Daily Archives: March 27, 2017

Uranium Bullets

Maria Stadnicka

I always arrive late for everything.

Stuck in a traffic jam by the docks,

missed Noah’s boat but

survived under water

accidentally trapped between stolen books,

trapped by a word heavier than a stone,

lighter than a feather.

Hidden in the overcrowded wooden train carriage,

radicalised by the anonymity of my blue name-tag,

with a heart growing outside my body.

Each beat painfully visible to the guards

around the Monopoly table.

On the waiting list for ballet lessons,

radicalised by the price of uranium bullets on Mother’s Day

handwriting an apologetic note.

My deep eye silenced.

The familiar solemnity of a world without a face.

Photograph: @John Stadnicki, Bristol MMXVI

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.division. by Sonja Benskin Mesher

I am not a silent poet

numbers came suddenly, soon after one. nothing added any more, all began to subtract, divide, the result algebraic there are no rulers, lines to divide, the total is irrelevant now, the addition foremost. i have been to the counting.

initially, crossed the  sea to the land, from one to another, then, talking. crossed the narrow bridge spoke of the past, you know what i mean.                                                                       courage to walk

away.

a book about death. 14.

division

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.mathematics. by Sonja Benskin Mesher

I am not a silent poet

irregular, you came, your best clothes shining.   never mind. the first tune hit the mind, patterns and mathematics.   the kindness that is.

 

he said. machine you see.   glass reflecting.            slowly it starts repeating.   the walls of differing colours.  we have the dvds.                                          on and on repeating on and on repeating on and on repeating.

 

back to the counting, how many have there been, how many are left still standing. an issue for some, yet we  amend the figures here and move on. lucky ones,            maths divides and decimates others.

 

1.2

 

repeating.

maths

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. next wednesday 29 . by Sonja Benskin Mesher

I am not a silent poet

speech.

simple notes, there is much discussion now, where the place used to be pure quiet and  acceptance.

it seems to him that talking does not get the job done.                 gently balancing wool.  words  fall .

we had gathered here before to watch the weathering.     referendum come and gone with fury.

speech

fails us.

simple notes. none rise higher than the one next.

to you, to me, this may not be

the acceptance

expected.

Wednesday

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.nothing found this time. by Sonja Benskin Mesher

the curly mind linguistically innovative poetry - weird & risky

they may not like a controversal opinion, so cross it out in black.

i think that red may hit the mark better if there was a facility we

we used to amuse, may be delight, then it was censored. banned

to the bin.

quiet now, you will not hear any controversy, you may only read it

here.

cancelled my apprenticeship

neatly.

there.

nothing found

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from ‘echonone’ by Michael Mc Aloran

the curly mind linguistically innovative poetry - weird & risky

(.what resonates is the sound of zero cracking apart.)
..
(…of the no nothing of/ unspoken of through which or/ no not of a/ of the eye no merely nullified/ unto erased through procession bled/ closed in upon as if it/ in stagnate of/ asks of the nothing more/ no nothing more of/ no not following on from ever-nothing ever of/ solace forgotten in ashen cast upon bankrupt earth design/ a sky rendered absent of colourings/ yet settlement of/ through black light sharp discard of all unto hollow in or on or from/ the acrid reek of the un-saying/ dreamed thin/ exposed…)
..
(…no not of/ of the no further ever asking of/ other than as if it/ voice what voice/ no nothing of a/ if/ nothing of/ extinguished eye obsolete/ as if to have ever-having other than/ blind witnessed blinded other than/ in/ of/ another/ another/ as…

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