Some sound advice.
With friends at the bridge (NH)
Happy National Poetry Month! To kick it off, we’re celebrating some younger poets who are making moves where most of us haven’t yet.
The youth is critical. They are the next step, our successors. One over arching focus, with all my literary projects, is to promote to the youth, my peers.
I graduated High School the spring of 2013. I spent that time cutting…
Review of I Want to Youtube down the Rivers of America by Beach Sloth
It’s a challenge to write positively, to put the old stereotypes away and slander the Hemingway traditions, but Beach Sloth accepts that challenge, and probably doesn’t give a shit what you think.
Let’s get lost in 100 acre wood
and make love without touching each other but touching ourselves in front of each other and staring with such lust it nakeds trees and forces the Catholics of the world to exile us into pre-mature damnation
It feels like pre-mature ejaculation
and then shoving…
How high are the wolves?
"YOU HAVE TWO FUCKING OPTIONS KID
AND IF YOU HESITATE ILL PUT ONE BULLET IN HER ASS
BREAK HER FINGERS BLOODY
SHOOT YOUR BALLSAK
YING YANG YOUR BODIES
THEN STOMP YOU BOTH DEAD
Here are your options.”
The thought tosses me a gun.
or I shoot Her.”
The wolves are stoned.Source: jeremiahwaltonpoetry
Magic Math: Felino A. Soriano’s “Mathematics”
by Alison Ross
As an academic subject, mathematics both intrigues and terrifies me. In school I was beyond awful in it, and most likely suffered from dyscalculia. I am still math illiterate, but the difference now is that I appreciate math – its multi-foliate mysteries are no longer anathema to me so much as a beautiful enigma that slips through the…
There’s a poem in pretend guns
their bullet casings written upon in childish scribbles of imagination
the firing range is infinite
Waiting on a lover’s letter in purgatory between yes and no,
and sparkles of maybe-sunrise.
Some blood rain will never wash away
I kiss pencils in the morningThe ashes rainbow in anticipation. previously published in The Rainbow Journal
and begin burning them Dawn.
Declare imagination independent
scare the chickensouls
Songs of Walmart
once more sung
Chicago’s envious woman with guns sing
Hang blankets over the van’s windows
I was distracted
remiscining Buffalo &
dropping the dollar.
I have strong enough jaws.
I can chew.
I know we’re made for each other. I’ve unEarthed faith
Depression is a crumpled piece of paper
origami smiles unfold real.
Communication is a highway
lane by lane.
Howl for Howl
and you’ll find me under the sheets
a moving castle
to produce poetry
& the oddest love notes.
Depression is a crumpled piece of paper,
origami smiles unfold realSource: jeremiahwaltonpoetry
Our first date was stolen cheese cake in a walmart.
Picked up terrified poet is Brattleboro
Poet acts asinine
dumped in Erie.
I’m sorting my shit out
and will be back August 1st.
I hope to make love with you without touching again.
Bubble bath cuddling
knife tongue fights.
But you I will…
First we read the poem, and then follow this with analysis and a cultural rant tinted with love.
The Pennycandystore Beyond The El
by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
The pennycandystore beyond the El
is where i first
fell in love
Jellybeans glowed in the semi-gloom
of that September afternoon
A cat upon the counter moved among
the licorice sticks
and tootsie rolls
and Oh Boy Gum
Performing Poem & Poet at Poets’ House in Erie, P.A.
Getting lost in conversation is easy
Sentences are labyrinths
The minotaur composed of ignorance
voice is sacrifice.
POET, CEASE WRITING!
Why do you speak flowers?
Communicate with natural flow.
What does your sacrifice sound like?
How do you sound stripped of metaphor?
POET! ARE YOU PAYING…