What's Going on in Mad Swirl’s Poetry Forum? (09.23.07)

Lots and lots and lots, that's what is going on...

We have collected poetry from the maddest poets from the maddest corners of this mad mad world and have showcased the latest Mad Ones in the Poetry Forum just for you. Currently the forum's gots lots of words from: Kenneth P. Gurney, Nicole Lilly, Ananda Selah Osel, Zoe Alexandra & Justin Hyde...

More Real

Delphi wishes to translate
from muse to person,
from thought to flesh.

What novel character
wouldn’t want to write
their own lines, make
a racket, a stink, a life real
entering the field of time.

I’d like to show her
how to part the curtain
behind my eyes, but
that well worn path of light
flows in. So, somehow,
she needs to work her way
to my breath and traverse
the tumble of air
that goes both in and out.

Yes, that is it. Breath.
Like God placed into the ash
and dust. Mine into
ink and page.

- kenneth p. gurney

Retaste

A scream of woe,
That is what she called it.
Like the sound of a young girl
the first time her knees kiss the asphalt.

Innocence lost,
vanished or at least tarnished by time.

Trauma relived
with all survivors calling for control.

I set the tone
inviting it in with bleeding eyes.
Salted droplet sting my cheeks
Wide eyes with evaporated sparks

Recreation, experimentation...
I fear my desire, my taste for the darkness

- nicole lilly

Maps

regular
clean
men
with sterile
faces
are filling
universities
and
books
and
minds
who will in
turn
fill books
and minds
with the
sameness

and
as the masses
grow even more
massive

the ants continue to build up
their kingdom

the bees keep on collecting
honey

and
the wind still blows over
the ocean

and
with that in mind
maybe our
sameness
is not so bad

after all

- ananda selah osel

I Think it's the Broken Mirror(but it's really me)

And I can see that now
That you were right
When you said
Bad luck is what you make of it

Used to think that if I
Fell in love
I wouldn't be able to write anymore
Now I realize our fights
Could fill up public libraries

I am not getting any thinner
Wish for magic cures and panaceas
While you sleep and wish me
Out of your dreams
(and maybe your reality)

I know that I am going to die
The hard way
I never make anything easy
On myself
(or anyone else for that matter)

Asthmatic cough
After inhaling a box
Of cigarettes
Now I am totally broke
Without a backbone
Or a safe word
Or a safe place
Or a sure friend

Sure I have friends
But friends have their own
Insecurities and phone bills
And all my 1st grade apologies
Begin and end the same
I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry
I love you
and as I got older graduated to
I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry
I'll suck your dick
I'll lick the floor with my tongue
Nothing makes any sense
And my mother suggests I seek
Professional help
Which is not such a bad idea
But when I need a doctor
I have not a cent to my name

And I can see that now
That you were right
When you said
Bad luck is what you make of it

And I don't know how
To confront you
And I don't know
To which level you despise me

Excuse me,
on a scale of 1-10, how much
Do you hate me?

Sorry, 100 is not a valid answer.

Mostly, I fall short of your expectations
And fault myself

I could be childish and
Carve 666 into my wrist
And listen to Morrissey
And drown in bottles of Dubra
Or I could just write a poem about it

I suppose I'm too old for true angst
After 17, it becomes adult anxiety

I'm on my last cigarette and my last seven dollars
and I read somewhere that the number one source
of spousal arguments is financial
and I want to give up the ghost but I'm too scared
this ache feels like a hangnail in my mind.

- zoe alexandra


my contribution to that canon of nullity

early on
i promised myself
i'd never
write a poem
about not
being able
to write a
poem.

it seems
all the great
and even
spectacularly
forgettable
poets
have tried polishing
that turd
at least once.

all of them
struck me as
candy-ass
glorification of
defeat

but

not once
in twenty-nine years
have i
held myself
to my word

and

three days straight
there's been
no magic
beyond
seeing how high of a
meniscus
i can pee
into empty beer bottles
before they go
waterfall.

- justin hyde

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