https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/section-606-the-personal-space-of-leanne For the pursuit of genius, and for genius to think of ways to escape. en 2005-2012 shakespearesmonekys@gmail.com 42.65593 -71.33391 Tue, 09 Jun 2026 19:41:33 GMT yacs http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss 70 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12594-the-romantics https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12594-the-romantics     In spite of all the pretty words that make your knees go weak, And similes about your eyes and oceans, stars or jewels, Remember, as that ruby blush brings blossoms to your cheek, The poet doesn’t mean those things, my love, they’re only tools. The poet is a sneaky sort who serenades the page, To shape its pale virginity into his lover’s form, And once begun, his pen is not about to disengage From frenzied strokes of passion in his literary storm. This flaccid nerd by words becomes your troubadourish knight, His girth recedes, his hair grows thick, he’s dash and derring-do, And you, his gentle sonnet queen, have spurred his soul to write Of what he’d do if only he weren’t terrified of you. In fairyland built high upon the strata of cliché The poet spins his lyric lies to you, his chosen lay. ... more Leanne Hanson A Slap on the Wrist Wed, 20 Oct 2010 06:27:25 GMT /section-659-a-slap-on-the-wrist#comments 3 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/12594 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/12594 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A12594 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12593-volley-d-and-thunder-d https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12593-volley-d-and-thunder-d “Never trust a poet.”  That’s what Daddy said to me, when I was knock-kneed in the factory and knocked up on the floor while the whiff of something more drowned in Brut and milky tea.   Lord Tennyson was late again and half a league behind me so he missed the mouth of hell I described so bloody well after waiting in the mill for him to find me ... more Leanne Hanson Awaiting Sentence Tue, 12 Oct 2010 06:24:35 GMT /section-657-awaiting-sentence#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/12593 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/12593 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A12593 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12592-logos https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12592-logos In this new mythology, grace is bound here in god’s pocketbook pasture like the unknown soldier sinks into stone.  There are echoes that have forgotten the first shout, but bounce across entropy in ever-diminishing consequence.  And there is flesh. It oozes across the skeleton with vile consumption, swallowing souls and storing them belly-ward to await the acid of time.  They settle with the stones of cherries long since picked, made smooth by abrasive virtue.  Carbon-anchored, it is their dream to suffocate. Men grey to oblivion while their tongues taste black and white.  Housed under stone, words are sentenced and execute themselves.  In the cloth of theatre, the puppets are oblivious to strings and dance on… dance on… There are no curtains here, only blinds. ... more Leanne Hanson Awaiting Sentence Tue, 12 Oct 2010 06:23:25 GMT /section-657-awaiting-sentence#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/12592 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/12592 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A12592 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12591-got-it-good https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12591-got-it-good   When spring came that year, we joined hands in a ring-a-rosy dervish;  I giggling, you wondering how. I only notice now, from your kodak blush, that the push of the crowd made you cower as you thrust your pigtailed prettiness before you like Maccabee’s shield.   We played pat-a-cake in the summer, cross-legged on concrete like beggars. You envied me my knees free of daubings of mercurochrome, ... more Leanne Hanson Awaiting Sentence Tue, 12 Oct 2010 06:22:03 GMT /section-657-awaiting-sentence#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/12591 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/12591 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A12591 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12590-the-trials-of-post-modernity-when-you-re-really-not-that-interested https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12590-the-trials-of-post-modernity-when-you-re-really-not-that-interested I tried to deconstruct a bloody sonnet to get da dum da dum out of my head I made a sandwich, put some pickles on it and listened to a bit of Grateful Dead…   I don’t think I will meet the ultimatum to break it down or quit this forum abuse I’ll take these female endings, alternate ‘em with plain old male and see what they produce.   Well look, it seems this sonnet’s half a ballad ... more Leanne Hanson A Slap on the Wrist Tue, 12 Oct 2010 06:20:45 GMT /section-659-a-slap-on-the-wrist#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/12590 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/12590 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A12590 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12589-sex-stain https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12589-sex-stain No funk in poetry these days, no rhyme to spare the time, to shape the world in form or free, just prose, to watch as we die.  Verse, if I could break your back and with these words rebuild that stanza lone, you’d feel your feet were dancing to some dark uncommon beat I met a poet once, said he was beat and smoky folk wrapped round him for his rhyme but gasoline encased his naked feet and lunch exploded softly on his form of non-conformist storage of the words that scattered like the scriptures INRI verse ... more Leanne Hanson A Slap on the Wrist Tue, 12 Oct 2010 06:19:15 GMT /section-659-a-slap-on-the-wrist#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/12589 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/12589 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A12589 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10384-it-s-good-and-dead-long-live-zombie-poetry. https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10384-it-s-good-and-dead-long-live-zombie-poetry. Is poetry dead?  Who cares?  How many times have we had this discussion?  No, it's not dead, you cry.  There's more poetry being written now than there ever was.  Look around you.  The internet is a marvel of communication.  Poets, poets everywhere and something about slimy things. Blah.  Poetry didn't go through an amazing resurgence with the coming of the internet; what surged was people's ability to get in other people's faces without ever having to properly commit to any kind of relationship.  This nice safe little interface created a haven for the imagination, but there was a problem: imaginations just aren't what they used to be.  As a consequence of two or three generations of being told precisely what to think, how to act, who to vote for and so forth etc ad infinitum, "creativity" has come to mean "see what else is around that you like and think you can manage, then copy it".  The personal diary became the public blog, and poetry in the key of I was soon de rigueur.  ... more Leanne Hanson Having a moan Tue, 08 Dec 2009 22:43:21 GMT /section-661-having-a-moan#comments 24 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10384 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10384 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10384 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11967-to-criticise https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11967-to-criticise No censure or unneeded praise comes from a master, only roads gone upwards.  A true guide will raise, by coaxing or at times with goads, the seeker to an equal plain if such exists.  To crush does naught but shrink the pool; small fish may gain and yet that kind is always caught. A poem only ends when we decide to close our eyes; no page holds everything there ought to be if closed off minds will not engage. Leanne Hanson Having a moan Sat, 28 Nov 2009 01:03:37 GMT /section-661-having-a-moan#comments 15 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/11967 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/11967 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A11967 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10306-faunication https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10306-faunication Sideways look, I don't believe, she says, you know -- What's your favourite by Rimbaud? Ah, say I, the best of him was his full stop.  I cannot quote his pages, though I've read them all.  I don't speak French, you understand, but he -- debauched, a dreadful man -- he spoke my tongue, and spoke it well. He's gone to Hell, she says, and I -- well, I just sigh.  It's Hell he left.  Full stop, he wrote.  (Enough of this, this pleasure dome, I'm done with poems.) How brave he was -- depraved and vile -- while I just sit and dread the hour when cowardice alone will force my own full stop.  Sideways look, Well, I can quote each word he wrote. I pity her.  She knows the lines but never learned to join the dots. ... more Leanne Hanson Up For Parole Fri, 27 Nov 2009 00:08:02 GMT /section-656-up-for-parole#comments 1 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10306 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10306 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10306 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11965-ngalyod-refracted https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11965-ngalyod-refracted Long time past and yesterday the sparrows brushed the sky away with browning wings.  The summer arch collapsed upon the bloody soil, and old ones dug in deep. The billabong has rippled long beneath your limbs, red father. You were young and slender when they walked hide-sheltered feet deaf across her back. I am new, old one and white as ghost gum dreaming. Sorry-specked and sunburnt, one foot ochre yearning, one far cloud seeking. Long time come, you thunder to me and rain-washed parrots build you with their wings. Blood, soil, summer sleep and rainbows: Dream us one. ... more Leanne Hanson Awaiting Sentence Thu, 26 Nov 2009 21:53:33 GMT /section-657-awaiting-sentence#comments 15 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/11965 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/11965 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A11965 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10307-perchance-to-dream https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10307-perchance-to-dream Aye, there’s the rub, says me, you see ‘Cos what I write is poetry Not truisms and tricky bits For folks to quote with borrowed wits So they might feel their stature’s grown Without an effort of their own. A poet lives his life alone A penitent who must atone For sins of thought and social gaffes Of telling riffs they’re really raffs Defiling thrones, defacing coins And planting feet in lofty groins. No flowered verse on greeting card Will pass this pen; no arse of lard Shall rule me. Not the poppest vox Will talk me into such a box Aye, there’s the rub, ‘tis poetry That’s destined me to poverty. ... more Leanne Hanson A Slap on the Wrist Thu, 13 Aug 2009 22:38:43 GMT /section-659-a-slap-on-the-wrist#comments 5 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10307 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10307 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10307 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9350-helen https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9350-helen Revised 23/08/08 Leanne Up For Parole Sat, 11 Jul 2009 07:17:04 GMT /section-656-up-for-parole#comments 11 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/9350 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/9350 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A9350 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10960-the-love-song-of-burke-and-wills https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10960-the-love-song-of-burke-and-wills I suspect you'll need to google Burke & Wills Leanne Hanson Awaiting Sentence Mon, 11 May 2009 05:39:18 GMT /section-657-awaiting-sentence#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10960 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10960 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10960 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9986-an-da-shealladh https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9986-an-da-shealladh "Second sight" -- variations on a theme, I suppose. Might even come close to getting it right one day Leanne Awaiting Sentence Sun, 18 Jan 2009 20:06:44 GMT /section-657-awaiting-sentence#comments 10 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/9986 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/9986 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A9986 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9975-activism https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9975-activism So tell me vegetarians, please answer this post haste: what would we do with all the cows that we should cease to eat? With hooves that crush and teeth that rend to turn the grass to waste, what is their place upon this earth if not to give us meat? Where would we loose those cattle? On the fragile veldts and plains? Farewell, o noble elephant, we've no room for you now, you've lost to methane farters in the PETA pap campaigns, I doubt we'll see their soybean pastures given to a cow. I've never heard an answer and I doubt I ever will -- the air around the pulpit seems to stifle new ideas. We meat eaters are oft accused of fondness for the kill, and I can think of one I'd greet with loud resounding cheers. ... more Leanne Serial Offenders Fri, 16 Jan 2009 20:56:46 GMT /section-658-serial-offenders#comments 5 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/9975 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/9975 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A9975 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10366-the-coming-of-the-magi https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10366-the-coming-of-the-magi Oh mother, where's your little girl now? Golden brown beneath an incandescent sun, shiver swung from electric noose as God laughs like the terrier next door, ratcatcher yelps and hard biscuit yawns. Christmas carries sex upon its breath, sackfuls of naughty whisper ice is nicest when it's free.  Note the catch and kiss of missed and may be shush, there's good, let's spoon it up. Mother waits with empty boxes every year, Pandora's treasure passing by on ragged wings -- those she wore that day when promise wandered westward, folio in hand.  Now the tree stands bare, shedding needles on the floor. Can you hear the bells?  All is well. Celebrate.  The world rejoices in glorious rebuke. What is one star, when a galaxy is alight? ... more Leanne Hanson Awaiting Sentence Tue, 16 Dec 2008 03:13:27 GMT /section-657-awaiting-sentence#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10366 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10366 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10366 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10352-silent-night https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10352-silent-night A baby lies in stable bed, no halo shining round its head; no stockman ushers in his sheep to bleat a newborn god to sleep. But if by chance they did -- what then? Why start this bloody mess again? It's not a poet's fusty phlegm that slouches near to Bethlehem, but man alone.  Not birth but bombs the something which the wrong way comes. No turkey yields cremated meat Upon these plates, no merry feet shall measure gaily down this hall while in the meadow, snowflakes fall. No gifts are strewn beneath the tree -- no tree at all, just cold debris and death.  Who brought that fellow here to desecrate this time of cheer? The wind, a wail, the baby's last and Christmas spirit slithers past.   ... more Leanne Hanson Awaiting Sentence Thu, 11 Dec 2008 03:09:34 GMT /section-657-awaiting-sentence#comments 5 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10352 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10352 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10352 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10308-the-perfect-sonnet https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10308-the-perfect-sonnet Thy blessed tongue, it trippeth o’er the phrase that speaks too plain its mind in forward word, and doth not twist in convoluted ways about non sequiturs, a mocking bird. Thine artist’s heart, it sings old songs of love; you utter speech not heard since Shakespeare’s day, and here, you know no better fit than dove, and thank the stars that poets still say gay. O! Love enduring, why should you be changed? Why taint your breast with vulgar words and new? Why sentence make one normally arranged when thou must elder apricots on blue? I prithee, let me rest within your tree and dream of simple poets, just like me. ... more Leanne Hanson A Slap on the Wrist Mon, 01 Dec 2008 09:08:06 GMT /section-659-a-slap-on-the-wrist#comments 6 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10308 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10308 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10308 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10305-to-wilde https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10305-to-wilde They piss on your grave, these anti-aesthetes, for whom beauty is found in glorifying the harsh and jar jangling angled wastelands, small i overdone, like dodo eggs in Alighierian imaginings. You would pat their heads, poor pretentious fools, and send them back to school to learn that a nymph is not simply a stroke of a pen, but a well – she will tell a thousand dreams to Scheherezade, whom they would suffocate. In Pere Lachaise, you are languid, as Morrison gathers frogs to his bosom, lizards having long since shed their skin, singing scales against Chopin’s Polonaise or Amazing Grace with equal facility, in disregard for the breathless. You keep fine company, but your bones are not your own, they have long gone – rejecting the prosaic earth, they calcified the air, where sunlight hid in waterfalls of thought and Thalia sought to flambé sombre soldiers in their own affected arts. In the corner of a promise you stow your reflection; shadows spring fully suckled to virgin pages. Shattered tablets lie forbidding in closed chambers, beneath the sleeping Endymion; bring us Arcady, where beauty is untrodden. Bring us clowns, whose hearts may not be broken. ... more Leanne Hanson Up For Parole Wed, 26 Nov 2008 02:23:57 GMT /section-656-up-for-parole#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10305 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10305 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10305 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10304-automontage https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10304-automontage Somewhere under yesterday your happiness was killing me; I heard Jimi Hendrix play Beethoven’s second symphony on mandolin with Morrissey, whose aria was heavenly. Someone threw a dead bouquet, a colander of Beaujolais; the trappings of the bourgeoisie all locked up with a minor key. Left of yellow disarray, you wandered into Rick’s café and ordered from the cold buffet, then washed your feet in Sencha tea, your Buddha belly on display in corpulent discourtesy. Folded into leased esprit, I was decreased and stole away; and fallen into liberty, I made it over yesterday. Leanne Hanson Up For Parole Wed, 26 Nov 2008 02:22:48 GMT /section-656-up-for-parole#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10304 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10304 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10304