https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/section-705-dirges-and-other-tuneless-tunes en 2005-2012 shakespearesmonekys@gmail.com 42.65593 -71.33391 Tue, 09 Jun 2026 13:18:59 GMT yacs http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss 70 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11108-long-night-blues https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11108-long-night-blues i was sippin' gin when Mel walked in and strummed along a beer i had two more (both tall) before he asked if i could hear the heartache at the Worthen loneliness at Brew'd i shook my head, and simply said i don't hear nuthin' dude Market street's all quiet, middle street's all dark Kerouac still sleeping on the bench right in his park and sure I'm mostly broken and sure I'm mostly dead but I'm here in lowell and halfway whole two cold beers and a too warm bed ahhh, just for fun i bought him one but Mel couldn't let it go i shook my head, then i said "man, you know i just dont' know I'm a god damned poet, I don't know a thing" i paid my tab, i got a cab i still hear him sing Market street's all quiet, middle street's all dark Kerouac still sleeping on the bench right in his park and sure I'm mostly broken and sure I'm mostly dead but I'm here in lowell and halfway whole two cold beers and a too warm bed i went back today, hopin' he would play and i could have a brew but Mel weren't there, life ain't fair what's a boy to do? that's when I heard heartache in the worthen Jen had come to sing about grandpa and her childhood how it meant everything Market street's all quiet, middle street's all dark Kerouac still sleeping on the bench right in his park and sure I'm mostly broken and sure I'm mostly dead but I'm here in lowell and halfway whole two cold beers and a too warm bed Hey there Jenny, sing it just for me Mel ain't here and i need it dear a song to lift me up I slapped away a barfly's day smashed a spidered glass i tried to laugh a little, but I'd had enough sure I'm mostly broken sure I'm mostly dead I'm here in lowell halfway whole two cold beer and a busted head 03/20/2009 ... more Stephan Anstey Dirges and other Tuneless Tunes Fri, 20 Mar 2009 20:34:10 GMT /section-705-dirges-and-other-tuneless-tunes#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/11108 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/11108 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A11108 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11087-best-friends https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11087-best-friends It is not enough that we were we and young and rough but tender Or that we climbed stones and fell over fell down fell long wee hills. Enough is the filth of pine tar on our we hands on our wee shirts on and on with youth and thin roads Enough to grace with graceful footsteps grace-full prayers and bruises on our graceless bruises on our graceless knees Oh, the cold spring, on Coldspring road we were we and young and tough enough tender still and rare, ready to cook we fell and fell down and fell along wee hills It is not enough that we were we, we are old and broke and broken too and roughly lost, but tender. The we that climbed stones wiped young hands on our wee shirts on and on with years the thick roads grow and we grow too wee to love grace and graceful, gracefully. bruises on our bruises on our wee knees become the rarest rare of memories. Oh, Coldspring Road, you are not enough though I am wee. Youth and grace and loss on and on, i fall, i fall down and fall along calamity. ... more Stephan Anstey Dirges and other Tuneless Tunes Thu, 19 Mar 2009 05:33:32 GMT /section-705-dirges-and-other-tuneless-tunes#comments 1 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/11087 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/11087 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A11087 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11085-equus https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11085-equus Though, part of me knows the Godhead the long perfect sinew under the smooth hair pulling the ground beneath him like a mad pulsating dream of sweat and despair. Lurching towards epiphany after the bit is removed after freedom. A part of me knows the Godhead though, and longs for the perfect sinew and muscle pulsating beneath me, like a mad dream of sweat and me pulled to the ground of smooth hair and the epiphany of freedom after the bit is installed. Lurching. Part of the Godhead is me though the long perfect sinew of my smooth soul pulling heaven beneath me like a mad dream of lurching despair and sweat. We are pulsating a bit in the epiphany of the freedom of our hair and body removed. ... more Stephan Anstey Dirges and other Tuneless Tunes Sun, 15 Mar 2009 03:58:04 GMT /section-705-dirges-and-other-tuneless-tunes#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/11085 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/11085 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A11085 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11076-motions-emotions-and-watching-the-wasting-of-time https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11076-motions-emotions-and-watching-the-wasting-of-time The small trains ride into small cities The small people wait on the small platforms goodbye, they say goodbye, they reply All aboard. When the large trains come from the large cities The large people wait on the large platforms hello, they say hello, they reply All aboard. When the trains large and small arrive When the people large and small arrive I watch them walk by I watch them be strangers In a strange city. Later, late at night, when it is very cold  When the large trains turn on their lights goodnight, i think goodnight the strangers sleep The small trains ride into large strange cities The large strange people wait on the small platforms The large trains ride into small strange cities The small strange people wait on the large platforms they say, hello they say, goodbye I watch them all all aboard. I don't reply. ... more Stephan Anstey Dirges and other Tuneless Tunes Tue, 10 Mar 2009 20:55:36 GMT /section-705-dirges-and-other-tuneless-tunes#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/11076 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/11076 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A11076 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11075-sound-track-for-a-romantic-sap https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11075-sound-track-for-a-romantic-sap life is short and so are we,  the night is long but can't you see,  everything will be okay  if you can just turn to me and say...  Love....Love and silly things  and love... and Love and all the joy it brings  and Love.... that's all i want to say to you.... Life is long and so so hard the day's are short for this lonely bard but everything will be okay if we can look at we and say... Love....Love and silly things  and love... and Love and all the joy it brings  and Love.... that's all i want to say to you.... Life is weird and so that's that the moon so skinny, the sun's so fat but everything's okay look at me my darling when I say... Love....Love and silly things  and love... and Love and all the joy it brings  and Love.... that's all i want to say to you.... i want to say I love you baby do you love me too  Love....Love and silly things  and love... and Love and all the joy it brings  and Love.... that's all i want to say to you.... i love you baby, and this love is true ... more Stephan Anstey Dirges and other Tuneless Tunes Tue, 10 Mar 2009 19:58:16 GMT /section-705-dirges-and-other-tuneless-tunes#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/11075 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/11075 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A11075 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11072-the-silly-poem-for-leo-about-rape-abuse-and-death. https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11072-the-silly-poem-for-leo-about-rape-abuse-and-death. Leo told me to write a silly little poem about rape, abuse, and (of course) death something light and airy, that recounts the cracking of soul and bone celebrates the lost and the meek,  tastefully.  I smiled, because Leo is exactly the kind of kind man that one would never expect to write an angry poem about the darkness. Sure, I told him. Then my brain exploded neatly in the sink. The rattling of shards of skull was delicate, blood swirling like a carousel around the aluminum drain, and Leo sighed. The celebration over tastefully. I smiled, because I am almost that kind of kind corpse that anyone would ever expect to rot happily like a poem about the darkness. Leo told me how he is duality encumbered  with flesh. raped by the demons of a hard life abused and disabused by every fetid notion until a joyful death can save him from all of this like a latex dildo saves a virgin  tastefully. I smiled, because I love the kind of marmalade appeal of the kind of macabre joke so unexpected tender sweet and bitterly delivered. Sure, he told me, then he let my body collapse neatly on the floor. The potoatoey thud of flesh was benediction. Leo's demons flew away away into the murk of my dead pan release. Around us the mindless funk of nearly-dead gathered tastefully. I smiled, because I love the kind of story  of the kind of girl who picks exactly the home for the apparently slowly dying parent. Leo told me my poem wasn't silly enough  or about rape enough or about abuse enough or death. But he liked the way my soul cracked like knuckles and my bones where hidden in the eyeless potatoes of my flesh. And i wrote in the dildo tastefully. I smiled, because rigor mortis is the kind of kindness so intrinsic to my brand of corpse apparently tender and sweet, but really an angry poem. ... more Stephan Anstey Dirges and other Tuneless Tunes Tue, 10 Mar 2009 19:37:38 GMT /section-705-dirges-and-other-tuneless-tunes#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/11072 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/11072 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A11072 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11070-advice-to-a-skinny-dipper https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11070-advice-to-a-skinny-dipper We all have our demons, and we all have our hopes,  we all hang alone, our necks wrapped in ropes. We all find the ways  deep into graves and nothing behaves  clean so there's soap.  We all know the jots and we all see the tittles  and we all dream something wrong just a bit'll We all have our demons, and all have our death we all stand together as we suck our last breath We all lose our ways high into heaven and nothing behaves dear, please not yet We all know the notes and wall see the words and we all sleep alone just so we are heard We all have our demons, and we all have our hands We all pray together, but we don't understand We all find the ways besides our cold graves and nothing behaves clean like we planned. We all know the colors and we all hear the songs and we all dream of nothing, because we're all wrong. ... more Stephan Anstey Dirges and other Tuneless Tunes Tue, 10 Mar 2009 19:25:11 GMT /section-705-dirges-and-other-tuneless-tunes#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/11070 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/11070 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A11070 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11066-a-muse-in-the-night-see-em https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11066-a-muse-in-the-night-see-em From high atop the rickety chairs the delicate shadows of a broom and of Barbara chasing a mouse around the table. The sound of almost breaking and a blur of eyes whirring around the exits. Displays, signs pointing, crazed light, and a scream. The hard hopeless dash of sin and skin across hardwood fur, tail, get out get out and then the hole truth of it all, in the moiling black around the moon.  She shatters a fragile sigh like lightbulb pop a spectacle a shimmer a seething flying hope for the stars and the discounted admission to certain knowledge Barbara, Barbara, breathe your soul is saved  your heart beats the mouse in the house is gone. Free at last Free at last Free at alst. ... more Stephan Anstey Dirges and other Tuneless Tunes Tue, 10 Mar 2009 19:15:27 GMT /section-705-dirges-and-other-tuneless-tunes#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/11066 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/11066 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A11066 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11011-a-new-poem-entitled https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11011-a-new-poem-entitled I revise my lips over and over edit them until they are my very own. Thin unworthy lips that graze on yours until there is blood or spit and wine the soft flesh lingers like old Jack Daniels in a square bottle or a fat husky throaty laugh stolen from your dad. At last when they are the lips that could possibly tell my story they are entitled to verse. A feeling twists around my teeth chink against the glass. The swig slugs my uvula rattles around my teeth chink against the glass. Again. You smile. Your eyes trace my shadow on the floor. Rough draft from beneath the door becomes a final copy. We both turn it in. Our lips, unworthy, yet entwined. ... more Stephan Anstey Dirges and other Tuneless Tunes Wed, 25 Feb 2009 21:05:54 GMT /section-705-dirges-and-other-tuneless-tunes#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/11011 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/11011 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A11011 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10889-breakdown https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10889-breakdown i was half way to pittsburgh when the sun came crashing down when all my dreams were tired and no way could be found to steal the music from the darkness to steal a yawn from my lips so i hunkered into nowhere let the evening take her grip and i was half way to pittsburgh when the moon came leaping out when all my heart was tired and the coyotes began to shout they shouted their frustration they shouted their endless grief so i hunkered into no where lost myself in a falling leaf so i was half way to pittsburgh when the clouds stole all the stars when both my feet were tired and i heard the passing cars i counted every engine roaring i counted the silence too then i hunkered into no where because there's nothing left to do when you're half way to pittsburgh when the sun is crashing down when the silvered moon looks tired and you don't know the town you can cry some tears of rage you can yawn away the night a hundred engines passing by and the evening isn't right half way to pittsburgh and all the way to hell you don't have to ask me you know i'm doing well half way to pittsburgh and there's no one here to tell ... more Stephan Anstey Dirges and other Tuneless Tunes Thu, 29 Jan 2009 18:02:27 GMT /section-705-dirges-and-other-tuneless-tunes#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10889 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10889 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10889 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10885-apoplexy https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10885-apoplexy The Brie melts politely on the motley china waiting for a mote of tea in a wanton Jersey diner to dust the waspish tongue of some thirsty headed fool like a pro conning the anti-skeptic about the measure of a hue. Later, the green is red and read aloud to the child in an early evening bout of shouted joy and wild dreams of schnicks and tics and bold faced lying down pillows - this embarrassment begins the cheesy frown. Do you stand under the truth or understand the weeping blind of color - addled proof there can be no speaking of flibbertigibbety youth vanquished gently seeking adulthood in sweet vermouth? The magnificent near-holy swish of warm'd butter on warmer bread leaping gingerly over fish a symbol of our luxurious dead reminds the denizens of trenton that politics is endless food and nothing real will put a dent in the muttered gauze of a bit too rude Now, the words are read and red paint on the statue said, "Die die.. please" on the head the whispered narcoleptic spew of a sleeping mind untouched by the reasoned shloop of despair graffitti crafted not too much but still with pronto-fleeing care Do you understand the weight of standing under shizzle'd rage color blind baptized disgrace godless ignorance in a bar-less cage captured in words like love belief in dyspeptic notions too filthy for a piss-white glove in the warmth of an urine-(err)atic ocean Did you forget the brie Melting sweetly for you and me? The way the plates left us be the taste of what and hmm and tea the magic screech of apoplexy? Did you dearest, forget about me? ... more Stephan Anstey Dirges and other Tuneless Tunes Thu, 29 Jan 2009 17:58:40 GMT /section-705-dirges-and-other-tuneless-tunes#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10885 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10885 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10885