Punk is dead

let’s play a game.  what came

first, the chicken

or the egg?  what came first,

punk or the elitist assholes

who listen to only punk?  

 

listen:  punk is dead and punk

was the end of garage band rock and

punk turned poetry to fashion

trend and punk is what they

call any kid who steps

out of line and punk

 

redrew the lines between

music and noise and

 

punk

is

dead

 

dead like our

ancestors dead like

the animal that laid the egg the

chicken was in and punk

died when it became a clique

that was exclusive to join and

 

punk

didn’t

die

 

it evolved to avoid

assholes like you

Moonwatch

Moon keep watch on us tonight
May our words take endless fight
Eyes stay open
Mind stay sharp
Illuminate our page with spark

Hour 13

Half Wishing

I don’t even know when it started

This little half crush

Probably around the time we shared an interest

Something we keep hidden from others

Not because it is wrong

But because it is different

Sometimes I think you might sorta like me too

Then I tell myself that is silly

But still I wish a little a half for more

 

#9 Spider Inspired

Born with a natural ability to turn an ordinary day into a sticky situation.

Making no apologies for simply doing a job, feeding her family, making a living in the family business.

A taste for finer things exceeded only by a drive to go after what she wanted.

Never loved, rarely respected, never hearing praise for her fine meticulous labor.

Often it seemed her work was ignored by others or simply brushed away with a dismissive hand.

Yet she endured and each time she began anew, she anticipated that her next project would be even greater.

 

A possibility

 

Gravity maximization closely held secret on the  horizon

Materialization on full blasting and edging out for all portions

Dawning in the heralds of days where it is just mere normality

Echoing in deep conscious efforts dealing in its effectors

Knitting the causality in every possibility and going beyond

Tightly or loosely woven in the order of things

Closely realizing in lives of all things on anything

Everything affected on every opportunity

Connectivity dawning in every likelihood

A spatial scenario where all things realizing held tightly

Putting things together in  ways of nature’s playground

 

 

 

 

© Roy Mark Azanza Corrales 06082017  9:05   AM PST

 

 

 

 

 

 

Heart and Soul

She lived alone

The loneliness stayed

Surrounded by many everyday

In a heart and soul made

a California Girl

Too country for this world

Longing for the right love in the right place and time

Inside lies the darkness of Life displayed

The smile she stays

shown on her face each day

The heart hurt with pain

Shadows of a life in vain

A simple life she cries for

A front porch swing she longs for

An old school country girl

Drowning in this out of place of this world

Drove off to Tennessee today

Ears or Mouths or …?

7:04 PM Ears or Mouths or …?

Depends on who’s saying it he said

The same words, sentences, paragraphs can be spoken in multiple ways

Words have different weight with expression

Equal or stressed can create something that isn’t there or is

Tone of voice can be determined by the ear or the mouth

Depends on who’s hearing it she said

Poem 10

Secret lies that’s what he told me
some tarty moments he was very shady
trust he would open up to me one day
this he never did

Let the love flow no matter
where you go for my love
for you will never die
you have a piece of my heart
so use it wisely

Let me dream of you all weekend
why don’t you do the same
every moment away from you is like
a month or two.

All rights reserved copyrighted(c)2017 Roxann Harvey

When Tiny Died

When Tiny died, I saw,

even at the moment of death, the sores

on his skin trying like desperate soldiers

to heal themselves.

His lungs hissed out

for new air, even as life pressed away

in a fevered moment.

His wife Shirley

touched the empty bed, the sweat,

the small flowers of blood on the sheet,

then curled up on it, feeling

that final warmth,

his large body alive in her memory

as the morticians bagged him up.

J. Pratt-Walter, (c) 8/2017

 

Devotional

On my knees, on my knees

hell-bent begging,

silent pleas

through eyes on fire

in desperate need

to staunch the dam

about to break,

gavel the rabble

into place,

gag the dissenters,

divert rubberneckers,

hostage youngsters

& negotiate

in neck-twist-burns

with the forces behind

bed-time, plate,

scream through a body

about to break,

all sweatpalmplastic,

arm up, heart out,

blood fall ache,

fingers spread

to red and black

C30, C60, C90

stretched & back,

ready to record

Top of The Pops

no matter what

has reached the spot –

cum on, feel the noize!