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Three Poems by Wayne Mason

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Three Poems

by

Wayne Mason

wayne

Bio: Wayne Mason is a writer and sound artist from Central Florida. His words have appeared across the small press in magazines both print and online. He is the author of five chapbooks. and is the former poetry editor for Side Of Grits, and The Tampa Bay Muse. Wayne Mason has also been active in experimental music for nearly twenty years. He records ambient, experimental and noise sounds, formerly under the name of Zilbread, and is also a founding member of the experimental/noise project Stickfigure and electronic duo Blk/Mas. http://brokenzen.wordpress.com/

Poetic Statement:When I was much younger I aspired to change the world. Now years later, my work stems from a desire to change myself by exploring my own internalterrain. In the end the strangest, most profound journey is not the one outward, but the one inward through my own psychic landscapes.

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Three Poems by Frankie Metro

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Three Poems

by

Frankie Metro

 

-Real Pagans Drink Blood-

Pianos made for dragons are pushed
into the crevices of their hearts,
in places where music doesn’t exist,
bare, prone and pungent
like a piss-stained mattress on
the best friend’s floor.

They dream of a pianist career
w/o fingers,
impossible and daring
a 3rd (& fervently dissociative) party
rattled by the bleak standards of a 2 party system
often find themselves in the company of
those willing to question which endeavor
is higher and best suited,

chase down the avenging spirit?

or

wrestle the diluted dream into submission?

werewolves on the prowl
in darkstar nebulae,
violinists w/ bionic attachments,
eventually a pattern erupts
& it all leads to jungles
in full moon pitch & high strung
engagements w/ Morse enemies
wearing bridal gowns & a ring
of upheaval that holds their full
attention/dedication.

 -Polyester Grift-

 The midnight stumbler

is grifted by locusts in

detective coats/monocles cuz they’re

winged scrutinizers who

can really stomach all the clues.

 

But he’s not too naïve

that he misinterprets their deliberations

for the sound of palmetto bugs

flying in the dark

and even though he can’t really

call this night a win per se

it’s a hard one to chock up to a total loss.

 

The pair of knuckles in

his polyester pants are made

from brass and dragon teeth.

Everything feels justifiable/within bounds

Ideas of self defense leading to Homicide aren’t necessarily unappealing.

A rat lives another quarter of a decade

inside the walls of an AIDS house w/ green energy

powered utilities.

 

The broken glass in the parking lot doesn’t make it

into the heel of his polyester Vans.

It’s not a TOTALOSS.

 

& when the sun comes up,

all the dismay bleeds off like a cherry popsicle

on a hot sidewalk. Everything’s got possibilities to

turnitallaround.

 

He keeps stumbling,

carrying an empty Mason jar of something dark & rich

like virgin punk blood.

A real pagan on holiday, the reaper

Ignoring locust theories &

palmetto songs heard exclusively in notes of pianissimo.

  Basquiat Wannabes w/ I.E.D

winning staredowns w/ Cooper’s Hawks perched on chain-link fences in need of repair just as bad as the park itself,

ripped apart by monsoon storms that soak to bone like baptismal water or motherblood,

running away from unfit challenges & lightning bolts in the eyes of predator,

hand mirror stand offs made square on the

edge of a hairpin inevitably play out between men of similar/unequal understanding.

Stringing all those crypto-maxims together w/ a chip on your shoulder that feels like a bulbous clot and having tunnel vision ahead of mowed grass is convincing enough.

It’s a prominent argument to be self-reliant when you can only see what’s in front of you, that moments where vigilance falters, someone’s ready to cut down your neat,

 

unilateral visions of what is achievable in a codependent world where nothing out-rightly expressed or offered is genuine and w/o consequences.

What a fuct way of coming to some grandiose & ill-formed conclusions about the people around you, the people ‘willing to lend a hand’.

You build mantras and weigh daily affirmations around your exposure to stressful situations, against the fact that Cooper’s hawks aren’t passive aggressive, the monsoon season isn’t passive aggressive,

predators, hand mirrors & hairpins are not passive aggressive. But you’re not an elemental reaction to hot air or a hunter with the nerve.

You’re used to avoiding direct confrontation,

so you relate more with the broken fences, you’re ripped apart on a regular basis, you’re very used to running away from perceptibly insurmountable challenges, shying away from standoffs w/ crypto-delusions in the mirror.

 

Do. Not. Fall victim. To self righteousness, to fear, to apathy as a result of bearing down/trudging through. Slink back into the earth like something coiled w/ venomous teeth when the blood is cold. Be brazen and unassuming in matters of wisdom, stretch yourself against Cooper’s neck and stop fucking running.

 

Let yourself fall prey to being

carried off by a purpose bigger than yourself.

 

Bio: Frankie Metro is 1 slice of the pie and co-founder of Kleft Jaw Press, which celebrates transcendental realism (a fancy way of saying we like to put stuffed baby bears in t-shirts with the sleeves cut off and read poems in front of it.)

Poetic Statement: Transcendental realism is the equivalent of butchering your grandfather’s WW2 notebooks, but throwing a party for him afterwards, which includes every Decepticon you could possibly conceive, wearing baker hats and grilling your sensibilities/conventions with a fire that is only stoked by your capacity to see past moral ambiguity.

Three Poems by JD Brayton

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Three Poems

by

JD Brayton

 

Zen Snowcone

Kite flying in an arctic gale.

The Moon is a Hoax.

Truth a Trope.

Sentient Sneezing.

A mistake dangling

accidentally

Out of God’s nostril.

(here’s a whisper from the Buddha)

Fuck The Man

For He Is Wise

In Giving His Cash

To Sleeping Artists.

FELLOW CHAMPION

POWER CORRUPTS, OR IS IT THE

STRENGTH OF ONE TRILLION SUNS

AND LETTERS TO THE INSANE

YOU CAN’T CALL IT CANDY

OR ROSES FOR THE QUEEN MOTHER

IT’S SIMPLY THE SCENE YOU PAINTED

LIKE TEMPRA PILLBOX SUNSET SPEARS

USE THE PAWNS LIKE PICKETS ON A FENCE

KEEP THEIR EYES WIDE OPEN AND LEARN THEIR NAMES

LAMBS WHO EAT IVY SURELY WILL DIE

BUT ONLY AFTER A SECOND TRY

IT IS HUMAN NATURE, THIS WILL IN BATTLE

THEY SHOUT FROM ONE MILLION ANGRY THROATS

AND POINT TOWARD THE ARMOR SHIMMERS

WHISPERING JEALOUS POEMS

TO ARMS ALONE

WHO NEEDS AN ARMY?

THE UNISON SOUND BREAKS QUIETLY

TOWARDS THE FRONTIERS OF DELUSION

THERE WAS NO BATTLE

THERE IS NO FOE

YOU TASTE BLOOD BECAUSE

YOU BIT YOUR LIP

 

Chimera Bombinians In Vacuo

ssss-ssss-ssss-sss
Wring my wait
Standing pandering fool
A wrung Chimera aside.
Unscathed.
Unscaled.
Or a mountain of blue un re-totemstone
Blue luster cast bleeding
Cracked grey lids for seeing
Lips in favored breathing night…night
Old tasted..tasting
Crazily (ME)-bite
Crazily (ME)-bite

Here’s a callous rubberstone
Bouncing, prancing, chewedly bone
Glissading dogmouth kites
“ Ah, Youth! You glide like God-Dog water.!”
(I’ve watched from my perch..)
Yes. I’ve sat and set
Drooling petrified
Down
In
Ice.

Down in silver trails unheat
Spattering cowbones at my feet
I eat more stone in hand
I smell beauty
Assuredly( ME )-seat
Assuredly (ME )-seat

“ The Chimera has a riddle, soft man..
~young             *              man~
who scars stone in a moaning sun?”

ssss-ssss-ssss-ssss

My poetic statement- has to reside with the words committed to blank pages. Though it may, (at times), seem so -these poems are not limned in blood. Racing thoughts and automatic writing are the stuff of whispering ghosts. And I’ll be damned if I don’t listen between candybars.  Pass the salt and it had better be worth it, pilgrim.

Faith may be primitive, but it’s the rarest tribe I know.

Bio- J.D. Brayton is an artist and musician who can, as if by magic , transmogrify poetry into lyrics, lyrics into short stories, short stories into novels, and novels into guaranteed poverty.

The Poetics of Immersion

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Immersion Poetry

The Poetics of Immersion

out(be)come

be(in)ginnings

Sentiment and Sensibility

 by Kenyatta Jean-Paul Garcia

Withinside of experience is poetics

an unhidden poetry runs its course through occurrences

a further unhidden poetry has been handed down and lived in for centuries in myth, fable, folklore, philosophy, religion, worldview, and other notions often marked as ‘culture’

images have existed

images exist

images created are tangled with past images

ideas are images to be

images are ideas had

images are ideas being had

the image and idea (of the image) is the center of the poem

even when the poem has no center or focus, the image/idea is

a direction of a poem is an image

a whole piece can turn on a preposition

into (for example) is an image/idea immersed into the wordery of the poem

the wordery is the added imagery of words surrounding the essential image

a room described is often done so just to place in or out of it the agent or patient of the lines

….

a poem finds its place immersed into other poetry at all points

no words exist alone

there is no alone with words

a single word is a combination of concepts, idea, and (what) sensiment imag(in)es

sense is a two-way conduit for sentiment

sensiment(al) is the poet’s stock of ingredients, materials, detritus, etc for poetry

sensiment is found art

sensiment is art forced upon artist via life and the image/idea occurring and being processed

….

the poem occurs within the overall web of poetics/wordery/sensiment

poem as written/being written is an act of immersion (at times invasion)

poem inserts into web of myth and history and truth and wish and current events and the POP

the pop the today’s need for myth with truth being subjected to wish

….

the poem once inserted into the umbrella of wordery undergoes the next step which is to be immersed into the reader

the reader more properly defined is the perceiver of poetry

the perceiver once in contact with the poem is in the poem is withinside the occurrence of the piece

minimalism, distillation and small vocabulary further allow for an enmeshment with the poem once the perceiver is immersed in the poem

the poem immersed in the experience of the perceiver

….

immersion poetry is NOT conceptual poetry

concept is but an aspect of/step towards idea

immersion poetry is not found poetry

all poetry is found in the cosmic and psychic language of the real and irreal/subjunctive worlds

possibility is its own myth

wish is a pantheon governing the will

….

immersion poetry enters this world wrapped in other wordery

it comes through and with all art and all pop

it comes with myth attached

it comes via quote via reference naked but for the air it has relationship with

it comes knowing it itself is at times nothing  other than a paraphrase a para-image para-idea

it gives room for continuation

for communion

it gives

it is conversation

it hears

poems hear

it is called to respond

it responds to call

it calls for response

respond and correspond is immersion

….

it does by being allowed to do

to do is to be received

perception is reception where poetry is concerned

where poetry has flourished in its immersion

as but a petal coming from and returning to a mythic center

Approaches to Another Narrative

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APPROACHES TO LONG POEMS OF THIS NARRATIVE

by Kenyatta Jean-Paul Garcia

and

Anna Elena Eyre

  • Although temporal this narrative is non-chronological, non-hierarchical and non-linear and more akin to that of a spiral with layered complexity as well as the backward, forward and present trajectories of moment(s).
  • The idea of the image of an occurrence is the motive for this narrative and the motivation for readers to enter into the story as well as to have the story enter into them.
  • This narrative emphasizes transition/attention/relation not action/conflict/heroism.
  • This narrative is no longer storytelling, it is story-talking.
  • This narrative is highly interpretative on behalf of the reader because of authorial choices.
  • In this narrative the reader in some ways becomes the writer because the text requires participation to be determined.  It is because of participation that we can locate and re-create a poetic tradition that requires personal enactment.
  • This narrative engages delimited and ultra-discursive identity, naming, setting, plot and experiences.
  • This narrative wishes to escape the literary narrative (resolution, coda, evaluation and exposition) to bring about a linguistic narrative (intuitive temporal sequencing, displacement, coordinate clauses, orientation complication, and an abstracted exposition).
  • This narrative is primarily textual and utilizes translation of oral poetic strategies including: patterns of recurrences; morphology; deixis; pitch; juxtaposition; minimal vocabulary; variation; improvisation; rhyming that can be but does not necessarily have to be sounded but rather based in associative resonances; as well as rhyming that is unpredictable and spontaneous.
  • This narrative is a mirror or window that has been shattered but each shard is a piece of and offers another jagged perspective of the whole that is necessarily indefinite.
  • This narrative explores othering, exile, hybridism and errantry.
  • Voice is key to this narrative.

Open Call for Writing

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Critics, theorists, linguists, translators, poets, teachers and students,  Altpoetics is calling for all those bits of poetic musings which tend to have no place on poetry blogs or in the vast amount of poetry journals/zines.

Altpoetics is looking for manifestos, mission statements, process pieces and any theory on poetics/poetry, language and translation.   This is the place to voice all those odd and innovative ideas about writing.  This site can also be a place to dig into older theories (as new tends to sprout from old) but really, there’s no need to continue to sing the praises of decades old manifestos.  Let this be the place to voice your own ideas. The future is yours to create.

Altpoetics isvery interested in writing as a response to other writing/writers.  Letters to the past and poems re-visioned/re-imaged are also of great interest.

Altpoetics is also looking for slipstream work -writing which shows innovation or a new/different approach.   Altpoetics is especially desirous of work which pushes the limits of the lyrical narrative.

Please send 2000 words or less in a .doc attachment to altpoetics@gmail.com.  (Previously published material is welcome.)  Also, please title the piece and send a short bio within the attachment.  And, a cover letter is appreciated.