Apotheosis - The Journal of the Poetic Genius Society







	JAN / FEB 2004

TABLE OF CONTENTS - POETRY, page 2

Haiku On The Spot - A. J. Nordström
Reclamation of Honest Youth - Matthew Rees
Remora - Kay Lindgren
Cut - Michael Zerger
Once, Long Ago Matthew Rees
Something - Paul Nachbar
Sweet Dream - Ed Glomski
I Was Only Dreaming - Ed Glomski
Littoral Haiku Kay Lindgren
A Nursery Game - Shisa Poet
Wahre Liebe oder: die Auster - Merlin Carl
La danza - Jorge González
Deep Down - Paul Nachbar
A Soldier's Grave Paul Nachbar
The Damaged Poem Paul Nachbar
Adiós - Jorge González
A Sailor's Death at Sea (WWII) * - ©Wallace Rhodes
It Goes On and On (for J.FF in NYC) Paul Nachbar
Too Late, Too Late: After E.A.Poe's The Raven - Paul Nachbar
Haiku - Paul Nachbar
Childlish Verse - Paul Nachbar
Forgive Us Please - Paul Nachbar
A Song of Lacking Creativity - Merlin Carl
Meteors Spewing - Kay Lindgren
S K I N D e e P - Thom G. Hadley

Haiku On The Spot - A. J. Nordström

Sitting on a stone
Waiting for the wind to turn
Turn to me alone

Don't know why I'm here
Don't know why it has to burn
Cold is crystal clear

Think I know it all
I still have a lot to learn
Fly fly fly, then fall

Reclamation of Honest Youth - Matthew Rees

Welcome, pain, approach my door.
I'd love to see your face once more.
Life, I see you've also come
o pose a greater conundrum.
While love, your sibling, comes as well
to grant relief from logic's hell.
Come inside, we'll dine tonight,
and tell our tales by fire light.
We'll talk of things, and share until
the sun shines through the window sill.
You're all my friends, of youthful days,
yet since we've gone our separate ways.
I've grown too cold of feeling late
and wish you all to inundate
my shell of calculatedness
with hate, compassion, fear and bliss.
I've traveled far, and massed such wealth,
as siphons off my mental health.
So take my things! Remove my skill!
Cast me round how you may will.
I would my mind and memories rend
to live my life a child again.

Remora - Kay Lindgren

My sole purpose
is to suck up
to big fish
and get a free ride.
Shark or porpoise -
it doesn't matter.
My unbruisable lips
form an O-shaped kiss
as I smack into the broad side
of my host. My mouth
is a superb suction cup.
I do not map the route.
I go the swimmer's way.
Like a pennant
tied to a car antenna,
I flap and flutter
as the big fish curves and swerves
along the uderwater route.
No fish can shake me off:
hanging on is what I do best.
I do not hinder.
I do not help.
I am an undistinguished guest
here only for the ride.
When I tire of travelling,
I kiss the big fish off
and hide in tangeled kelp,
waiting for another
to come my way.

Cut - Michael Zerger

I am cut.

As I roll back and up through the air I know it for a certainty
As my feet flail across the ceiling they don’t quite reach, I know it is so.
For the blade unbidden flew from faithless sheath even as I fly unbidden through air
The force that sent me reeling kept in spin with me in time
And the man who has so violently cast me askew has cast another violence beyond his ken.

I am cut

For I reached with out-stretched heart to retrieve an act yet undone
To fetch a whispered dart as yet unseen, as yet unstopped by any soul
Who now still unseeing, would never see again
And such soul as stops it, stops dart and breath
And now my hand has returned

I am cut

For as quickly flew the blade, my thought is quicker
Resolve forged in sweat near as hard as the steel
And my hand wraps a glittering light, hiding its illuminating flash
Revealing no blade, no thought, no future now uncertain
And I feel the rush of a deed well done, of a skill they did not see
And I feel with clarity the sharpness of deed and blade

I am certainly cut

And the sweat flows from my brow, for the room is hot
And my palms are moist, and there are drops on the floor
Sensei and sempai and I
Draped in the black clothes of our manner
Now gathered in peace apart from the fury
Not seeing those who came to see, nor even the pools about us

I am cut

And because a hundred of the unseeing are looking, I cannot.

Once, Long Ago – Matthew Rees

Once, long ago, you promised me through sacred tears of
youth, full of feeling and color, that you loved me so and could
never let me go. To have found one another, in all the world,
through all the chance, could it be anything but fate?
"Not fate," said I, for I was no predeterminist. I said I
didn't believe things had aligned so we could meet. How petty an
end `twould be to which the cosmos ought not expend their energies.
But it came to me, gradually, how could this simply
be? `Tis too heavenly, too gracious and perfect to have an angel by
my side all the days of my life. Too unlikely fortunate a story. A
life of youth, of feeling, never-disappointed hope and the perfect
love of an angel reaching for me as strongly as I reach for her,
while our fingertips touch the magic of love and desire fluctuates
those borders of flesh and in rapture we join as one, truly not
lonely.
Until you tell me, through disappointment of your own,
yesterday, that you must move on to the next chapter in your
life. "But what of fate?" say I, despairing.
"Our love, oh yes `twas grand indeed, but now I feel it can
be no longer; `tis unfair to you, to me, and to my latest charge."
So she turns away to walk into her smiling sunrise, while I watch
the wings of her angelic figure slowly drift smaller and smaller
into the horizon, while I'm left, outrage a'burning, mouth agape,
tears a'flow and arms outstretched with now naught but empty air
between them.

Something - Paul Nachbar

There is something in man
That's not just bad
There is something in man
That's not just not mad
There is something in man
Which is quite sad
At things he's done
Or things he's had.

I did not say that he was good
I just think not entirely bad.
If anything spells "good" and "bad".
Oh answer that
Then I'll be glad.

You choose or not
To call this God
I won't debate this
Simply nod:.
Without this
He will act quite odd.

Sweet Dream - Ed Glomski

Down a shimmering sapphire stream
Lined with eucalyptus trees,
I floated in a perfect dream,
While drums and flutes played melodies,
Enchanting fancy dancers pranced,
Their rhythmic moves I did adore,
As they danced an entrancing dance
Along that luscious emerald shore.
Then I did face a perfect place,
Void of vice, a paradise,
Was what it was and more.

"Euphoria" was neatly etched,
And filled with a diamond inlay,
Upon an amber arch that stretched,
`Cross golden gilded gateway.
Then came Hellaina the enchantress,
An ambassador of goodness,
She greeted me with sweet caress,
A soothing touch she did possess,
Then hand-in-hand over silver sand,
Across the panes of a mirrored lane,
She lead me to a Goddess.

Her name was called Elysia,
She smiled, then She embraced me,
The Goddess of Euphoria,
With empathy encased me.
All that was hidden was revealed,
Enveloped in sweet ecstasy,
My sickly, selfish heart was healed,
In this midnight epiphany.
Then side-by-side with my gracious guides,
We sauntered down to the glorious town,
To view their fine society.

Metalsmiths molded monuments,
From molten blocks of ore,
While mimes were making merriment,
By the docks on the silver shore.
Myriad crystal pyramids,
Lined the river to the sea,
Here poets came to make their bids,
At immortality.
And all around was a sound,
Honey sweet, with lulling beat,
A mystic symphony.

The citizens were artisans,
Who, like sisters and brothers,
Were equal and not partisan,
To one over another.
I saw not one unfriendly face,
Nowhere was hatred burning,
Happy in this pacific place,
I'd no thoughts of returning.
For in this land of the silver sand,
Was no despair and everywhere,
Was love for life and learning.

But I was `wakened rudely from my slumber,
No more Elysia nor pyramids,
The lightning flashing and the crashing thunder
I did not fear, but something fear I did,
That I might lose this Paradise I'd tasted,
Euphoria, the city of a dream,
I feared the lovely vision might be wasted,
And disappear into the air like steam
So as best I could, I did embrace it
So that I might save my one sweet dream.

I composed these verses at my leisure
For you so that in your lonely moments,
My poetry might bring to you some pleasure,
And if it should my idle time was well spent,
Not acquiring worldly trinkets but on treasure,
That our evil little world can not measure.

I Was Only Dreaming - Ed Glomski

I dazzled you with poetry,
I wanted you, you wanted me,
But I was only dreaming.
Hand-in-hand by the waterside,
We gazed into each other's eyes,
But I was only dreaming.
Wet kisses on the sandy shore,
We loved each other more-and-more,
But I was only dreaming.
We were happy, you and I,
To be together, side-by-side,
But I was only dreaming.
It was so wonderful to find,
That you and I are intertwined,
When I was finished dreaming.

Littoral Haiku – Kay Lindgren

Fuchsia-fingered dawn
turning tidal pools to wine,
tickling ibis pink ...

Wavelets of gossip
among the chattering shells:
sea telling secrets.

Tempestuous gale
crumples the page of ocean,
squalling poetry.

A Nursery Game - Shisa Poet

A snippy scissor lover
would harm a paper love.
But Scissy breaks his blades
on Stoney. Old stoneheart
isn't scared of cuts, but Paper
Boy would pack him off
like any parcel.

She wants that Paper Boy.

His poems will blind
Stoney easily, cover him
in dazzle. Now all she needs
is keep her treasure
safe from jealous Scissy.

What would I want
with dangerous scissors?

What do I care
for a cold hard stone?

My Paper Boy wraps
my heart in words.

Wahre Liebe oder: die Auster - Merlin Carl

Voll Grauen der Morgen, so freudlos die Tage
voll Schwermut der Abend und einsam die Nacht
und wieder und wieder stell ich mir die Frage
was sich wohl der Schöpfer bei all dem gedacht.

So ziehe ich sinnend durch nächtliche Gassen
der Trauer zur Freude, der Freude zum Spott
und krieg´ ich ein Fünkchen von Schönheit zu fassen
dann heb´ ich den Blick und dann danke ich Gott.

Da plötzlich erhebt sich aus dreuender Leere
das Sinnbild der Schönheit im milchweißen Schein
und diese Gestalt, frei von irdischer Schwere
scheint mir die Antwort auf alles zu sein.

So stehe ich wankend, die Augen weit offen
und sehne und sinne und sehe sie an
ganz tief in mir regt sich ein rasendes Hoffen
daß nichts meinen Blick von ihr losreißen kann.

Ein jähes Begehren, ein reißend Verlangen
ergreift mich und spricht in befehlendem Ton:
"Beende dein Sehnen, dein Hoffen und Bangen
denn siehe wohl: zu lange suchst du mir schon!"

Doch weiß ich, durch Fassen wird alles zerrinnen
ich zögere, wanke, bin scheu wie ein Tier
und setze mich nieder, nach kurzem Besinnen
erheb´ ich mich also und spreche zu mir:

"Hier hab ich´s gefunden, hier will ich es lassen
daß anderes Aug´seine Freude dran hat.
Die Sehnsucht zu lieben, die Sehnsucht zu fassen
vergessen ist auch eine liebende Tat."

La danza - Jorge González

La danza se sienta, cansada,
en una barrica de licor de tiempo.
Adormece con su etérea forma
el ardoroso ímpetu
de las luciérnagas.

Otrora, un vermífugo acólito,
en llamas de selva,
adorna las espuelas del viento.

Navega el aire
por las plúmbeas ventanas
que ornan
un almanaque de hidras
y bloques de miedo.

No hay sed, sólo formas.

The dance (translation) - Jorge González

The dance sits down, tired,
on a large barrel of liquor of time.
She calms with her ethereal form
the ardent spirit
of glow-gorms.

Formerly, a vermifuge acolyte,
in flames of forest,
adorns the wind´s spurs.

The air sails
through the leaden windows
that embellish
an almanac of hydras
and blocks of fear.

No thirst, only forms.

Deep Down - Paul Nachbar

Deep down I know I'm
Absolutely infantile
What about you, dear?

A Soldier's Grave – Paul Nachbar

Among the warriors
And the warrior's wives
And the warrior's children
And the warrior's parents
I died of a bullet
But really of a broken heart
Laugh if you will
Or scorn
Or just ignore
There are many, many others
Dead and living.
Things go on.
I learned here not to question much
Or not at all
Don't you question either.
Just forgive.

The Damaged Poem – Paul Nachbar

I'm damaged
I'm damaged
I'm damaged
I'm damaged
Oh but what about....?
Well, he did well..
Well, she did well..
Or maybe...not?
Maybe they are REALLY damaged?

Oh I'm sorry.
Hey I'm not THAT damaged.
Oh no.
I'm sorry. I should be more damaged.
It's just not fair.
I'm really really sorry
Next time I'll know better

I'm damaged
I'm damaged
I'm damaged
I'm damaged
But what about this case?
Hmmm..

Adiós - Jorge González

Abrazo un ala de hielo,
un cuerpo que se estira
en un torbellino de miedo.

Y el sol abrasa mis besos.

Good-bye (translation) - Jorge González

I embrace a wing of ice,
a stretched body
in a whirl of fair.

And the sun burns my kisses.

A SAILOR’S DEATH at SEA (WWII) * - ©Wallace Rhodes

Wishith I were on that timeless gray sea
Near voices that call from its endless deep.
Its swells arage in that bygone age
Hold my friend's soul in a timeless sleep.

Had by fate I stood on that cold steel deck,
As that great gun was set then to fire
Death would flash by under an azure sky;
Its spectre would cease mortal desire.

Yes, were it but me on that fateful day,
When that shell came back from the breech.
My body would tip, under the flag I'd slip,
And the sea's swells for me would reach

One day I'll venture to that endless sea;
To my mates, my brothers of yore.
Bosum's pipe we'll hear, no general quarters to fear.
We'll meet again on some far off shore.

It Goes On and On (for J.FF in NYC) – Paul Nachbar

This doesn't fit
That doesn't work
That's just no good
This will not do
That is too much
This doesn't matter..
All of it tumbles
And falls down on you!

This is just bad news
That is not wise
This is a harsh laugh
That is a scare
This doesn't add up
That only hurts
All of these troubles
Make knots in your hair!

This is a mess
That isn't real
This is a freakshow
That's a bad deal
This is obnoxious
That causes pain
All of it happens
Again and again!.

This is a problem
That is unkind
This is an issue
To just blow your mind
This is a bombscare
That's just a crime
Somehow these things
Happen all of the time!.

This is a sickness
That is a grief
This is a nightmare
To doom all belief
This is a madness
That is a sore
Sometimes it seems
This all happened before!.

This is a blessing
But probably a curse
Endless obsessing
Will just make it worse
This is an answer
Though it looks quite grim
Look at those things
Which happened to HIM!

This is too hard now
That is too cruel
This brings back memories
Of bad times in school
Should I eat chicken
Should I eat pork?
Yes, you survived
One whole day in New York!.

Should you go elsewhere?
That could be done
Less of such problems
And maybe of fun
Wide open spaces
But maybe less chat
Much less of this here
And well, more of that.

Too Late, Too Late: After E.A.Poe's The Raven - Paul Nachbar

Too late, too late
The Raven cryeth
All is lost and all men lieth
All is sunk
Or soon is sinking
All's gone sour
Will keep on stinking.
All is doomed
Breathe not a word.
Will someone shoot
That fucking bird?

Haiku - Paul Nachbar

Mama said there would
Be days like this; didn't say
There'd be so many.

Childlish Verse - Paul Nachbar

They said here 'don't ask why'
They said if you ask 'why'
It will fall on your head.
I asked.
It did.

Why?
Some infinite idiocies about
Some Do or Don't.
Of course that would be the answer..

In the future
I promise that I won't.
(ask)
Or at least try hard not to.
Oops.Too late.
I did.

Forgive Us Please - Paul Nachbar

Forgive us please
We know we are
At times
A bit too much
I hope there's little more
I need to say.

A Song of Lacking Creativity - Merlin Carl

I want to write some verses
but now - lacking ideas -
restrict myself to curses
and mockery and tease.

This text contains no message
no vision and no dream;
just - right here in this passage-
a valid self-esteem.

This poem is not needed
if not completely bad
by writing it I breeded
new dadaistic threat.

These stanzas caused some roaring
laughters, thus to force
the poem to get boring
I wrote this senseless fourth.

Meteors Spewing - Kay Lindgren

Meteors spewing
from menacing arc of moon ...
night of white dragons.

S K I N D e e P - Thom G. Hadley

Touch is your baby gripping your thumb so tightly that your feel your pulse
In his red/blue alabaster butterfly-wing pulse, in her babypinktiny wee finger: all feelings, all
Colours at once,

Yet not coloured at all, more seen than heard within the Soul, more profound a sensation than a Sting
In the Spine…

It is also
A scent that you cannot quite scent or Place:
Still, it is an evocation that returns, recoiling like inhaled

Ganja,
An aroma sensed
Through the eyes,
Spiking ones very Core,
All memories…all sensations….roiling, a lava flow
Of All that was and Shall Be,
No interruption in the Flow of the River….
It shall always surely find its Course.
And, so Am I, and Shall Always Be…

If I choose to Be within
The Moment,

Within the All-together, inseparably,
I Become
That which has Always Been and Shall Always Be…
Unless you choose to say, “Not Really….”

Remember:
It is the touch of Thy Entire Being that resonates here, now,
Within you, and
Without You,
Without
Your Sense of SELF-isness…
Your Baby’s Heart is in time with yours,
At first, slightly syncopated,
Then a throb, a throb, a frequency-respondent
Modulation of Universe,
And you are both just
Throbbing…throbbing…throbbing…each pulse defined by its absence.

Baby/Loved One/Parent/Friend
Each comes, becomes, and becomes Again….
There is no Death! Your Being becomes from
The Father of the Father of the Father
Of the Mother of the Mother of the Mother
Of Heaven and Earth….

So it is with the entire Splendor around You:
That which you call the Universe,
The Cat on the Windowsill
A pear upon Marble with a view of a distant
Castle away and beyond the verdant
Olive grove where disports our Madonna…

Yet, Some say that
Touch is limbic,
a lizard basking under Quetzelcoatle’s Heavenly Sun

Upon clouds of Illusion, so Ephemeral,
In its All-Together
A silky, scintillating, and so, so, Seductive
Sensory Collusion
Of Inductive Electricity

` Of Psyche upon Spirit with Self-Will so Voluptuously insinuated, so en-Serpentined….

Graven Images must Die.
Be the Iconoclast!
Nothing shall be Eternal if in Stone it is so Graven, so craven
A clinging to illusion, to hollow Idolatry. Be-est then Thou,
A Gollum? Will you seek Your Precious?

Or, Willst Thou Not Seek that which Cannot Be Found?
As Dorothy said in “The Wizard of Oz”,
I guess, if I can’t find it in my own back yard,
I didn’t really want it anyway.”

Are you a Scarecrow? Or, do you explain minor Mysteries almost Everyday?
Are you made of Tin? Or, do you cry when a nestling has died? When Lassie didn’t come home?
Can you not Growl? Or, are your cubs protected, your Mate defended, your Territory Secure?
We Are All off to see the Wizard,

My Friends!

From First Pulse to Last,
It’s the Moment that Counts!
For that’s the Pulse that supercedes the Heart,
The Pulse that Energizes the Stars,
My pulse commingled with Your Pulse….

It is the heartbeat of Two
That has become a New Heartbeat of its Own…

In the pulse
Of that Wee, Wee, Tiny Baby
In Your Womb, In Your Heart, In your Man’s Pulse,
All-Ways in the Way It Has Been and Shall Be Evermore.

The Act of Love Is Eternal, Irrevocable,
And Indescribable…

Ever-remember Love, Ever Forgive…Seventy times Seventy times as Many Seventies More…
Do not grasp the Blossom,
Let It Unfold, as is Its Will….

God has done his Craft, and None should be so
Egregiously such an Interferer …

Yet, such got us the Sword of St. Michael, (was it He?)…
Or Gabe, Gabriel, oh,
I forget…. It’s been so long, after All, y’know…Well, (Oh, Hell!),
Of course, you Do Know….

Well, I’m still munching the Apple, don’t y’know,
And I see that Apple Pie is not thrown from upon Your Table, is it now?
What’s All This, Then? Don’t put on the Wrong Trousers in the morning,
I suppose. Whether ‘tis Prose, or Poetry, you may well roll it from your Tongue, as I, yet
May it be of a Positive Eng-erny, rather than a Trollish, death-rattlin’
Humbug. As this may well have been. Sorry, ‘bout that, then.
Somehow, I feel a bit like Gulliver, just now.
Which end of the Egg shall I break Open?

Web site copyright 2003, Poetic Genius Society/Apotheosis. All rights reserved.
All material contained within this site is copyright of respective authors and may not be reproduced without their consent.

Web design donated by Phenix Web Design.