Category: Uncategorized

All along the watershed
Salmonid travel to homestream
They got the magnetite, crystals
to spawn the next gen; rest in peace

Coho, Cutthroat, Steelhead, Sockey
Chinook, Pink and Chum alike
The salmon of the pacific
wish they could teach me how to swim

micro!
-scopic magnetoreceptors
magnetite!
the dyad of Earth is in their
micro!
-scopic magnetoreceptors
like a compass!
hypothesis of electric feel.

Time to sumarize!

Earth’s magnetic field:
spatial scales
little is known
Among growing evidence,
physical magnetic sense
crystals of the mineral magnetite?
juvenile O. tshawytscha
altering dipole moment
pulsed fish vs control fish
coil system, two conditions:

local vs southern
local: no sig. diff.
southern: diff.
consistent with
the hypothesis:
magnetite-based magnetoreception

beware if you make the mistake of reading my verses—
they will lure you innocently in
with all sorts of lavish language

this will soften you
cause your heart’s door to creak open
at first just a crack

then i’ll toss in that one perfectly-placed word
the one that tastes like the best chocolate memory
from your childhood

it might evoke that song about sunshine
or the soft rub of a dry towel
after a dip in the lake

it could be the intoxication of your first corn roast
or that sound of the large waterfall
that woke up your soul

you won’t even realize
how wide your heart-door has now opened
your mind won’t have time to readjust its armor

because i will manipulate you back to that exact moment
when you thought you needed to stay meek
to duck the world’s endless punches

then i’ll paraphrase how the earth is running a temperature
in a way that blows your heart-door off its hinges
i apologize for this

not for the primal discomfort
but for the thrust of that tearful ache
you have no choice but to wield like your private sword

against those misguided and smug sleepwalkers
who know not the nature of that sacred ground
upon which they so cold-heartedly step

that same ground
whose very dna has formed
their every cell

that same ground
whose silent tiny screams beg them
to stop stepping on themselves

banyan trees crawl free.
setting roots in fertile ground,
secrets deep within.

the banyan stands proud,
shaped by strong winds – life’s trials.
growing far and wide.

secrets intertwined,
tangled in roots’ strong embrace,
unfazed by the past.

THIS IS TERRIBLE!!!! :-(((( this is crazy – these degenerative neighbors from the
adjacent apartments to mine in the building where I live here in Krivoy Rog city in
Ukraine, 50076 (at 14 Korneychuka str., first entrance of the building) keep riding
elevator (LIFT) up and down from the early morning till evening every day every 5 min,
such that these freaking elevator (LIFT) create horrible noise inside of my apartment at
a level of 300 Hz, sounds as if in the bell tower – bommm, bommm….terrible!!!!!! :-
((((( my head is about to EXPLODE from that noise from the elevator (LIFT)!!!!!!
terrible!!!! …. those idiots are freaking FASCISTS!!!!! :-(((( I hope these freaks idiots will
DIE SOON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the other idiots neighbors keep chanting and repeating in English the phrase “fuck you”,
“fuck you so-so” every 2 seconds at a level of 3000 Hz – freaking ventriloquists!!!!:-
(((……these degenerates keep repeating the phrase “fuck you” every day and every
night!!!!! horrible!!!!
it’s impossible to calmly stay, live or even sleep inside of my apartment!!!!! :-((((
some MANIACS keep constantly stalking and following me on the streets of the city and
next to my residential building in Krivoy Rog!!! Horrible shit!!!! ;-(((
Some idiotic people in the cars wait until I approach my residential building and then
they follow me!!! Terrible!! I hope these FREAKS will DIE like idiotic RATS!!!!!

these people are MAD aggressive dangerous terrorists!!!! They MUST DIE SOON!!!!!!!

I hope these freaking IDIOTS will DIE like freaking MAD DOGS !!!!!:-(((((

terrible!!!!!

Narrated by Val Cole

POEM:

I hate that I am gaining so much weight,
It’s feeling like I’m losing my grip on fate,
As here and there, I await and debate,
How to turn back learned time.
I need to not burn my rhymes,
Except in my readers minds.
I feel blind and signed,
My fine health away,
Today and every day,
I must realign my mayday to bind,
And reassign my twines of long lines.
But hey, at least I am not confined,
Like a steak, wide eyed and cooked.
Like looked on with a little wine,
Similar to a well-read book.

Narrated by Val Cole

READ POEM:

Cold unconscious metal
Reflective concentration
Carefully cloned contortions
Cast in curves of concave
Full length spying steelfaces
Hung in private parlours
Viewing fornication
Convex copulation
Such vivid observation
For one so unalive.

Narrated by Val Cole

POEM:

Once there was a woman in the night forest
who could hear above the register of most.
She would listen to mice sing in chorus
or coyotes comfort their young
over the flash and rumble of coming weather.

There was the night when I stayed in the garden
late into the hours and you called for me
and together we watched the gods
toss stars across the sky and later
we returned to our bed and I watched you
over the vastness of our pillows
as your breathing fell into a rhythm
and you separated from me.

Have your dreams returned you to a wooded place,
dusted in moonlight, where you keen your ears
to other selves, selves beyond the register of my knowing?

Narrated by Val Cole

POEM:

Silk tangerine sheets dance melodically
as reflections of the sultry moon, gleams
through the lofts balcony, under-shadowed
by the soft lip presses of two sexually stressed humans
pressed against their saturated melaninated skin
pressing old buttons during the practice of procreation
sifting out past lumps and bruised egos for a smooth
path for the new year and new beginnings
with old issues and reforming lumps

bedridden from the magical experience for one
the other has things come to light as the sunrise
pries over the ice capped mountains and through
to her heart realizing she wanted his warmth
and company to bring in the new year and nothing else
she grips her amethyst crystal necklace, pressing a final kiss
upon his innocent forehead, pissed as she strolls toward
the empty parking garage, under-sized heels in hand
she stands waiting for her ride home, lonely

he wakes up and places his warm hand on the cold
form left in his bed, her scent is still fresh
he plans to wash her from his memory for good
a magenta lipstick message on his mirror startles
“DON’T PLAY WHAT’S THERE,
PLAY WHAT’S NOT THERE”
he grabs his Kind of Blue album she gifted him
the Mary Jane provides company as tears cut
through the smoke, listening to “Blue in Green”
he visualizes her amethyst crystal from the
purple haze, lonely days commence again
but he reluctantly says “So What” as the street
orchestra plays in the background of his pain
like a Spike Lee Joint

they will meet between the sheets
on a future new years day
‘Round Midnight

Narrated by Val Cole

POEM:

I hate when cannibalism is used as a metaphor for love.
I think love is a form of devotion which does not include devouring. Maybe
hunger and
sometimes bruises or
sunburns
but never devouring.

I wrote in a poem once that I am a liar at the best of times.

I hate when cannibalism is used as a metaphor for love
except maybe I get it.
I wake up
wanting,
wishing,
that she’d cut her fingers on my teeth.
Hoping she’d force me
to gag
on her blood, to drink from her
like a
deranged marionette she controls.
I watch her talk and decide I want to kiss her
until her lips bleed,
a sorry excuse for Ruby Woo,
smearing across her pretty face
until she looks less like my love
and more like my victim.
She would taste like iron and honeysuckle
sweet bitter love blood liquor
and I would be drunk on it.

I want to leave handprint-bruises on her hips
leave my mark in any way I can and hope
she bites my tongue and we bleed—
into each other, not on each other
and there is a difference.
Is it cannibalism?
All I want
is for her to become my lover.

Narrated by Val Cole

POEM:

My love, I was just praying when the Holy Spirit put you in my mind; did I ever tell you that you are stupid fine!?

I was envisioning us playing in the snow, please my love; don’t forget to bring that special glow!

We would now have snowball fights, but I promise not to aim at your Spirit -filled eyes!

We would now slide down the hill in our sled, we would pretend it to be our bed!

You begin to get cold, so we start to go home,

Our apartment is intermate and warm, I would now close the door and score!

Mrs.Q, you do know this is for you right?