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MDSHall: 21st Century Griot
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Words are the bearers of dreams still to come.
Words are the bearers of dreams still to come.

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For the week ending January 19, 2019, Disaster by +Sharmistha Sasa is my choice for weekly mod pick:)

Disaster
-------------------------------------------

A storm
As you were
Cracking under my blue
Sky
With pillows of clouds
Now all are ruptured
Rainwater seeping,
Licking through the softened
Earth, loose
Over the years after years
Now all set in the little pools
Ephemeral
An urge for union
Only one ocean standing
Where pleasure swirls around pain
Or the other way around
And then another storm
Tickles the feeble nerves,
I'll give you another chance
To drench me with your white
Lies

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At intermission I find her backstage
still practicing the piece coming up next.
She calls it the "solo in high dreary."
Her bow niggles at the string like a hand
stroking skin it never wanted to touch.
Probably under her scorn she is sick
that she can't do better by it. As I am,
at the dreary in me, such as the disparity
between all the tenderness I've received
and the amount I've given, and the way
I used to shrug off the imbalance
simply as how things are, as if the male
were constituted like those coffeemakers
that produce less black bitter than the quantity
of sweet clear you poured in--forgetting about
how much I spilled through unsteady walking,
and that lot I threw on the ground
in suspicion, and for fear I wasn't worthy,
and all I poured out for reasons I don't understand yet.
"Break a leg!" somebody tells her.
Back in my seat, I can see she is nervous
when she comes out; her hand shakes as she
re-dog-ears the top corners of the big pages
that look about to flop over on their own.
Now she raises the bow--its flat bundle of hair
harvested from the rear ends of horses--like a whetted
scimitar she is about to draw across a throat,
and attacks. In a back alley a cat opens
her pink-ceilinged mouth, gets netted
in full yowl, clubbed, bagged, bicycled off, haggled open,
gutted, the gut squeezed down to its highest pitch,
washed, sliced into cello strings, which bring
an ancient screaming into this duet of hair and gut.
Now she is flying--tossing back the goblets
of Saint-Amour standing empty,
half-empty, or full on the tablecloth-
like sheet music. Her knees tighten
and loosen around the big-hipped creature
wailing and groaning between them
as if in elemental amplexus.
The music seems to rise from the crater left
when heaven was torn up and taken off the earth;
more likely it comes up through her priest's dress,
up from that clump of hair which by now
may be so wet with its waters, like the waters
the fishes multiplied in at Galilee, that
each wick draws a portion all the way out
to its tip and fattens a droplet on the bush
of half notes now glittering in that dark.
At last she lifts off the bow and sits back.
Her face shines with the unselfconsciousness of a cat
screaming at night and the teary radiance of one
who gives everything no matter what has been given.

The Cellist - Galway Kinnell

~ The Cellist - Galway Kinnell

Shared Via English Poems Android App. https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=in.banaka.mohit.englishpoems

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Imagination under Revision Pt5
Imagination under Revision Pt5
21stcenturygrio.wordpress.com
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I cannot be known
Better than you know me

Your eyes in which we sleep
We together
Have made for my man's gleam
A better fate than for the common nights

Your eyes in which I travel
Have given to signs along the roads
A meaning alien to the earth

In your eyes who reveal to us
Our endless solitude

Are no longer what they thought themselves to be

You cannot be known
Better than I know you.

I Cannot be Known - Paul Eluard

~ I Cannot be Known - Paul Eluard

Shared Via English Poems Android App. https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=in.banaka.mohit.englishpoems

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For the week ending January 12, 2019, A Rheum of One's Own by +sma river gets my mod nod.
1/6/2019
A Rheum of One's Own

Separateness
Is an illusion
An illness of the Matrix
Of skin and bodies
Past and presently breathing
Exhaling
Exhumed
Examined
All angles
Exhausted
Soles full of holes
From endless walks on Gaia.

I can't write anymore
Speaking has become useless
Poetry redundant
Infusion of Jung
Mixed with a little
Sass
Sex
And doll parts
A leg from Emily
An arm from Matt
An ear from James
A hand each from Chris and Marilyn
Donated
By all of you
And some of me
Who just happen to be plugged in
And on the same frequency
Maintenant.

3D
Telling me my flesh is real
And not yet falling off my bones
And that my breath is not a gift
Of pantheon gods
But recycled air
Stale
Just passing through my lungs
As water turns to piss
And yesterday's
Meatloaf looks about the same today
Cradled by porcelain
And chlorinated water.

After much pathfinding
Chakra clearing
Ass minding
Painful feeling
Light working
Naked twerking
Childhood trauma
Ancestral healing
Dalai lama
Obama drama
Unconscious rewinding
New age
Double binding
Giving up all perfect sex
Moving on from asshole ex
Hugging my inner child's child
Lifting weights
Gym girl wild
Shovel out
Digging
Drilling
Codependent love holes
Filling
Admitting
Quitting
Mindless sitting
Love addiction
Love as fiction
Rejecting wine and crucification
Trauma bonding
Aimless lauding.

5d bliss
All comes to this
There are no extra solo rooms
Just one
Extremely
Large
Round house
A golden thread
And needle
Sewing souls together
All connected
Singing kumbaya
As feet rub raw
Blisters bursting
Bloody stubs
Oozing
Because rocks
Are not imaginary
On planet terra.

(Copyright 2019 by owner of Sma River Google+ acct.)
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Last, to the chamber where I lie
My fearful footsteps patter nigh,
And come out from the cold and gloom
Into my warm and cheerful room.

There, safe arrived, we turn about
To keep the coming shadows out,
And close the happy door at last
On all the perils that we past.

Then, when mamma goes by to bed,
She shall come in with tip-toe tread,
And see me lying warm and fast
And in the land of Nod at last.

In Port - Robert Louis Stevenson

~ In Port - Robert Louis Stevenson

Shared Via English Poems Android App. https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=in.banaka.mohit.englishpoems

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"Perhaps you'll tire of me," muses
my love, although she's like a great city
to me, or a park that finds new
ways to wear each flounce of light
and investiture of weather.
Soil doesn't tire of rain, I think,

but I know what she fears: plans warp,
planes explode, topsoil gets peeled away
by floods. And worse than what we can't
control is what we could; those drab
scuttled marriages we shed so
gratefully may auger we're on our owns

for good reason. "Hi, honey," chirps Dread
when I come through the door; "you're home."
Experience is a great teacher
of the value of experience,
its claustrophobic prudence,
its gloomy name-the-disasters-

in-advance charisma. Listen,
my wary one, it's far too late
to unlove each other. Instead let's cook
something elaborate and not
invite anyone to share it but eat it
all up very very slowly.

Misgivings - William Matthews

~ Misgivings - William Matthews

Shared Via English Poems Android App. https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=in.banaka.mohit.englishpoems

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We are Moving
...Hello fellow Imagineers of Pyrotechnic Poetics, with the imminent shutdown of G+, the mods and I have decided to move the Words on Fire poetry community to Minds, an up and coming social media platform, as our new home. We would like to see all of our members make this exodus with us. We encourage all of you to create a profile on Minds, then look for Words on Fire there using the link below and request to be a member. We'd love to see you there to help us build an even better Words on Fire community. It's not ideal or perfect, but has much potential and would seem to be our best alternative for right now to expand upon our world of Words on Fire. Please comment, if you plan on joining us/;€)
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Hello fellow Imagineers of Pyrotechnic Poetics, with the imminent shutdown of G+, the mods and I have decided to move the Words on Fire poetry community to Minds, an up and coming social media platform, as our new home. We would like to see all of our members make this exodus with us. We encourage all of you to create a profile on Minds, then look for Words on Fire there using the link below and request to be a member. We'd love to see you there to help us build an even better Words on Fire community. It's not ideal or perfect, but has much potential and would seem to be our best alternative for right now to expand upon our world of Words on Fire. Please comment, if you plan on joining us/;€)
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