Tuesday, October 31, 2017

Kerri Shying R # 347 -Fodder


someone rewrites my history  he comes
at night  he works by daylight   near
afar            changes race  religion  bumps off
those I love            reinstates them
bumble-headed             accidents             someone
takes my painful days   repacked
into a bale of shredded wheat              as fodder
grazing cows 
 say moo  say uncle
see me bang  hand   fast as a feather
in the fine grain of your nitrate            film
nothing catches life
but me                my motion
rock            papers                        scissor
cuts  again

Monday, October 30, 2017

Kristen de Kline's 'Bumming with Ziggy' translated into Chinese by Cui Yuwei

Bumming with Ziggy
Written in English by Kristen de Kline
Translated into Chinese by Cui Yuwei

I slept with her
again last night

we screamed as we came
lit up as we crashed down

we wrote poems every day
on brown paper bags

eulogies on UB40 forms
etched love letters into our flesh

we howled like Ginsberg

nobody   was   listening

we screamed even louder

again last night
I slept with her

we came as we screamed
it was just as good as the first time

when I woke up
my leather jacket was gone

the Drum tobacco pouch, emptied out
she'd even ripped off the $2 lighter







沒人 在 聽






Rob Schackne #508 - Burning (3)


In the aftermath
throb of an exoheart
all that remains in the air

behind me when she goes
a drowsy numbness
a beach at low tide

tears at the ebb side
where did the swing go
I wake dawn with seagulls
the wind has picked up
things gone missing

Kit Kelen #667 - Alcazar de Cordoba

Alcazar de Córdoba

the horse shit streets led here

in the gardens of a Sunday
come into walls for shade
slave made

blue of this vault re-fashioned each day
where kings make marble eyes at me

flowers are such care –
jasmine waft
and pines bent dreaming

I chase shade but the sun still has me
I'm all under a hat in among roses
and wilting as well

I am a slow trickle of tourist
by way of maidenhair in grottoes
come to Columbus begging

this new world sword glint, blood and gold
wasn't that great to get?

he doesn't know where he will go
but he spends his vision here

and everyone's Columbus now
all know as he surmised
though perhaps today the patience is lacking

some have thrown themselves into the picture

don't you know a king commanded this?
cats are a habit of place

all battlements above and arrow cross
where light's let

that whining sound
is Columbus begging

king and queen keep saying 'nup
India's the other way... any fool knows that'

come fish be quick
in your nowhere to swim
come pigeons dare to land

all we standing love a garden

chased out with a whistle by guards

it's the sound of water running
is best to heal the heart

Kristen de Kline #163 Bumming with Ziggy

I slept with her
again last night

we screamed as we came
lit up as we crashed down

we wrote poems every day
on brown paper bags

eulogies on UB40 forms
etched love letters into our flesh

we howled like Ginsberg

nobody   was   listening

we screamed even louder

again last night
I slept with her

we came as we screamed
it was just as good as the first time

when I woke up
my leather jacket was gone

the Drum tobacco pouch, emptied out
she'd even ripped off the $2 lighter

Kerri Shying R # 346 - two-time


where the fuck
were you
are you            have
you been              don’t tell me
my heart
can’t take             one more lie 

I swear I swear
you move away  yes I
still remember

that day the phone you said
you never had             slid down the
counterpane  between my legs              right
out of your grey work-pants pocket and
you             none the wiser   wet-mouthed             say
bye now                I found eight numbers
I did nothing
all afternoon

you never asked  I
            never gave it back

power failed
us               dancing 
bedclothes cup our warm
slack lies

Sunday, October 29, 2017

Kit Kelen #666 - devil of a poem & #666a - inhabit an uncertainty

devil of a poem

it's come to this

and I think I know what made me do it
and who

the trouble's how to stop

inhabit an uncertainty

take a look around

I might or not
I won't gainsay

ditch the map
let garden grow

consider the ways
give paws

just walk
and pave a road to hell

go to it
you have to laugh

it's not lost to be where you are

deep in the forest of wishes and wants
and will your number come up?

straw short?

inhabit an uncertainty

do we not, each of us, come from such?
let every miracle of here be so
we must let be what is
or not

there's all the could be would be too

just take a moment like this leads on

in bells lost count
we live the strange time past the clock
closer to seasons so

I always dream who I can be
middle of the journey

thing to another
let me address you as such

look up a clear night
and see so far
that was all before us

and look again
do you recognise?

this is the place where you were born
all changed, changed utterly now

Kerri Shying R # 345 - One time

One time

It’s time
to succumb
again            to that  knife edge
of pain             management and
forward motion              slender grey
as aliens               on the row
here on remand  we
the   waiting

take the knuckle-under
hard to heart      the sight of
ninja turtles                        guards
in full kit                         taking you out
counts me in

steadier than
the second hand
I used to see go

Rob Schackne #507 - Undertitled


Hands up everyone who likes their body!

There is only one woman and me
we get stared at must be how we look
my ass grows skinnier by the day
I dance I fall down I crawl
one side weaker than the other
scars I've long lost track of
sit around a fire telling the story

brain in jury spine in fury ooh you survived
feet are duck's the ears grow potatoes
my teeth like a rabbit nibbles a frog
my generative pendulum

has to stop frequently for a rest 
I forget to say I am almost ghost
boot hill rough deal flexitime shut down
a knuckle dusting heckle and jeckle thrill
stay out of my fucking way kind of body
she looks my way eyes are smiling

Saturday, October 28, 2017

Kerri Shying R # 344 - Undergrounded


the night the plane crashed
I thought
the dope fields 
could find no way
to search
all the meta data
arrows point

at me
trotting little horsie
bobbing knocking dinghy
you the boat

Mr Stallion don’t
let me trip you up
your super power
wisdom cocky shit

kaboom  as ever
someone else
not you

Kit Kelen #665 - a mission (Mezquita, Cordoba)

a mission
Mezquita, Córdoba

you go slow
to be in a place

my mission in Europe –
to give no more money to the Catholic Church
(not that they're less deserving than others
just that they have enough)

it's being told in German, in French
in English – the glories are told
of the artisans, their backs broken to this
we hardly here a whisper

look what these paupers own!
apart from wars and auto-da-fé
inquisitions all sorts, epochal pederasty

gaze upon the marble hardware!
the skulls and crossbones in the floor
here I am in a stolen mosque
reconquered don't you know
and it is true the Visigoths had pillaged together
a little church before

your decent barbarian knocks the thing down
for a comfortable little humpy – it's tribal
this is all of the story owned

I know about Sancta Sofia in Istanbul
two wrongs not making a right and so

as a child I got into trouble drawing a bunch of them
boiled in a pot when one of our teachers went off to Africa
I guess you'd call that racism
I thought it was good clean fun
(they were boiled up in a copper after all)

I could see the point of feeding the lions – cruel pagan that I was
it fills their hearts with anger still

burned at the stake, boiled in a pot
seems like quid pro quo

in the forest of columns
so many names are trodden
they paid and they were saved

for this dumb show of the devout
you see the itch of it in them

you won't get to sit in the rich bastards' seats

those in marble still live

and don't they glory in the story
as if no other trumpet told

but I love a prince of peace
and Jesus has to love me
it's in the job description

I just think his religion's been a little overdone

there is a surfeit of sunlight outside

you can read it as a wood indoors
and it looks as if a fire passed through
generations of worshippers time took for undergrowth
they're the ashes swept out

there will be closing time for us too

I'm just thinking this place would make an incredible pool hall

in Macao this would be more gaming rooms – with authentic atmosphere
(a wonder they haven't built it already)

I could have come for the free hour in the morning
but sometimes you have to pay
for a cool place to pace out day's middle

the church is always a winner

these pigeons to the outside clinging
they have a shot at the sun
unsure of the symbolic price 


Rob Schackne #506 - "Love was king" (2)

Love was king

the skies were blue
the wind was coming up
when I found me
beside the highway
and love was 
just a little heart
a thumb sticking out
talking to the birds

Friday, October 27, 2017

Kit Kelen #664 - the chosen, their rapture

the chosen, their rapture

general ekphrastic, Córdoba

these eyes up hungry for light
all gold in halo after

the arrow stuck
those put to the sword
or fallen on

those with their heads on plates
or visited with angels

who speak with the air
beatific in milky breasts (don't bite!)

those burned for witches
whose hearts glowed true

cherubs, seraphs

those great in quill
or nose in tome


the great ones with a church in hand
or better, a cathedral

those hailing each own revelation
those lifted as in flight

the one who's nailed up upside down

these now the skeletal remains
or even just a toenail left

these well lit

the priestly
and the ones at war

the swooners
all well wept

who dreamt the big dream
whom animals, as children, adore

the lamb
the fish
the dove

ones falling
and ones risen as up in a thermal

the heaven sent or lent

the one baptising with the linen hat
the one to take the plunge

the grey beard papa looking on
the cloud-through peering angels fog

so many with their faces half gone
all cracked with time

the bowed
the unbreasted

horse drawn
and rocket launched

hands prayer clenched

silent ones so much seen
so certain

who were forgiven
because they asked

so proud of their humility

what can this world be to them?
this moment is their glory

Kerri Shying R # 343 - paddlepop and melting

paddlepop and melting

fooze ball  on the roadside beckon
rubber hand-grips               hold me sweet

on all the murmured streets
of children            sighing shiver

seek    love’s swirled cornetto   down
by history    look the seashells

here Mum   see   my           
somersaults     cartwheels

rolling snake eyes  that’s a double
roll again   you never get

a chance like that     and
life is longer than the ribbons

on Dad’s Morris dancing hat
there are no more   spectacles

events have overtaken
everything like them

Rob Schackne #505 - "I slept with her" (1)

I slept with her
again last night
her head on 
my chest
dreaming of 
an old suitcase
at the side of the road
no one stopped
I meet Sophia Loren
in her tight levis
I meet Hitler again
calmly sleeping
it does no good
listening to the lies
I am restless
all those roads

Thursday, October 26, 2017

Kristen de Kline #162 Dancing & dreaming (aka Hotel California)

first we danced
mirrors on the ceiling

hearts on sleeves
then we dreamt

pink champagne on ice
closer to mine, your

body swayed as
we clinked glasses

teeth in my hands
we walked past

the end of the world
stepped over suitcases

abandoned down at Lawless
lay back in the Valiant

limbs, outstretched
on a tartan picnic rug

rumour has it
we fell asleep

dancing,   footsteps

the ground
falling out
from under
our feet

rumour has it
we dreamt
in black and white
nodded off
to white noise
slept for
a thousand years

Kit Kelen #663 - Cordoba 25.X.17


you may yet come to turn
through these eyes in the book
of course there's the chance no one will read

I'm the eyes wide
I love to find where wandering brings
keep loose – a pleasure not knowing

better still – be lost
then let the map appear at my feet
because I merely nosed a way
I found a way to read

there are no monuments here know me
but mutts poke out on balconies
sniff streets
so many dogs have this view of below

the youngsters are kissing as they go
tight in skins together
thief thick they are
and honest in poverty

some days walk just as far as a poem
then so I sit where the street will pass

Plaza de las Tendillas, 7.23 pm, 24°
the oranges in the square, big and green

the bomberos park in the street that runs through
lights on, motors running
they ease out, embrace
and chew the fat
drive on still chatting
nothing to see here

the rested knee goes on – a reconquest!

how could they be so crazy for churches
for bells, for so long

a fountain will always remind me to drink

acanthus makes marble
let all of my age come grey for their charm

so many stand their quizzical corners
eyes drill into screens
taxi sighs by

I come to this town as an un-familiar
by magic to any other age

speaking of which
friends and I ask you – this everywhere Jesus
as white as the pigeons have polished – all grey

how many times can you crucify God?
and still the bad penny turns up

low life we're talking

some speak up to windows
or down to pram travellers
also the dogled
then the respectable

the whistling is opera
I don't know this place at all

some days I walk just as far as a poem

I'm the eyes wide

then let the map appear at my feet
better still – be lost

keep loose the pleasure of not knowing
I love to find what wondering brings

I'm the eyes wide
and the eyes in the book
you may come to turn through yet

let all my ruins be Roman
let my dancing thoughts be Greek