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solar flare
my nerves
flaying
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo

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The Navel Gazer
How did I
get to be
blown away
by the vagaries
of the wind
every which way
I turned
I was a rag
doll
flaying.
poem by Vince Gullaci

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Tracks
Mia Wasikowska, Adam Driver, Emma Booth, Jessica Tovey, Melanie Zanetti, Rainer Bock, Lily Pearl
by Marion Nelson from Tracks (2013)

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Passion
Rachel McAdams, Noomi Rapace, Karoline Herfurth, Paul Anderson, Rainer Bock, Benjamin Sadler, Michael Rotschopf, Max Urlacher, Dominic Raacke
from Passion (2012)

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Of the Apes
The words I give to the police
Are like an emergency of laziness.
My policies are like trees so learned,
Yesterday I sat on them on the canopy
With flaying arms destroying the sight of apes.
poem by Naveed Akram

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Clampdown
It was a dirty war
of moat
flaying the legs in emotional outburst.
No stings.
Only mandibles will do the job of chewing
on your dark fingers.
Flat, the taste of milk:
a synthetic formula to eat your entrails.
The plastic nose will smell the rose.
Unbuttoned,
message will bring the fishplates
and birthmark of violence.
Death has a cult of contusions.
You bleed to bones
for illuminating the street.
poem by Satish Verma

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The Water Nymphs
They hide in the brook when I seek to draw nearer,
Laughing amain when I feign to depart;
Often I hear them, now faint and now clearer—
Innocent bold or so sweetly discreet.
Are they Nymphs of the Stream at their playing
Or but the brook I mistook for a voice?
Little care I; for, despite harsh Time’s flaying,
Brook voice or Nymph voice still makes me rejoice.
poem by Ellis Parker Butler

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Dinkadow Pho Soup
Out of time,
into remembering the fun
and getting back to it.
Slowly my bock see,
a psychologist doctor of course,
talks with me about,
delegating my depression into fun.
Searching for The Monkey King,
searching for Bow Com,
The Vietnamese Judge.
I try very hard to have fun,
in my own world of Paris By Night.
Fun outside my new bedroom,
fun eating spring rolls and
fun listening to Vietnamese radio,
over the internet for free.
Cam Mon and Thank You doctor!
Out of time now,
into having fun again,
Vietnamese and English,
will always be apart of,
my chocolate milk mix of happiness.
poem by Jackie Anderson

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A Cloud In The Sky
There is a cloud in the sky and mixtures of colors floating around, now touch your lips and dream away. This is only a cloud in the sky, just only one cloud in the sky. Won’t you take me to the stars at night and watch them go flaying by, one by one they seem to fade into the night sky, now everything is alright. But when that sun comes out of his early morning bed, I’ll start to think of what I have done in my lifetime. You know that each night just brings the memories back to life, an you seem to be in a daze. And wondering to places where you never been. Now there is a cloud in the sky and it’s calling your name. Please come over here my darling and hold my hand tightly. Because you’re the light that shines on me.
Max Hornbogen
Feb 23,2008
poem by Max D. Hornbogen

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The Dream
When the white eagle of the north is flying overhead
The browns, reds and golds of autumn lie in the gutter, dead.
Remember then, that summer birds with wings of fire flaying
Came to witness springs new hope, born of leaves decaying.
Just as new life will come from death, love will come at leisure.
Love of love, love of life and giving without measure
Gives in return a wonderous yearn of a promise almost seen.
Live hand-in-hand and together well stand on the threshold of a dream.
song performed by by Moody Blues

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shakespeare's Beard
Thou hast wedged scissors in mine cranium,
Flaying thoughts by thy cutting wit's swift slice.
Mine mind had been filled hot helium,
A gas hovering above sound advice.
Perhaps I deserve leaking emissions
To deflate mine ego's poor decisions.
Perhaps as a floating, feral balloon,
I had embroached upon flight far too soon.
Regardless of mine fool-hardy actions
And flighty dreams of ignoble fancy,
Am I not worthy of benignancy?
Why must mine light air split in diffraction,
Scattering by thy sharp criticism?
Can I not have gentle mysticism?
poem by Tim Stensloff

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It Takes One To Know One's Love
It takes one to know one's love!
So enduring,
So lovely;
And, we are who we love on this earth.
It takes one to know one's love!
So enduring,
So lovely;
And, you are what you eat on this earth.
Please, pleased!
So enduring,
So lovely;
And, you will always stay in my heart.
Cloak, oak, soak, croak;
Block, lock, dock, mock, cock, rock!
However, it takes one to know one's love.
So enduring,
So lovely! !
Bock, pock, clock, hock, knock, stock;
But, it takes one to know one's love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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To The Culpable String
Sinking in this quagmire
like a strip of flesh
grinding inside
a quicksand of tarmac;
brambly and turbulent
your eyes - staring like
luminescent stars
descried my wallowing
in the black ribbon
of taut despondence
from the serrated fragments
lying on the floor
You unmade a tragedy
and recounted a tale
in stale slivers
cutting the fingers
with no urgency
not even a clue
hovering the soul
You improvised
a lustrous sheen
for my lackluster
and in the midst
of wanton catastrophe -
these vulpine hunters
and vulturine hungers
a madhouse
of sticks and bones
I do not know how
to repay your light
instilled inside
this eternal night
Thank you
for your generosity
and your luminosity
and for flaying
with the whims
of a hyena mocking
a golden lion
still and silent
as gold itself
poem by Norman Santos

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Oh Who Is That Young Sinner
Oh who is that young sinner with the handcuffs on his wrists?
And what has he been after that they groan and shake their fists?
And wherefore is he wearing such a conscience-stricken air?
Oh they're taking him to prison for the color of his hair.
'Tis a shame to human nature, such a head of hair as his;
In the good old time 'twas hanging for the color that it is;
Though hanging isn't bad enough and flaying would be fair
For the nameless and abominable color of his hair.
Oh a deal of pains he's taken and a pretty price he's paid
To hide his poll or dye it of a mentionable shade;
But they've pulled the beggar's hat off for the world to see and stare,
And they're taking him to justice for the color of his hair.
Now 'tis oakum for his fingers and the treadmill for his feet,
And the quarry-gang on Portland in the cold and in the heat,
And between his spells of labor in the time he has to spare
He can curse the God that made him for the color of his hair.
poem by Alfred Edward Housman

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Sunset Pedagogies II
The scripts that built bridges toppled
Into the famished and oceanic mouth
Where every sunset soused its itching
I searched inside every vacant room
And marauded transparent dooms
Where I may find you flaying colors
Or flitting among flared starlights
All these corridors stood in the semblance
Of your open palms, echoing your psalms
To steer my feet into the end
Of this labyrinthine pondering
And self-pitying and destructing
And in my hopefulness I nearly forgot
The boudoir of yellow petals that was cloyed
By crimson laces and fervent kisses
Is taken to an odyssey by an exonerated sea
And the lighthouse remained unlighted
So in this labyrinth I tried to find
My own room instead and tried
To find my sleep, my lullaby
Without your affable camaraderie
Basking in a brazen sunset
To let go of the brambly bouquet
And be the departing phantoms
That I mused and confounded.
poem by Norman Santos

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The Gallery
When I first saw your gallery
I liked the ones of ladies
Then you began to hang up me
You studied to portray me
In ice and greens
And old blue jeans
And naked in the roses
Then you got into funny scenes
That all your work discloses
Lady, dont love me now I am dead
I am a saint, turn down your bed
I have no heart, thats what you said
You said, I can be cruel
But let me be gentle with you
Somewhere in a magazine
I found a page about you
I see that now its josephine
Who cannot be without you
I keep your house in fit repair
I dust the portraits daily
Your mail comes here from everywhere
The writing looks like ladies
Lady, please love me now, I am dead
I am a saint, turn down your bed
I have no heart, thats what you said
You said, I can be cruel
But let me be gentle with you
I gave you all my pretty years
Then we began to weather
And I was left to winter here
While you went west for pleasure
And now youre flying bock this way
Like some lost homing pigeon
Theyve monitored your brain, you say
And changed you with religion
Lady, please love me now I was dead
I am no saint, turn down your bed
Lady, have you no heart, thats what you said
Well, I can be cruel
But let me be gentle with you
When I first saw your gallery
I liked the ones of ladies
But now their faces follow me
And all their eyes look shady
song performed by by Joni Mitchell

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Will Rise Again
Words and music: todd carney taylor rhodes
Youve been hurt and left for dead
Shot from the saddle
And your heart, its been cut and bled
Run from the bottle
Youve been shattered, battered, youve had it rough
But never, ever, never give up
Cause love will rise, love will rise
Love will rise again
Youve got to fight like a true survivor
Love will rise again
Up from the ashes
Love will rise again... and again
You better run and hide away
Lost in the shadows
Youre alone, you wear the pain
Just like a medal
Youve been shot down, brought down
Youve had it rough
But never, ever, never give up
Cause love will rise, love will rise
Love will rise again
Youve got to fight like a true survivor
Love will rise again
Up from the ashes
Love will rise again...and again
Believe me I know where youve been
I used to be one of the wounded
Theres something your heart cant defend
Im bock on my feet, I come back alive
Stand up and fight, never say die
Up from the ashes, love will rise
Love will rise again
Youve got to fight like a true survivor
Love will rise again
Up from the ashes
Love will rise
Love will rise again
Love will rise again
Love will rise again
Yeah, yeah
song performed by by Loverboy

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sideline (2nd revision)
Though the river of time stopped
flowing for me I cannot leave the
water as yet - no flow or progress
possible sinking lower into depths
where coral is deep red the sun a
far-off blur and sea-creatures flee
these flaying legs
Discomforting calm weighs wet on
eardrums in an unheeded descent
leaving disconnected others forking
into parallel space - alone in a cable
bundling time into tarred blackness
bells declaring Atlantis’ last hours
ringing in my head
The great city sank beneath waves
hidden forever from earth life and
sunlight - an immobile island of mist-
shrouded legends told in a story
resembling life woven by small
minds folding and bending
infinite timelines together
While I am shunted out of existence
stranded on a sideline sharing no joys
of desire or accomplished fulfilment
keeping hope time-frozen inside me
a magical talisman to light my eyes
as I wait for the return of meaning
and sound…
poem by Margaret Alice Second

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Walking On Fire
Words and music: taylor rhodes, todd carney paul dean
I cant stop when youre smokin in the third degree
A dead shot, she takes aim and now Im history
Right on the money, make no mistake
She can sting you like a rattlesnake
Red hot, she redefines the word fantasy
A hurricane, a heart attack, a tidal wave that you cant
Hold back
Im walkin, Im walkin on fire
Wolkin, Im walkin on fire, Im taking my turn
Im burnin (burnin), Im burnin, when the lightning strikes
Im walkin on fire
Green light, theres no stopping when the word is go
Fahrenheit, one on one, and now Im ready to blow
Relieve the pressure, works like a charm,
She got me ringin like a three-alarm
Stage fright, she got me shaking like a tremolo
A hurricane, a heart attack, a tidal wave that you cant
Hold bock
Im walkin, Im walkin on fire
Walkin, walkin on fire, Im taking my turn
Im burnin, (burnin), Im burnin, when the lightning strikes
Im walkin on fire
A hurricane, a heart attack, a tidal wove that you cant
Hold back
Im walkin, Im walkin on fire
Walkin, walkin on fire, oh yeah
Im walkin, walkin on fire
Im walkin, walkin on fire, Im taking my turn
Im burnin, (burnin), Im burnin, when the lightning strikes
Im walkin on fire
song performed by by Loverboy

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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L'Escargot D'Or
O Tavern of the Golden Snail!
Ten sous have I, so I'll regale;
Ten sous your amber brew to sip
(Eight for the bock and two the tip),
And so I'll sit the evening long,
And smoke my pipe and watch the throng,
The giddy crowd that drains and drinks,
I'll watch it quiet as a sphinx;
And who among them all shall buy
For ten poor sous such joy as I?
As I who, snugly tucked away,
Look on it all as on a play,
A frolic scene of love and fun,
To please an audience of One.
O Tavern of the Golden Snail!
You've stuff indeed for many a tale.
All eyes, all ears, I nothing miss:
Two lovers lean to clasp and kiss;
The merry students sing and shout,
The nimble garcons dart about;
Lo! here come Mimi and Musette
With: "S'il vous plait, une cigarette?"
Marcel and Rudolf, Shaunard too,
Behold the old rapscallion crew,
With flowing tie and shaggy head . . .
Who says Bohemia is dead?
Oh shades of Murger! prank and clown,
And I will watch and write it down.
O Tavern of the Golden Snail!
What crackling throats have gulped your ale!
What sons of Fame from far and near
Have glowed and mellowed in your cheer!
Within this corner where I sit
Banville and Coppée clashed their wit;
And hither too, to dream and drain,
And drown despair, came poor Verlaine.
Here Wilde would talk and Synge would muse,
Maybe like me with just ten sous.
Ah! one is lucky, is one not?
With ghosts so rare to drain a pot!
So may your custom never fail,
O Tavern of the Golden Snail!
poem by Robert William Service

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