by phillipw | Sep 18, 2019 | BU
Highs and Lows 0 What if the Buddha got it wrong and deaths Don’t take us to Nirvana but instead Produce a consciousness too much like meths, Or LSD? Or if that final bed, The one for each immortal soul, is full Of nightmares (weedy paranoia), Because...
by phillipw | Sep 18, 2019 | SE
My Skeleton is not a Cage 0 My skeleton is not a cage, or, if It is, a curious one. Important parts Are held outside the bars, though some are stiff As cartilage or bones. This fact imparts A certain freedom to my meaning, to What I define by my existence. I Am not...
by phillipw | Sep 18, 2019 | BY, Ta
Talleyrand and de Biron Lord Byron 0 These two engaged in a competition With long dead Baron Byron—those French lords T. and Duc de Biron . The ambition Was for them to strike more holes with their swords Than George did; these later playboys between Them would heat...
by phillipw | Sep 18, 2019 | ET, NI
Nietzsche’s Law of the Eternal Recurrence http://norsemathology.org Repetition is powerless before Ecstasy. Rosaries cannot deny The urge for semen, chanting still the whore. Adultery invades the manly eye A hundred trillion...
by phillipw | Sep 18, 2019 | BR
Resignation When hearts accept defeat, they do not make Hurt sounds, not even some hard-swelling beat Beyond the norm. They do not feel a stake Thrust through them, their spasming muscle. Seat Of human feelings, throne of love, the heart...
by phillipw | Sep 18, 2019 | MI
A Diminished Thing The ruin of a stylish building, he Presides now over that dull avenue Late Middle Age. Not near senility, This man’s poetic as Kalamazoo, Yet once he was a skyscraper with black Curls. They are going thin and turning gray. His massive...
by phillipw | Sep 18, 2019 | PA
Paradise Tossed It seem to me that paradise would soon Become a glut, perhaps already is For those who dwell there. It’s as if the noon Had giant spotlights added and the fizz Of sixty billion sparklers, too, and then Someone lets off a hundred trillion A Bombs...
by phillipw | Sep 18, 2019 | FA, SP
Spenser’s Red Cross Knight Edmund Spenser, Wikipedia The Red Cross Knight was far too much. The dark Spell-casters, monsters, faeries–whatever– He kept avoiding, meeting in the park Of that ridiculous poem, never Found him interesting...
