asphodelmadness.blogspot.com
Asphodel Madness: January 2010
http://asphodelmadness.blogspot.com/2010_01_01_archive.html
Sunday, January 31, 2010. Hear the clank of feet on wood planks. Hear my steps like the bad seed clapping her shoes. God’s lightning never comes. But the ship’s whistle does. And parts us from the pier. Even crossed arms can not defeat wet cold. Salt lies stiff in hair,. Takes in my clammy hands. Like a lover I never could keep. I tremble, not from cold. Nor from this ship which caught a whale’s rumble-. It was the anxiety of lost childhood. Speaking clear in my ear. Heavenly tones ringing the call.
asphodelmadness.blogspot.com
Asphodel Madness: July 2010
http://asphodelmadness.blogspot.com/2010_07_01_archive.html
Thursday, July 29, 2010. When your eyes were turned away. When your black eyes were turned away. And looking far off. Is when you lost me,. In the thick darkness. And the wild sounds. Lost in the places of fires. And slow trains and imaginary things. Left by indistinguishable stings. When your eyes were lost. And turned blankly away. Dancing, ripped apart, dancing in margins. On the edge of the blade. And fire spitters…. The no sorrow, no regrets, never turning back maniacs. When you turned your eyes away.
asphodelmadness.blogspot.com
Asphodel Madness: Artist's Son
http://asphodelmadness.blogspot.com/2010/08/artists-son.html
Sunday, August 29, 2010. The artists are dandelions:. There are so many of them. God called my mother. And told her she was. Better than all the other. Till they chopped off her head,. And she drank it up,. Became a member of society:. But not before she born me. And I'm still a seed. Flipping in the breeze. Past the wanted flowers,. One of the few artists. Who's still got a head. But the mower is always. And who knows where. This wind will carry me? We are all destined to be. Thank god I’m a poet.
asphodelmadness.blogspot.com
Asphodel Madness: SEPTEMBER 24, 2001
http://asphodelmadness.blogspot.com/2010/09/september-24-2001.html
Wednesday, September 1, 2010. SEPTEMBER 24, 2001. On the steps, from. Metro, I’m sniffing. Nail polish remover,. Dreamed I gave a. Couldn’t find any. When I open my. Mouth, I spit a. Lyn's website: http:/ www.lynlifshin.com/books.htm. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). The Writer Buries Himself in The Mud Until The Nex. SEPTEMBER 24, 2001. Go to Asphodel Madness 2.0. Http:/ opiumpoetry.blogspot.com/. Arlen J. Levy. Charles C Brooks III. Eric J. Brinovec. Joseph M. Gant. Michael A. Flanagan.
asphodelmadness.blogspot.com
Asphodel Madness: September 2010
http://asphodelmadness.blogspot.com/2010_09_01_archive.html
Monday, September 6, 2010. Http:/ asphodelmadness.wordpress.com/. Saturday, September 4, 2010. The Writer Buries Himself in The Mud Until The Next Rainy Season. Where, once again,. Thursday, September 2, 2010. After taking his sweet time. Nibbling at his last meal. He smoked a cigarette. Despite quitting years ago. And he listened absently. As the preacher tried hard. To console him with passages. From the Bible he never read. And telling Bad Chester Ryan. If you believe you'll be saved. Dreamed I gave a.
asphodelmadness.blogspot.com
Asphodel Madness: February 2010
http://asphodelmadness.blogspot.com/2010_02_01_archive.html
Sunday, February 28, 2010. The Heart as a Geometric Shape. Since what pushes us out into the world. Can’t pull us back in, I’m envious. Of how our daughter is drawn to you. Einstein said, “gravity is the result of. The curvature of space-time geometry.”. He also said, “gravity can not be responsible. For people falling in love.”. For months post surgery, when I couldn’t lift her,. You placed her in my arms after she fell asleep,. So I could marvel over the world we created. Unless something goes wrong.
asphodelmadness.blogspot.com
Asphodel Madness: HAREM
http://asphodelmadness.blogspot.com/2010/08/harem.html
Friday, August 27, 2010. Her ummmmmm, my third wife, sixty-four,. Talking full time about "Everyone in my. Family died in their sixties," although. A face-lift 5 years ago) she looks fortyish,. E-mails every day from wife-possibles from. Way back, sending me pictures of grandkids. For me that's what counts, genetic continuation). Photos of themselves, poems, publishing questions,. When can I come out to Carpinteria to visit, five. Months since Joey died (shark), "Let's meet in. Thank god I’m a poet.
asphodelmadness.blogspot.com
Asphodel Madness: May 2010
http://asphodelmadness.blogspot.com/2010_05_01_archive.html
Monday, May 31, 2010. There is no prison bar. So strong as what your. Father taught you,. Told you, ingrained. In your mind. There is no. Than what your mother. Misled you to believe. And beat into your heart. The land is an evil barren. Prison you can only work,. Work and work in for nothing. There is no crime, no punished. With such suffering as this. But somewhere, hidden in. Safe hold of the soul. There is a key that unlocks. This latitude of lies and. Lets you escape to the. World is waiting for your.
asphodelmadness.blogspot.com
Asphodel Madness: December 2009
http://asphodelmadness.blogspot.com/2009_12_01_archive.html
Wednesday, December 30, 2009. HE SAID IN THE HOSPITAL IT. Isn’t much like. On rock n roll real. Loud to bug some dudes. Who just like Aida,. We were glad to be. Coming out of the jungle,. Not in body bags. First day out with my. New leg and I think I’m. Hot stuff, don’t know it’s. Thing and I twist on. A bar stool and my. Leg spits and flings. Itself out, yanks a. Man’s arm and throws it. Across the floor. He. Gave me a funny look. Then once one foot. I looked to be. Forward at the same. Time and a kid.
asphodelmadness.blogspot.com
Asphodel Madness: March 2010
http://asphodelmadness.blogspot.com/2010_03_01_archive.html
Friday, March 26, 2010. By Justin Wade Thompson. Her tits hanging out. Boy scout blue and. No respect for her. Some fag boys were singing. I went home and cried. Warm beer and a stain. On my pants the next day. To keep the patrons staring. In the grocery store. Where i ate cactus. And bananas with my rice. Last time my dad sat across from. Me screaming about Texas politics. And the end of the world. I don't know anymore. Lies parade the news and magazine stands,. The wine bottles, the cat pills,. Couldn&...