tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64311110574810637102024-03-05T12:24:50.560-05:00THE AMETAMYSTAESIS OF MAN<i><strong>It has been proven that the patience of ants outweigh the worth of saints...</strong></i>
this is the blog of RICHARD WILLIAM KIRKPATRICK-THORNE, author of STILLNESS AND ECHOES.RWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.comBlogger110125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431111057481063710.post-38844298741161079052021-06-15T14:47:00.002-04:002021-06-15T14:57:03.628-04:00The Road To A Chattering Maw
To Trip Upon The Rising Whipping Strut, <div>In Timed For Not The Clicking Tick, </div><div>As Dwarven And Buried As The Scarab's Scratching Gnaw, </div><div>Then To Wards Of Oblivion's Laughing Glass Jaw... </div><div>... </div><div><i>How Do</i> The Cowled Howl To Spoon At A Moon's Gate, </div><div>Under Naught The Saucer Nor Cupped, </div><div>To See The Saw By Ruby Wooded And Stoned, </div><div>And Bee For The Maw By Baby Hooded </div><div>And Honed. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>-RICHARD WILLIAM KIRKPATRICK-THORNE</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>*This poem was originally written for an Elder Scrolls Online player with the PSN name "bokurai" who offered me 2000 gold (in game) for a poem. Enjoy.</div>RWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431111057481063710.post-73985084723405424952019-07-25T19:34:00.002-04:002019-07-25T19:34:18.418-04:00Have A Drink<br />
<br />
Time Rhymes With Orange Rinds,<br />
My Mind Is Not Of Yours Pined...<br />
...<br />
What Is Mine Not Yours,<br />
Through My Walls Or Doors...<br />
...<br />
You Will Know As I Be Spined,<br />
That Last Secret You Shall Find.<br />
<br />
-RICHARD WILLIAM KIRKPATRICK-THORNERWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431111057481063710.post-44863891123618781842019-07-20T12:22:00.002-04:002019-07-20T12:22:55.772-04:00Hello<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-9f5ab7e6-7fff-097d-b5f3-567750d7d2dd" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If Something Be Rotten In The Maw Of Denmark, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Then Wroughten It Be As Caged... </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">From Maw To Paw, Then Paw To Gold, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">What Silence Come Forth To Hold That With A Sigh's Last Beating,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">To Then A Twilight's Last Gleaming…</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">To When The Age Upon The Coin, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As For The Lion To A Loin.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">RICHARD WILLIAM KIRKPATRICK-THORNE</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(Props to Shakespeare.)</span></div>
RWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431111057481063710.post-23299924857123778142019-01-31T04:37:00.002-05:002019-01-31T04:37:11.494-05:00Strange Tidal Briefly<div dir="auto" style="direction: ltr; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 22px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
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A Vertically Challenged Walk For Great Herons</div>
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And Woods-Creeping Kildeer,</div>
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In The Ebony Knotted Ceiling Of Stars,</div>
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Where All That Bellows Belong To A Handed</div>
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Bewilderment... Untame And </div>
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Bearing Its Own Upon Its Pitted Back,</div>
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Plotted Black... Loss Of Worlds... Glass-Shattering...</div>
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...</div>
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A Brief Wash-Over, A Muddy Soft Reincarnation,</div>
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Throats Tightening Before The Sooty Docking </div>
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Premonition Drives A Crowd Before A Cracking Whip,</div>
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Leaning Into The Support</div>
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Scratching Its Side Against The Posts,</div>
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Taking Into The Flesh For Confident Zealotry,</div>
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Pearls To The Everlasting Deep...</div>
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...</div>
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Minds To The Horizon,</div>
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Lost For Its Travels,</div>
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Nearing Not One Inch More...</div>
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...</div>
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<i>And Now... A Switch... </i>It Clicks Into Place,</div>
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The Lasting Cupping Of Hands,</div>
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Take What You Can... As It Pours Out, An Amber Burned Sunset...</div>
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...</div>
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Swirl Your Fingers... Trace The Licking Flames.<br /><br /></div>
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RICHARD WILLIAM KIRKPATRICK-THORNE<br /></div>
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Ottawa,Ontario Tuesday November 27th 2018</div>
RWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431111057481063710.post-39742377608188756892018-07-21T16:45:00.001-04:002018-07-21T16:45:15.992-04:00Prom On Neptune<br />
<br />
Four Stones With Four Tries,<br />
For Eyes And Bow Ties,<br />
Some Skip... Some Skim,<br />
They Always Sink<br />
When Dared To Swim.<br />
<br />
-RICHARD WILLIAM KIRKPATRICK-THORNERWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431111057481063710.post-40637001620915803372018-07-16T13:04:00.000-04:002018-07-16T20:02:52.009-04:00Ode To My Hatred Of Khaki<br />
<br />
Find Some Comfort In This Uncomfortable Land,<br />
Lay Some Blankets Upon The Sand,<br />
Roll Those Pebbles Along The Beach<br />
Until They Become As Smooth As Pearls.<br />
...<br />
<i>Oh Oh...</i><br />
...<br />
One Of Vanity Arrives <br />
Mantled In A Soft Sweater<br />
<i>Sweating Not One Drop,</i><br />
Heading To A House Of Wedding Dresses<br />
In The Middle Of A Heat Wave.<br />
<br />
<br />
-RICHARD WILLIAM KIRKPATRICK-THORNERWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431111057481063710.post-17378271690591537162018-02-23T15:51:00.001-05:002018-02-23T15:51:30.008-05:00Canada, The Scottish Taffee Puller's Wet DogIt Is Like A HouseWife<br />
Who Finds A Poisonous Snake,<br />
And She Takes It<br />
Back To Her House,<br />
She Puts It Into Her Bed<br />
Next To Her Sleeping Man.<br />
<br />
She Nurses It<br />
Back To Its Health,<br />
Her Man Wakes Up<br />
To His Death,<br />
So She Gives Up<br />
Says "What Is The Use<br />
Of Saving A Man's Life<br />
When He Gets Bit?"<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
-Richard William Kirkpatrick-Thorne</blockquote>
RWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431111057481063710.post-624109599947434002016-09-21T10:01:00.000-04:002016-09-21T10:03:40.859-04:00PledgePuffer <br />
<br />
<br />
Witness To A Hole,<br />
See How A Box Sinks?<br />
In Its Finest Garden<br />
And Aloud Before A Jest,<br />
It Dashes Across Eyed Silver<br />
For The Horse's Savage Arse<br />
To Sniffle A Pastel Deliverance,<br />
A Mural Combed And Cock-Sure<br />
Knitted Into Soft Device<br />
With Hymns Perloined<br />
And Lions Purlined.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Originally posted on the blog "To Whom It May Concern" Sept 19th 2016- https://letterstoq.wordpress.com/2016/09/19/pledgepuffer-richard-william-kirkpatrick-thorne/<br />
<br />
(*I will not be writing as much poetry as I have been these last 6 years, but anything new I will definitely post.)RWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431111057481063710.post-21712820101489063632016-08-23T09:51:00.000-04:002016-09-25T13:17:32.766-04:00<br />
<br />
Hi everybody!<br />
<br />
Well, It is finally here! MY THIRD BOOK!! And since this is my final book of my poetry you KNOW it is ultra-special to me. STILLNESS AND ECHOES is now available in paperback and eBook formats from the cool folks at <a href="http://friesenpress.com/" target="_blank">Friesen Press</a> (THANK YOU VANESSA EGAN!)<br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><i> <i style="font-weight: bold;">(</i><i><b>Just click on the picture below...)</b></i></i></b></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.friesenpress.com/bookstore/title/119734000030160161" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyN4UH6UOdLE7JrImAf4khR3oPCCLJ9vGZ9lLsM7_BqY1dDt0bbixDB-HVzBxy3GKkceA7rmIQwNQxuOJ7TzMZTpwI-TLDHmaWA9Kd7nd646-Klr9sAtmd8WbeRsthvZoGjdjG_bwoaPM/s1600/sae2.JPG" /></a><a href="http://www.friesenpress.com/bookstore/title/119734000030160161" target="_blank">http://www.friesenpress.com/bookstore/title/119734000030160161</a></div>
<br />
<br />
<b><i><u>LINKS TO OTHER ONLINE RETAILERS:</u></i></b><br />
<br />
Barnes & Noble- <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/stillness-and-echoes-richard-william-kirkpatrick-thorne/1124413697?ean=9781460294994" target="_blank">http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/stillness-and-echoes-richard-william-kirkpatrick-thorne/1124413697?ean=9781460294994</a><br />
<br />
Chapters-Indigo Books- <a href="https://www.chapters.indigo.ca/en-ca/books/stillness-and-echoes/9781460294994-item.html" target="_blank">https://www.chapters.indigo.ca/en-ca/books/stillness-and-echoes/9781460294994-item.html</a><br />
<b><i><u><br /></u></i></b>
Amazon.com- <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Stillness-Echoes-Richard-William-Kirkpatrick-Thorne/dp/1460294998" target="_blank">https://www.amazon.com/Stillness-Echoes-Richard-William-Kirkpatrick-Thorne/dp/1460294998</a><br />
<br />
Google Books- <a href="https://books.google.ca/books?id=trflDAAAQBAJ&dq=%22Richard+William+Kirkpatrick-Thorne%22&source=gbs_navlinks_s" target="_blank">https://books.google.ca/books?id=trflDAAAQBAJ&dq=%22Richard+William+Kirkpatrick-Thorne%22&source=gbs_navlinks_s</a><br />
<br />
KOBO Books (eBook)- <a href="https://store.kobobooks.com/en-ca/ebook/stillness-and-echoes" target="_blank">https://store.kobobooks.com/en-ca/ebook/stillness-and-echoes</a><br />
<br />
Bol.com- (NEDERLANDS- eBook)- <a href="https://www.bol.com/nl/p/stillness-and-echoes/9200000064133636/" target="_blank">https://www.bol.com/nl/p/stillness-and-echoes/9200000064133636/</a><br />
<br />
Booktopia- (AUSTRALIA- paperback)- <a href="http://www.booktopia.com.au/stillness-and-echoes-richard-william-kirkpatrick-thorne/prod9781460294994.html" target="_blank">http://www.booktopia.com.au/stillness-and-echoes-richard-william-kirkpatrick-thorne/prod9781460294994.html</a><br />
<br />
Liveria Culturia- (SOUTH AMERICA-eBook)- <a href="http://www.livrariacultura.com.br/p/stillness-and-echoes-104340666" target="_blank">http://www.livrariacultura.com.br/p/stillness-and-echoes-104340666</a><br />
<br />
Have a good one and <b><i>PLEASE BUY MY BOOK!</i></b><br />
<br />
<br />
-Richard William Kirkpatrick-Thorne<br />
Ottawa, Ontario, CanadaRWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431111057481063710.post-25004605342466433662015-10-18T13:08:00.001-04:002015-10-18T13:13:19.906-04:00My Third Book Of Poetry, "Stillness And Echoes" in the works!Hi everybody,<br />
<br />
I hope you have been enjoying my work and I just want to let you all know that I am currently working on my third book... transcribeing my poems from two of my notebooks into my laptop, readying them for publishing.<br />
<br />
The title of my third collection will be "Stillness And Echoes", originally I had "The PitchFork By The Halo's Loft" as the working title, but as stillness and echo are recurring themes I decided on giving my new book a more appropriate name.<br />
<br />
So, here's an idea of what the cover of "Stillness And Echoes" will look like... useing one of my photos from my old project...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTFglH-JRj42WqvEMHTOWSIrI41xf_GpmMkkjXiCyK-zDgrRt0TS_iJ9lraoXrJzKBSis1TPiy7uZOWulgwa10yAeqeHwEcuo5ajyY74KLevuqex7AB4j5ODKDKtwk7tZWcQ4QGkHqjdo/s1600/new+idea.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTFglH-JRj42WqvEMHTOWSIrI41xf_GpmMkkjXiCyK-zDgrRt0TS_iJ9lraoXrJzKBSis1TPiy7uZOWulgwa10yAeqeHwEcuo5ajyY74KLevuqex7AB4j5ODKDKtwk7tZWcQ4QGkHqjdo/s640/new+idea.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
It will be published within the new year (2016), so I will keep everybody up to date<br />
as the book progresses.<br />
<br />
Thank you for reading,<br />
<br />
-Richard William Kirkpatrick-Thorne<br />
<br />
* and here are my first two books of poetry, if you are into that sort of thing:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.friesenpress.com/bookstore/title/119734000012629528" target="_blank">L'Oeil Du Minuit</a> <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.friesenpress.com/bookstore/title/119734000016132139" target="_blank">The Tangled Cedaring Sublime & Its Knotting InTo NoThing Of Time</a><br />
<span id="goog_1284832469"></span><span id="goog_1284832470"></span><br />RWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431111057481063710.post-34475828990981323372015-10-09T13:49:00.005-04:002015-10-09T13:49:58.138-04:00Obliteration Will Have To Wade In With Both Feet Soggy (Originally written for a contest on allpoetry.com Oct. 9th, 2015)<br />
You Have To Feed A Cookie To The Soul,<br />
That Magnificent Monster Crawling In Circles<br />
Round And Round In The Core Of A Man's Mind,<br />
Its Approximate Location Is UnKnown To Most<br />
From OutSide One's Skull If Not The Host,<br />
Though SomeTimes Science Gets Bold Enough<br />
To Counter The Pompous Spittle Of Their Holy Zeal<br />
With An Overwhelming Urge To Command And Conquer,<br />
Set Up Bubble-Glassed Research Stations And Bullet-Proof Census Tickers,<br />
Hand Out Pamphlets With Treats For Involuntary Response,<br />
Run A Ritualized Process Of Evolution InTo The Ground Of MotherHood,<br />
And Construct New Churches For Architectural Obligations<br />
To A Million Bird Martyrs And Cupid Worm Compromises,<br />
All To Pass Some Endowment From A Cunt's Wafer Off As A Sweet Deal,<br />
Then Instruct The Wet-Nurses Ways To Silence An UpRiseing,<br />
Before A Lost Soul Can Direct A Finger<br />
To Point Out The Lack Of Sand In The Concrete<br />
Before It Sets Around The Frosted Foot Of A Decorated Enemy,<br />
Lest His Pointy Nose Persuades The Irish To Be As His Hounds Of War,<br />
For Green Potatoed Visions Through The Greys Of Their Lives.<br />
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RWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431111057481063710.post-2838097477371551782015-10-07T13:30:00.003-04:002015-10-09T12:44:34.034-04:00Circe Would Be ProudThe Fire Alarm Screams<br />
That High Cold Electric Squeal,<br />
There Goes That Fat Piggy Running For The Exit,<br />
His Ham-Hocks In His Ham-Socks<br />
Run Run Running For The Door,<br />
Curly Piggy Hair On His Burly Piggy Head,<br />
Sweat On His Warted Piggy Tongued Brow,<br />
Certain To Be Twitching In His Fat Piggy Pants<br />
That Cork-Screw Tail To Do With A Piggy Pig Dance,<br />
ABoard A Fat Piggy Bus To His Piggy Piggy Shack,<br />
Then Get To His Invisible Piggy-Club Sty<br />
Meet Up With The Secret Piggy Piggies That Spy,<br />
All Scared Of Fire... Because Piggies Will Fry,<br />
Though They Pray Piggy Prayers To Giant Pig Piggies,<br />
For That Piggy Piggy Paradise Of Bigger Piggy Pigs,<br />
Why Is That Piggy Such A Piggy Piggy Pig,<br />
As He Pigs And He Pigs And He Pigs With Piggy Power,<br />
As He Runs For The Exit For A Seat For His Piggy Pig Ass,<br />
His Ham-Bone Pig Piggy Arms WindMilling... Carrying Him AWay...<br />
...<br />
Piggy Piggy Is Now UpOn The Wind... Beyond The Fear Of Frying,<br />
He Is Flying...<br />
...<br />
He Is Flying...<br />
...<br />
He Is Gone.<br />
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<br />RWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431111057481063710.post-57518388391057232762015-09-25T10:19:00.002-04:002015-09-25T18:59:14.635-04:00A Sea Half Full (Originally posted for a contest on allpoetry.com 09/25/15)<br />
<br />
<i>What</i> Pierces Through The Nightingale's Chord,<br />
To Rest As If NoThing On The Back Of A Hand,<br />
ALit And Lightly Through The Windowed Maw,<br />
As If Through Lunacy Could It Cure<br />
The Meandering Thoughts Of Clammy Despair,<br />
From Where One Could Be Found Bound In Somber Depths,<br />
Whistleing For Wolves To Shed Their Skins...<br />
...<br />
<i>When</i> To Be The Cause Of Charon To Tilt The Chin,<br />
To Gaze Up At This Earthly Domain,<br />
And Then Row Silently Over Shadowless Waters...<br />
...<br />
...?<br />
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Georgia, Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 27px;"><br /></span>RWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431111057481063710.post-1092516543987153592015-09-23T11:41:00.000-04:002015-09-23T11:50:42.848-04:00Mother SpiderShe Strangles Strangers,<br />
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Watch Them Dangle In Their Free-Range Sandals,</div>
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Hung Up Like Hams In Circus Tents,</div>
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Sighing Over Anxiety InTo Their Psalms As Salt Hits The Safety Nets,</div>
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Slobbering At The Ropes... Showing The Crowd Visions For Drunken Fish...</div>
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...</div>
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<i>It Is Her Crowd</i>... And Her Audience Claps At Another Dumb Fuck,</div>
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Another Fallen God In Debt Up To His Crown Jewels,</div>
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Eyeing His Pope's Floating Elephants To Send For Sacred Brethren,</div>
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Dissipating In The Final Thresholds... InTo The Stomachs Of Chamber Maids,</div>
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Imagining WithOut A Doubt...</div>
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... </div>
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...</div>
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For A Wondrous Sundering Of Thunder,<br />
Flaps Opening Wide For A Dust-Moted Blast Of DayLight,</div>
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To Wagner's Riders From The Third Act Storming In To Save The Lost Reich,</div>
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<i>The Grey Race Of Spinning Puppy Psychologists And Their Apostle Harvesters,</i></div>
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<i>A Brazillian Renaissance Assured,</i><br />
<i>An A-List Charter OutSide Of Some Two-Faced Muddy Barrow,</i></div>
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<i>Because...</i></div>
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...</div>
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...</div>
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Tested Proven Through The Mystic Virginity Of Tesla's Tied Tubes</div>
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Nature Is A Curious Cloud For The Stench Of AnyThing Fat And Dieing,</div>
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So <i>Naturally</i> All Dogs Piss On Any Gate They Can Find,</div>
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Beside Their Uncanny Talents For Gnawing At Bones, Sniffing Ass And Licking Palms. </div>
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RWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431111057481063710.post-58763479245685527012015-09-10T12:40:00.002-04:002015-09-11T10:06:34.774-04:00A CrossRoads In CanadaAt The Corner,<br />
Go On... Put Your Hands On Your Waist,<br />
And Make Haste,<br />
GodSpeed And In A Boy-Dream<br />
With One Toe Over The Curb,<br />
Cross With The Bell-Curve,<br />
Let The Shadow Of The City Smooth Your Way,<br />
Blotted As A Meadow's Peak Roughened By Morning Clouds...<br />
...<br />
<i>You Are A Butterfly In A WindStorm...</i><br />
...<br />
Separate Each Voice You Live In Colors Of Flickering Irises,<br />
View Lightly In Each Step And Being,<br />
Flow InTo The Following Of Night To Day,<br />
Sculpted As You May Be To The Grand Wax Politic,<br />
Toil For The Gold Of Maples,<br />
Charm The Phone-Line Poles To Bare Loins For Aristotle,<br />
Swallow Those Brittle Wafers Of Obligatory Subjugation<br />
And Cling To Your Mother's Dress.<br />
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<br />RWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431111057481063710.post-13357600067696591612015-08-26T10:44:00.000-04:002015-08-26T10:47:07.830-04:00The Fold<br />
I Can Not See My Eyes,<br />
I Climb InTo The Mirror And Through It,<br />
Through Where My Eyes Would Be,<br />
And NoThing Is Stareing Back At Me.<br />
...<br />
...<br />
A Face And A Mask Is What Am I Now,<br />
Drawn To Reflect And So I Turn,<br />
InTo The Edges And A Weakening Hold,<br />
Players And Smoke To Mind And Mold,<br />
These Ages Furrowed For Rocks To Throw,<br />
I Ready MySelf And Aim For Thrice,<br />
For The Shadow Of What I Am To What I Will,<br />
Until Beyond The Fold To What I Fill...<br />
...<br />
...<br />
Never The Earth To Hold My Ground,<br />
Never In Sleep Could Peace Be Found,<br />
ForEver I Be Simple For Words To See,<br />
And NoThing Bleeding Back To Me.<br />
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<br />RWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431111057481063710.post-2716430092813866142015-08-01T10:47:00.005-04:002015-08-01T11:06:10.661-04:00(...) As Humboldt The Drum Chide The Rulers,<br />
Entomb Your Kings And Your Queens Under The Table,<br />
Let The Gamble For Blood Be Pricked And Run Blue,<br />
For Its Purity Be A Rabid Chase InTo The Fold,<br />
With Its Badges Gilded As Its Bridges Be In Kind,<br />
Over Burning Ravines And Canned Applause,<br />
Tense With A Molted Salivary,<br />
Clapping Against The Body-Electric,<br />
Sinking It Deep InTo The Sour Earth,<br />
Vineyards And Vanity... Insects In Sects,<br />
Hive The Heavy-Breaded In Honey,<br />
While Death-Watches Hold Hands For Hoods,<br />
Ticking Steady Near HeadBoards For The Mother Of Pearls,<br />
An Hour An Ear On Signals From Pluto's Orchard,<br />
To Tell Those Red With The Rust Of Eleusinian Mystery<br />
That Her Fruit Has Fury,<br />
And Amber Be Its Garden's Palace.<br />
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<br />RWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431111057481063710.post-24681165734763113002015-07-15T11:01:00.001-04:002015-07-15T13:57:11.589-04:00What The Fuck Does Norman Mailer Know About AnyThing, AnyWays?An Inked Epidemic<br />
To Fit WithIn Borders,<br />
High-Diveing Fifty-Fiveing,<br />
Splattering UpOn The Paved Recess,<br />
With The Obsession Of Rorschach<br />
To OutWit Pollock,<br />
And Resurrect A Cold-Nose To Beg<br />
Joan Of Arc Out From Under Her Corset... Worming In A Fist...<br />
...<br />
Hinting Patchouli In The HayStack... The Marco Polo Of St.Louis,<br />
Crooking All Spirited To Arched Bluffs...<br />
...<br />
Arrested InTo A State Of Commercial DisOrder,<br />
Needled InTo A Rug SomeWhere In Tangier,<br />
Liquor-Soaked... Pursueing A Lesson In Taxidermy,<br />
Old And Dieing And Queer... Coughing Dry As Swine Drowning Would,<br />
Sticking What Timely Bones Remain InTo Stomachs To Drain,<br />
As Hotel Bills Pile Up Beside Greasy Floor Cushions,<br />
To Muffle The Pot InTo A Softly Padded Cell,<br />
That Dead Wife Laughing Last... Storming In And Fast.<br />
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<br />RWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431111057481063710.post-79010684080098087712015-07-12T11:17:00.003-04:002015-07-12T11:17:28.259-04:00Nine After Ten (originally written for the "10 Words" contest on allpoetry.com- July 12,2015)Gut,<br />
Thought,<br />
Ring,<br />
Bought,<br />
Eyeless,<br />
Hungover,<br />
Farmed,<br />
Framed,<br />
Forgotten,<br />
Named.<br />
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<br />RWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431111057481063710.post-86903281781261201562015-07-10T09:18:00.000-04:002015-07-10T09:18:00.667-04:00Inter-State PeppermintGaze Up At The Heavens,<br />
Those Little Plastic Boxes,<br />
Down Here Life Went Missing,<br />
And It All Comes Back To Those In A Piece Of Cake...<br />
...<br />
Some Days... Lift Blue Eyes To Witness,<br />
Other Days... Blink AWay That Wetness,<br />
Too Many Days Have Come And Gone,<br />
And Skin Only Lasts So Long...<br />
...<br />
Not Starving Yet Hollow,<br />
Fed Dry To The SkyLit Shallows,<br />
Absurd And Obsolete To Wear Those Masks That Hang,<br />
ALone With Hands AWare...<br />
...<br />
So Now To Autumn For Heat's Last Grasp,<br />
Long As Those Roads Where Trees OverLook,<br />
Passing By Like Phantoms Of Dawn And Dusk,<br />
Left To Cut Through With Limbs Lost.<br />
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<br />RWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431111057481063710.post-14071666586242399982015-07-02T10:42:00.000-04:002015-07-04T10:44:32.560-04:00A Little Water To Rise Above High BrowsThe Machine Loosens Its Teeth On Habit,<br />
Parts Gyrating InTo StainLess ClockWork And Burning Ethereal,<br />
Ozone Melts At Its Edges Near Eternal Meshing,<br />
<i>All This</i> Is The Flesh On Its Bones... It'll Make You Wonder...<br />
...<br />
Where Does The Wind Blow From?<br />
...<br />
...<br />
Cold Snap Lightning-Quick,<br />
A Subtle Twist In Time Here And There,<br />
An <i>Integrate... </i>Snapping InTo A Life Of Dampness and Skin,<br />
Stareing For What Was Lost In The Rain...<br />
...<br />
NoThing Less.<br />
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<br />RWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431111057481063710.post-48011948433443997142015-05-27T17:35:00.000-04:002015-05-27T17:35:07.197-04:00Boldly The HumWrite It Out In Blood,<br />
In The Fat Of Your Fathers,<br />
In The Keeping Of Heritage,<br />
Spontaneous And Bricked,<br />
For Dryed-Up Husks Grasping At Cognac,<br />
For High Minstrels Of Abbey-Born Winds,<br />
As They Push The Cornets With FingerTips UnYielding,<br />
To Stab The Notes And Bear The Seed,<br />
For Dieing Breeds Of Militant Pressures,<br />
Under Skins Not Worn With Wine,<br />
To Be Forgotten,<br />
To Be White-Washed,<br />
To Marbled Keeps And Flickering Wrists,<br />
For Time To March In Burr And Fervour,<br />
When Spurred... When Sparred,<br />
For The Crowded Din On Streets,<br />
Then To The Sweeping Away Of Sleep And Solstice.<br />
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<br />RWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431111057481063710.post-22195507000420283412015-05-22T21:31:00.003-04:002015-05-23T11:00:28.023-04:00Yard SaleAn Old Hornet Summer's Sting,<br />
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Neatly Cyclonic Cycloptic Chronic,</div>
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Airing Out The Garage-Sale Haggles,</div>
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Letting Ants Chew On Cat-Scratched Legs,</div>
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Clinking Chipped Rockwell,</div>
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Rubber Toys Coated In Saliva... UnBlinking Cartoon Eyes,</div>
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Plastic MilkCrate DollHouse AfterNoon,</div>
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ToothPicks... AshTrays... CardSuits On Shot-Glasses,</div>
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A Faded Three-Colored Beach Umbrella,</div>
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Warped Vinyl... Groovy Cellar Dampness,</div>
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Red Rider And Fisher-Price... Parker Brothers And Milton Bradley,</div>
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Fishing-Rod Peeling... Tackle-Box Rusting... Old BackYard Flag...</div>
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...</div>
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Cold Sag BackWards... Busts Tickled Pink... Feeling For Roman Gods,</div>
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Uncle Miltie In Sparkleing Push-Ups... Barking For Betty,</div>
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Gnawing Into The Leather Straps... Drooling Like A Puppy For The Gravy Train,</div>
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Bite-Marks In The Lucky Lucite... Suspended Four-Leafed Maiden Humbleness,</div>
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Horse-Whips And Bacardi... Ice-Cubes... Thumb-Screws,</div>
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Late Night Lessons For Supper-Clubbed Choke-Chained Dog-Leashed Spastics,</div>
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UnBlinking Cartoon Eyes... Rubber Toys Coated In Saliva,</div>
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Secret Keys... Ceramic Masks... Chalk Powder,</div>
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Fat-Stretched Mewing In Wet Latex Pants,</div>
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Gagging On Social Grace And Pool Ball Economics,</div>
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Defeated... Cloned... Clipped... Decorated,</div>
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A New Ornate Mummer's Dance.</div>
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RWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431111057481063710.post-37344216021707263392015-05-17T12:29:00.001-04:002015-10-23T10:50:49.536-04:00JellyFish And PokerChips<i>A JellyFish Shaman Born InTo The Emerald ForEver...</i><br />
...<br />
The Snowy Mistress Of Songs UnSung Opened Her Teepee Flaps,<br />
And Darting Out From The Smoke Flew The Sparrows And Swallows,<br />
So He Plucked What Feathers He Could Pluck... After Which He Picked A Seat Beside The Devil...<br />
...<br />
There The Horizons Molted Their Stoney-Toothed Visions Of Perfect Hands<br />
To Bare High Stakes Bets Based On UnCertain Futures,<br />
Simian Parachute-Packs Sweating Through CowBoy-Silk Shirts...Clawing Through The Warhol-Printed Plains,<br />
Fifteen Brave Minutes To Geronimo For Associated Pressures To Relate,<br />
<i>And If No Body Jumps When He Does...</i><br />
...<br />
Then To The Sending Of Broken Arrows To BreadLines And Soup Kitchens,<br />
Making Peace Where Treaties OverLap...<br />
...<br />
Because <i>Here</i>... Here We Are All Eating The Moss Off Of The Morning Rocks,<br />
Out Here... <i>Oh, Yeah</i>...<br />
<i>...</i><br />
<i>It's All Good</i>...<br />
...<br />
...<br />
That JellyFish Shaman... Feel Him Pull Back Now... Dressed In Casual Attire,<br />
The Fires Of Ancestral Pride Have Receded With Glacier-Like Ferocity,<br />
A Walker On Coals... A Cougar In The Caribou-Firs... Not Kept To The Waters,<br />
Boiling In His Moccasins The Heavyer Sole Of An Indian Summer,<br />
Like His Pony-Tail... It Is Tied Into A Dieing Tit For Journeys In The Sun...<br />
...<br />
No Curse Of Whey In Here... <i>I May Be Small And By The Savannah River,</i><br />
At One With The Great Wait In The Sky...<br />
...<br />
...<br />
<i>Oh... JellyFish Shaman... Born InTo The Emerald ForEver,</i><br />
Did You Not Hear Your Mistress Call You Back InTo The Flame... <i>Back To Your Wheel?</i><br />
...<br />
...<br />
Why Are You Still Sitting There?<br />
...<br />
<i>Why?</i><br />
...<br />
...<br />
<i>Are You Still Turning?</i><br />
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<br />RWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6431111057481063710.post-71354251382181898252015-05-11T14:45:00.001-04:002015-05-11T15:20:12.485-04:00September In The Midst Of Things (Originally written as my entry today into AllPoetry.com's May 2015 poetry contest)What A Price To Pay,<br />
For Subtlety To Boast Constellations,<br />
A Drowned Out Cry From My Crawl-Space Bricked From Youth,<br />
Where A Spindle Might Draw Out Blue Before Red,<br />
And I Be Made To Sit If Not With Thoughts To Denmark,<br />
Then To Barricade My Self From Humiliating Clarity,<br />
As With Equal Steps Towards Failure To Be Recognized...<br />
...<br />
<i>UpOn Such Innocent WoodWork Might I Be Crowned By Old Bitter Spite...</i><br />
...<br />
While Danceing Betwixt Each Shelf... A Worm Amongst Words,<br />
Cherished With A Communion That May Sweep BloodLines For Pearls,<br />
Straying Not From A Witness... As My Jaw Be Clenched In Sweetness Lost,<br />
That WithOut The FaithLess Muse To Shatter The Ruse Of False Truth,<br />
Those In Its Distillery May Be Cask'd InTo The Shadows,<br />
Only To Bathe In Its Light.<br />
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<br />RWKThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02049775932297630047noreply@blogger.com0