Self-Portrait With Pipe (An Englishman In Amsterdam)
Reveille blasts –
animating smeary spectrums
as hallucinogenics roll
a larva-lamp brain.
Artis Zoo wafts in ether,
cawing, whinnying, bleating,
daubs of surface drizzle.
gingery five guilders
I scrape for fete
to the steamroom
and wriggling pool,
flesh and grunts
of tracking-shot sex
across the moviehouse screen.
At the Torture Museum I crawl,
a crib of skewers,
Iron Maiden’s split ‘n’ spikes,
a grill for charring heretics,
of our last liaison…
cringing before the whip.
By Christopher Barnes, UK
I’ll streak you like a hussy,
black-hearted to the false nails,
sacrifice your eyes
to the glare of cussedness.
Mothered of the dice
you shot and let slip, the irascible gimbals
of the head
like a flint buzzard about to rip
rags of lively flesh.
I’ll illustrate the bending-wire,
the lack of reins,
the very sag in your ligaments,
resentment in the nose.
And in your lips the crushing rebuke
of your worst, most insuperable blunders.
I’ll fight shy of my stunts,
their awful upshots and pretty-pretty slurs,
by blurting out the following trite remark:
I won’t permit your unworthiness
to override my tender heart.
In the creepered forest
her garbling head
simpering to snore-stinging bugbears,
nodding on slithers of flesh.
Bog tracks rise,
she slides into a swirling pit,
there to deadlock ravages.
Brought back to Spring
on a coroner’s block,
body bones recemented
for 15 minutes of fame.
She used to be someone once
but no skulled brain remembers
There’s psychokinesis/in balmy air,
the phase change of Revolution./53 Campville Rd.
Realpolitik teases/the art of the thinkable,/deadlock/
then three cheers/to the plausibility of change.
My house-warming friends are Polytechnic Reds,
with piled-on theatrics./The She-Artist,/yellow-black like a beautiful boy.
The pealing queen,/window-rattling with asthma
and the He-Harlot/with the hoodlum family.
The chemosphere tests summer/as we ripen ourselves
run-amock loves/and distracting clothes.
‘You’re using this hutch as a fuckhouse!’
she said as she ushered in another man
while I/unzipped Malik to mahogany
a kaleidoscope of releasing hormones
through the grey matter of my head.
*essay by, Russian Revolutionary
who theorised ‘Free Love’
“Actors can go on serenely lisping
their nancy numbers, mincing the English
language into shrivelled murmurs.”
- Sean O’Casey
Yes please. Play that bit again.
Furnish the lip with instinct,
sulk like DiCaprio, to order.
Be petulant for me, a carnal imp.
Haunt dreamily over mint and honey air.
Groan like a contralto
when I say I love you.
Sabatini’s is of enigmatic age.
A white-cliffs ceiling
hung with dangling fronds: ivy,
wandering sailor, punnets of bromeliad,
Chinese evergreen. There’s a weak-willed pulse
of blue grass fiddle, sawing, soft
On the cheroot-lacquered walls, specks
of spumante, infrequent portraits:
Engels in eggshell blue, an aphrodisiac-eyed
Kafka, and in the long-range gloom?
We eat our carbinaira, sip cokes.
Darling you were marvellous
when the wick slipped,
exclaiming your dramatic spiel
then your face cease-fired, suddenly old.
remind you that the heat
of late ’46
as it pumped
whorls to your heart.
Search for “Blue Prelude,”
brings forth fruits
rare hist of orange
summer on the hill.
Beads agonizing across a wall
in generations glisten.
Years counted by the string
row upon row gifts she gave
her lesbian of green fields.
By Christopher Barnes, UK
He worked for the firm
That cleans our building.
The night before he died
We walked the school together.
With amiable displeasure
I had shown him things
And we lamented
(Him an old school man, too)
Unwiped blinds and louvers,
How kids are nowadays,
Trouble getting good help:
Someone else must make some sense
Of the notes he took that night:
The company doesn’t know
Who they’ll send us now.
See, there on top of the lockers,
In the dust caught in the afternoon’s late light,
Plowed by the fingers of a hand which
Must have been his.
Language, quixotic, carries weight
It cannot bear.
A boy spent hours in practice—
Tennis, piano scales, free throws.
Later he practiced medicine,
His sister practiced law,
Always getting ready, it seemed,
For something else.
At the restaurant
He thought of a bad pun
And made a note:
He also waits who only stands and serves.
HAIKU: AFTER LABOR DAY
Labor Day morning:
Sky in the west threatens rain,
Thinks better of it.
Vernal stream is dry,
Rushing waters gone for now,
Thomas and Beth, too.
After Labor Day,
Left behind by friends.
Robert Demaree is a retired educator with ties to North Carolina, Pennsylvania and New Hampshire. His most recent collection of poems, Fathers and Teachers, was published April 2007 by Beech River Books and is available through Amazon.com.
I’ve been thinking about you
I don't want to think of anyone else
I enjoy thinking about you
Even more than about myself
I keep thinking
And thinking is truly good
But I keep thinking
About you as if I should
And I know I must
Because I know I can
I am surely able
To stay and be your man
This has cause me some hurting
Some urgency and pain
But I shall always love you
Cause I’ve been thinking of you again
I’ve Been Thinking
I’ve been thinking about you About your delicious eyes I’ve been wondering about you
Hope that’s not a surprise I’ve been dreaming about you Just like taking away Any and all of the truth That occurs on this day I’ve been hoping for you In very and many a way Cause I know I am in love with
you For this and every other day My Eyes Are Getting Tired My eyes are getting tired Feeling filled with molasses My face is feeling heavy Under these bodacious glasses But my heart, of my heart Feels so steady with you around
I’ve been thinking about you
About your delicious eyes
I’ve been wondering about you
Hope that’s not a surprise
I’ve been dreaming about you
Just like taking away
Any and all of the truth
That occurs on this day
I’ve been hoping for you
In very and many a way
Cause I know I am in love with you
For this and every other day
My Eyes Are Getting Tired
My eyes are getting tired
Feeling filled with molasses
My face is feeling heavy
Under these bodacious glasses
But my heart, of my heart
Feels so steady with you around it
Selling America and the Rest of the World Short
by Michael Levy
Oh! How the mighty have fallen, is a quote from the Old Testament that pertains to the collapse of past dynasties. In today's world, it deals with the downfall of the major infrastructure of capital markets in the USA and the systemic fallout all around the world.
The demise of, Freddie Mac, Fannie May, Indi Bank are a few that has already caused disruption costing billions of tax payers money. Waiting in the wings of fiscal devastation are the firms such as, Lehman , , and , etc; whose shares have been devastated by speculative short sellers. The question is, have the media unjustly helped the billionaire short sellers achieve massive profits from the demise of major investment, brokerage and banking institutions. Also, have the financial institutions, in part, been hoisted by their own petard of greed.
Last month, one of the main financial TV channels had a billionaire short seller on their morning show for one hour, explaining a very cleverly thought of plan why the shares of Freddie Mac and Fannie May should go to zero. Perhaps if a professor of economics, that is not affiliation with any speculators, spoke about institutions that are in dire straits, it is acceptable. However, when a billionaire speculator is given an hour to deliver his schemes, with a self declared, vested interest in his short positions, it is totally immoral if not illegal.
This practice continues unabated. On Wednesday 9 September 08, on a popular TV financial channel, almost every segment throughout the day, had guests who were short selling speculators, talking about the demise of Lehman. The next day the stock was cut in half from already greatly depressed levels.
The same style of erroneous intellectual propaganda that drove house prices to unsustainable levels, that thrust oil up to $147 a barrel and other commodities to unrealistic altitudes, is now being spread, bringing about the premature collapse of financial houses, whose stock book values are worth far more than the current traded price. Top analysts have stated the prices have detached from fundamentals. It seems the themes played out on fear based emotions, all brought about by past greed, are driving down prices far faster than normal trading in past years, that did not have such powerful leveraged derivatives.
There is no doubt many companies in the financial arena have brought about their own destruction by their own avarice and greed. They dreamt up many derivatives and collateralized notes that were backed up with valueless assets. To cut a long story short, the bosses have been paid millions of dollars when they were kicked out and the common shareholders are left with zero. They are now been taken to the cleaners by the same type of derivatives they devised and traded ... Karma, maybe?
The government declares they are in favor of free markets and do not want to bring in the up-tick rule that would limit short sellers. They also do not want to stop naked short selling although some say it is already illegal. This means, without new regulations, the short sellers can take advantage of a bad situation and fast-track its demise with the help of the media who assigns them lots of free air space.
The founding fathers of America , built up ideas and blueprints to make it the greatest country in the world. In the past few years, sharp-witted, educated wizards have devised schemes that first of all over-leveraged complicated financial instruments. This in turn has fed the short selling vultures to sell America short and to hell with all who stand in their way. The greedy few get richer in money but poorer in spirit, while everyone else just becomes impoverish.
Who is to blame for the farces in a USA comedy of financial errors ...
• Is it the bosses who allowed the greed to rampantly spread?
• Is it the short sellers who feed from avarice?
• Is it the media who will go to any lengths to sensationalize a story?
• Is it the government who allows it all to happen?
Perhaps all are all equally guilty and are doing more damage than any terrorist organization can do. However, they all have one thing in common... They are all extremely well educated with financial and business accruement. Lamentably, the education lacks wisdom or self respect that contains the real values and morals of humanity. If you want more proof of how obnoxious humans can sink to feather their nest, just follow the political campaign for president and observe how they degrade their fellow Americans from the opposite party.
The mighty have in-deed fallen short of grace, compassion, kindness and generosity. Negative slants have been programmed in the brains of media reporters and programmers and even the weather has become a vehicle for fear laden reporting. The quest for mastery by intellectual sophisticated, power crazed people knows no decent or wholesome boundaries.
There is no admissible truth, or acceptable wisdom, that power seeking people will correctly invest their time in, that can halt further decline into ... the slings and arrows of outrage misfortune ... Now where have I heard that before?