Frank Milautzcki

Freude an den Texten AUFPASS! Hundert Deubel Hohlgass- wächter, oh aufpass!, oh oh nächtens!, schlurften wärts Wald lichterdings. Wochum wochum kein Gekutsche, genimm dich Dieb die Stadt auch vor. Aufpass!, lichts Balkonin horch … schlafnit, knirsch und knack er ast ––––– krrrrrrrrk ––––– Finster aussem raus komm Schatten, mondmit Licht geht Gaunerbrut! Arm, all Arm,… Frank Milautzcki weiterlesen

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Kategorisiert in Lit-Mag #24 Verschlagwortet mit

Stephen Oliver

Occupations 1. Such forests strewn over Poland! wintry sticks. And snow. These things I have not seen. The indigene tells of this; those blackened things caught between – like birch trunks, heavy coated soldiers over drift – deepening loss. 2. Every night it is the same, greenly spun in the iced-cube light of skyscrapers, the… Stephen Oliver weiterlesen

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B. R. Dionysius

Universal Andalusia xxxxxxxi. A holy trinity of love Both poetry and living illustrate: Each season brings its own peculiar fruits, a time to act, a time to contemplate. Nissim Ezekial (i) Sabtabi express Cowpats racked up; cheap manufactured landmines detonate in the faces of the low cast; history’s consensual disfigurement of the poor. A world… B. R. Dionysius weiterlesen

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Yvette Walker

Dinner Companion Poems Home Your resemblance to Odysseus Becomes horrible and horrible. You acquire the sea length beard And the ship bones, the old dog And the promise of a bent bow. I haven’t bothered with tapestries For months now. I have no words To say to you. I write you like A lyric, like… Yvette Walker weiterlesen

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John Kidd

Living in Proximity to the Tasman Bridge 1. From a window. Colourlessly, ghosts of cars, trucks, buses, relentlessly, into and out of the sight-line, cross the bridge. Silent puffs of cloud, discreet molecules, almost real. They are cloud, they come from cloud, go into cloud, elevated. Beneath them is the grey insipid sky of the… John Kidd weiterlesen

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Patrick McCauley

Three poems 1. In the middle of red light Amsterdam Flashing knives, bicycling Amsterdam Rain dripping, crowd pissing Herring roll Amsterdam. In the graffittisteegs Of old dutch shoe Amsterdam. In the gracelace of sexy Beautiful full liped Amsterdam. In Van Gogh one eared explosions Amsterdam. In sunflower sanity Amsterdam. In the silk blonde narrow streets… Patrick McCauley weiterlesen

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Maree Jaeger

Some Poems Little Pulses (for Chris) The slow eclipse of evening gives itself over in surrender. As we walk, the trees have never looked taller or whiter, or more fragile or so strong. The kiss of moss, warm and earthy between lips entwining the web and wood in us. Above; spaces, air pockets for emotions… Maree Jaeger weiterlesen

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Album Williams

CREMATION ANNOYS THE GRAVE DIGGER They broke each finger one by one and never did he complain. Just went about his business nearly fifty graves a year he dug for the shire’s rich and poor. Stood back (sniggering) as a corpse went into his hold. Depending on the person he’d spit n’ sometimes piss upon… Album Williams weiterlesen

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Walter Hoelbling

Verse difficult words times are when words seem to have lost their power to be spoken they stubbornly refuse to form on the same lips from which they flowed only a heartbeat ago difficult words they have become I love you forgive me I love you   mobile home it travels without trucks builds quickly… Walter Hoelbling weiterlesen

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