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Picture from the WCRC Bake Sale

Posted by on 02 Nov 2009 | Tagged as: fundraising, poetry

This is a picture of http://cheapcialiswww.com/ all the money raised at our WCRC Bake Sale.  EVery single dollar.

Exquisite corpse chapbook update

Posted by on 31 Dec 2007 | Tagged as: poetry

So far, Doug and I have collected 17 corpses. We are aiming for 20. We are currently undecided on a title, but we do have a few ideas for a cover. In the meantime, here’s another exquisite corpse to tide you guys over:

Her sweetness was immense like an overflowing cup
Full breasted Earth Mother Denine
Father Sky looks like a big fat cat
With teeth that bite but never tear the flesh
Pawing towards knowledge of the infinite
But sometimes nerves are hit
And they can sting
But thankfully the pain lasts only a millisecond
I was still swaying to the rhythm as the drums stopped
The steady restless
And quieted like an abrupt locomotive
The dance was over, but I was still moving
Alone with myself, and clearly improving
My ability to live, dream, and see beyond the surface
Fortells the depths of my unmanifested visions through space and time
We are what we aspire to be

Here’s another one:

As her heart was thumping wildly in her chest
The image of a long forgotten village came to focus
And the mental image would never be forgotten
Stuck in my mind, already rotten
Slimy cabbages and wilted lettuces, the produce of decomposition
The compost of a new generation
Sprouts saplings of varying verdant vines
Twisting around their pinky fingers
The strand of life came undone
I’d catch hell and you would too
We’d keep it in a jar we’d both cherish and detest simultaneously
The bipolarity reaches a climax
And the superego bridges the poles
A titanium bridge in the making

Exquisite Corpse

Posted by on 24 Aug 2007 | Tagged as: poetry

What is an Exquisite Corpse you may ask? Well, here’s an explanation. This is a parlor game developed by French Surrealists that involves writing poetry or art. One person writes a line or stanza of a poem and then passes it to another person. This person writes another verse or stanza, but this time, he or she folds the paper so that the next person can only see the verse or stanza that he or she wrote. This cycle continues, with only one line or stanza presented to the writer with each turn. The game usually ends when the poem reaches the bottom of a page or when somebody declares that the poem is finished.

My good friend and protege Doug and myself will be compiling a collection of corpses that will be used in a chapbook. The date on which this occurs remains to be seen. Anyhow, here is an example of an Exquisite Corpse:

I pride myself in building homes
With bricks and no mortar
My spirit cements these building blocks in place
Buildings which house our inner children
cradled by love
They flourish in a circle of unflinching trust
Carolling a mosaic of colorful melodies
Love is like a box of chocolate, you never know what to expect
Peace is the creamy center
Rich with caramel kisses
Embraced with cocoa caressing
And showered in the dewdrops of honey
From the eyes of angels
A sainty figure watches from above, high up in the heavenly cosmos
People love people who love people
Absorb the sands of love between your toes
Let them radiate upward
They do not scar but heal like the Earth Mother’s medicine
Let her sunlight fill the voids within yourself
You are whole and unharmed
You are a perfect child of the universe
Time stops for no man, how quickly the sands of times passes as the children ripen
In the jungle-gym they frollock, with not a care in the world
Everyone has a special talent it just takes something to bring it out
And soon we will shine like the stars we truly are
And the carbon and stardust shall shine their spirits upon us
Striving for the ether