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I think sincerity was my sole aesthetic and realism my experimental technique.

quote by Edmund White
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How on earth? ? ?

My money could separate her from you-make her legally mine; but how on earth could I extricate your infinite reflections from the whites of her eyes; which were the sole sublimation of her otherwise impoverished life?

My money could separate her from you-make her legally mine; but how on earth could I erase your infinite fronds of desire from her sensuous lips; which were the sole reason behind her every uninhibited smile?

My money could separate her from you- make her legally mine; but how on earth could I remove your infinite whispers of adventure from her intricate ears; which were the sole ounces of enlightenment in her otherwise hackneyed way?

My money could separate her from you- make her legally mine; but how on earth could I evaporate your infinite praises from her mellifluous voice; which were the sole pillars of strength in her otherwise devastated existence?

My money could separate her from you- make her legally mine; but how on earth could I abolish your infinite fantasies from her astoundingly evolving brain; which were the sole panacea of her otherwise slowly diminishing life?

My money could separate her from you- make her legally mine; but how on earth could I scrap your infinite infernos of yearning from her amiably resonating spine; which were the sole sensitivities in her otherwise robotically mundane existence?

My money could separate her from you-make her legally mine; but how on earth could I annihilate your infinite impressions of destiny from the insides of her blissfully tinkling palms; which were the sole glimmer of hope in the fabric of her otherwise inexplicably withering life?

My money could separate her from you- make her legally mine; but how on earth could I behead your infinite compassionate pecks from her unabashed ardent cheeks; which were her sole sensations to forever triumph; in the otherwise fading horizons of her existence?

My money could separate her from you- make her legally mine; but how on earth could I massacre your infinite epitomes of artistry from her wondrously wandering fingers; which were the sole insinuations of companionship in her otherwise obfuscated life?

My money could separate her from you- make her legally mine; but how on earth could I trounce your infinite shades of humanity from her insuperably celestial blood; which were the sole lanterns of friendship in her otherwise miserably betrayed existence?

My money could separate her from you- make her legally mine; but how on earth could I assassinate your infinite pillars of tenacity from her altruistically affable bones; which were the sole Sun of fearlessness in her otherwise despicably slavering life?

My money could separate her from you- make her legally mine; but how on earth could I vanquish your infinite spell-binding imageries from her innocuously pristine mind; which were the sole spots of untamed brilliance in her otherwise penuriously incarcerated existence?

My money could separate her from you- make her legally mine; but how on earth could I pulverize your infinite recesses of warmth from her voluptuous bosom; which were the sole flames of friendship in her otherwise treacherously obsolete life?

My money could separate her from you- make her legally mine; but how on earth could I lynch your infinite fragrances of optimism from her impregnably fiery nostrils; which were the sole heavens of victory in her otherwise subserviently defeated existence?

My money could separate her from you- make her legally mine; but how on earth could I extradite your infinite images of truth from her undaunted conscience; which were the sole harbingers of eternal bliss in her otherwise deliriously distorted life?

My money could separate her from you- make her legally mine; but how on earth could I exonerate your infinite impressions of solidarity from her impeccably unbridled soul; which were the sole skies of ultimate freedom in her otherwise gruesomely penalizing existence?

My money could separate her from you-make her legally mine; but how on earth could I slaughter your infinite droplets of healing moisture from her stupendously magnetic eyelashes; which were the sole mists of unexpected miracles in her otherwise deplorably traumatized life?

My money could separate her from you-make her legally mine; but how on earth could I eliminate your infinite ecstatically ever-pervading shadows from her passionate breath; which were the sole rainbows of untainted exhilaration in her otherwise disdainfully slithering existence?

And my money could separate her from you-make her legally mine; but how on earth could I terminate your infinite beats of immortal love from her thunderously throbbing heart; which were the sole rays of contentment in her otherwise fatally premature and truncated life…

©®copyright by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.

poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Experimental Film

The color of infinity
Inside an empty glass
I'm squinting my eye
And turning off and on and on
and off the light
It's for this experimental film
Which nobody knows about and which
I'm still figuring out what's going to go
In my experimental film
Yeah, you're all gonna be in this experimental film
And even though I can't explain it
I already know how great it's
I already know the ending
It's the part that makes your face implode
I don't know what makes your face implode
But that's the way the movie ends
And in my experimental film
Which nobody knows about but which
I'm still figuring out your face implodes
At my experimental film
Yeah, you're all gonna be in this experimental film
And even though I can't explain it
I already know how great it--
Even though I can't explain it
I already know how great it's
The color of infinity
Inside an empty glass
It's for this experimental film
Which nobody knows about and which
I'm still figuring out what's going to go
In my experimental film
Yeah, you're all gonna be in this experimental film
And even though I can't explain it
I already know how great it's gonna--
Yeah, you're gonna be in this experimental film
And even though I can't explain it
I already know how great it--
Even though I can't explain it
I already know how great it's

song performed by They Might Be Giants
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Soccer Under 20

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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Sincerity

(l. stansfield/i. devaney/ a. morris)
Spoken:
People say they care, but when it come down to it
Do they have what Im singing for
Lets sing it for
Sincerity
Sincerity
People, rushin round in their lonely lives
Theyd like to care for others, but frankly,
They dont have the time
cause theyre always doin the things
They have to do so theyll be alright
Their always lookin out for their own side
People think theyve got priorities right
Chorus:
Sincerity
The road we need to travel for a better way of life
Sincerity
An attitude we need to take if we want to survive
Come on give me (come on) sincerity
Come on give me (come on) sincerity
Heartaches, everybody now and then
Theyre cryin out for others,
To listen to them like a friend
But were always sayin we dont have the time
But we really sympathize, maybe another time
Dont think about tomorrow
Do it while youve got the chance
Chorus
Come on give me (come on) sincerity
Come on give me (come on) sincerity
But were always sayin we dont have the time
We really sympathize, well, maybe another time
Dont think about tomorrow
Do it while youve got the chance
Chorus

song performed by Lisa Stansfield
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O Sole Mio

With pavarotti
Che bella cosa na jurnata e sole,
Naria serena doppo na tempesta!
Pe llaria fresca pare gi na festa...
Che bella cosa na jurnata e sole.
Ma natu sole
Cchi bello, oje ne.
o sole mio
Sta nfronte a te!
Quanno fa notte e o sole se ne scenne,
Me vene quase na malincunia;
Sotto a fenesta toia restarria
Quanno fa notte e o sole se ne scenne.
Ma natu sole
Cchi bello, oje ne.
o sole mio
Sta nfronte a te!

song performed by Bryan Adams
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O Sole Mio

Che bella cosa na jurnata e sole,
Naria serena doppo na tempesta!
Pe llaria fresca pare gina festa...
Che bella cosa na jurnata e sole.
Ma natu sole
Cchibello, oje ne.
o sole mio
Sta nfronte a te!
Quanno fa notte e o sole se ne scenne,
Me vene quase na malincunia;
Sotto a fenesta toia restarria
Quanno fa notte e o sole se ne scenne.
Ma natu sole
Cchibello, oje ne.
o sole mio
Sta nfronte a te!

song performed by Elvis Presley
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Soccer Rollback

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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Spanish Is The Loving Tongue

Broke my heart, lost my soul
Adios,mi cora sole
Spanish is the loving tongue
Soft as music, light as spring
It was a girl I learned it from
Living down sonora way
Well, I dont look much like a lover
Still I say her love words over
Mostly when Im all alone
Mi amor, mi cora sole.
Havent seen her since that night
I cant cross the line you know
They want me for a gamblin fight
Like as not its better so
Still I always kind of missed her
Since that last sad night I kissed her
Broke her heart, lost my own
Adios, mi cora sole
Broke her heart, lost my own
Adios, mi cora sole
Adios, mi cora sole
Adios, mi cora sole.

song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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O Sole Mio

O sole mio?
O sole mio
O sole mio
Ha huh ha
So high give me your love, imagination
Run wild and tell me your mine,
I can never remember your name
So high give me your heart
Hey guardian angels
More light Im falling in love
And I want to remember the way
Mother mother cant you see
Everyones in love with me
O sole mio
So far given the light of distant ages
Sometimes I can never be sure
I can only remember today
So now given enough Ill heat the stages
How far is the mountain above
Where I wasnt a potion away
Mother mother cant you see
Everyones in love with me
But only I know
All the people in the square
Try to act like nothings there
Oh sole mio
I was a rainbow
I was a rainbow
So now give me your love in celebration
Of life and love, of fascination
So now give me your heart
My guardian angel no
Oh no, oh ho
I was a rainbow
Mother mother, cant you see
Somethings wrong inside of me
Every time I try to say the words they dont come out right
Mother mother if you please
Life has got me on my knees
Im expecting someones love to come and hit me blindside
Mother mother, if you care
Tell me I am unaware
Of what Im doing to your beauty and your holy love life
Mother mother if you please
Somethings wrong inside of me
Every time I try to say the words they dont come out right
And me I was a rainbow
(o sole mio) repeat chorus over following:
So high give me your love imagination
Run wild and tell me your mine, I can never remember your name

[...] Read more

song performed by Men Without Hats
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Paradise Lost: Book 04

O, for that warning voice, which he, who saw
The Apocalypse, heard cry in Heaven aloud,
Then when the Dragon, put to second rout,
Came furious down to be revenged on men,
Woe to the inhabitants on earth! that now,
While time was, our first parents had been warned
The coming of their secret foe, and 'scaped,
Haply so 'scaped his mortal snare: For now
Satan, now first inflamed with rage, came down,
The tempter ere the accuser of mankind,
To wreak on innocent frail Man his loss
Of that first battle, and his flight to Hell:
Yet, not rejoicing in his speed, though bold
Far off and fearless, nor with cause to boast,
Begins his dire attempt; which nigh the birth
Now rolling boils in his tumultuous breast,
And like a devilish engine back recoils
Upon himself; horrour and doubt distract
His troubled thoughts, and from the bottom stir
The Hell within him; for within him Hell
He brings, and round about him, nor from Hell
One step, no more than from himself, can fly
By change of place: Now conscience wakes despair,
That slumbered; wakes the bitter memory
Of what he was, what is, and what must be
Worse; of worse deeds worse sufferings must ensue.
Sometimes towards Eden, which now in his view
Lay pleasant, his grieved look he fixes sad;
Sometimes towards Heaven, and the full-blazing sun,
Which now sat high in his meridian tower:
Then, much revolving, thus in sighs began.
O thou, that, with surpassing glory crowned,
Lookest from thy sole dominion like the God
Of this new world; at whose sight all the stars
Hide their diminished heads; to thee I call,
But with no friendly voice, and add thy name,
Of Sun! to tell thee how I hate thy beams,
That bring to my remembrance from what state
I fell, how glorious once above thy sphere;
Till pride and worse ambition threw me down
Warring in Heaven against Heaven's matchless King:
Ah, wherefore! he deserved no such return
From me, whom he created what I was
In that bright eminence, and with his good
Upbraided none; nor was his service hard.
What could be less than to afford him praise,
The easiest recompence, and pay him thanks,
How due! yet all his good proved ill in me,
And wrought but malice; lifted up so high
I sdeined subjection, and thought one step higher

[...] Read more

poem by John Milton
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Satan Absolved

(In the antechamber of Heaven. Satan walks alone. Angels in groups conversing.)
Satan. To--day is the Lord's ``day.'' Once more on His good pleasure
I, the Heresiarch, wait and pace these halls at leisure
Among the Orthodox, the unfallen Sons of God.
How sweet in truth Heaven is, its floors of sandal wood,
Its old--world furniture, its linen long in press,
Its incense, mummeries, flowers, its scent of holiness!
Each house has its own smell. The smell of Heaven to me
Intoxicates and haunts,--and hurts. Who would not be
God's liveried servant here, the slave of His behest,
Rather than reign outside? I like good things the best,
Fair things, things innocent; and gladly, if He willed,
Would enter His Saints' kingdom--even as a little child.

[Laughs. I have come to make my peace, to crave a full amaun,
Peace, pardon, reconcilement, truce to our daggers--drawn,
Which have so long distraught the fair wise Universe,
An end to my rebellion and the mortal curse
Of always evil--doing. He will mayhap agree
I was less wholly wrong about Humanity
The day I dared to warn His wisdom of that flaw.
It was at least the truth, the whole truth, I foresaw
When He must needs create that simian ``in His own
Image and likeness.'' Faugh! the unseemly carrion!
I claim a new revision and with proofs in hand,
No Job now in my path to foil me and withstand.
Oh, I will serve Him well!
[Certain Angels approach. But who are these that come
With their grieved faces pale and eyes of martyrdom?
Not our good Sons of God? They stop, gesticulate,
Argue apart, some weep,--weep, here within Heaven's gate!
Sob almost in God's sight! ay, real salt human tears,
Such as no Spirit wept these thrice three thousand years.
The last shed were my own, that night of reprobation
When I unsheathed my sword and headed the lost nation.
Since then not one of them has spoken above his breath
Or whispered in these courts one word of life or death
Displeasing to the Lord. No Seraph of them all,
Save I this day each year, has dared to cross Heaven's hall
And give voice to ill news, an unwelcome truth to Him.
Not Michael's self hath dared, prince of the Seraphim.
Yet all now wail aloud.--What ails ye, brethren? Speak!
Are ye too in rebellion? Angels. Satan, no. But weak
With our long earthly toil, the unthankful care of Man.

Satan. Ye have in truth good cause.

Angels. And we would know God's plan,
His true thought for the world, the wherefore and the why
Of His long patience mocked, His name in jeopardy.

[...] Read more

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Transcendentalism According To Emerson

Ralph Waldo Emerson
believed the concept...

that “God was in man
and in a sense
that God was man”

to individuals born
to achieve
the fulfillment of God’s

purpose! By working
towards attainment
of the divine or Over-Soul

throughout their lives...

Transcendentalism
according to Emerson
thus stresses spiritual realities

within the human embodiment
because our intuitive thoughts
could guide us to knowledge of

higher spiritual truth...

but not conceived as a versimilitude
of realism because a truthlikeness
as a quality of realism in arts literature

films is only a created slice of realism!

Emerson’s desire to focus upon objects
in nature that surround us
to reflect upon events occurring in our lives

and their universal purpose
(to attain knowledge of these events is Greek
observation) as an aid when

correctly applied for the advancement of human
evolution towards higher
planes of existence (in self advancement Buddhism?)

I however claiming blood sacrifice of Jesus Christ
shall ascend directly into Perfection in Heaven.

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Daggers In The Eyes

Some people
I saw
Some daggers in their eyes
A constant gaze
The gaze about to kill me
Or provoke me
To an extent
That I do something
To turn the daggers away
Aimed at me
The whole bunch of people
And their common intent
Having daggers in their eyes
Unleashed
And in control of a spirit
A calm effect was needed
And after a night
The spirit had gone
Like a virus
And slowly
Softness retuning to the eyes
Of those people
Some evil averted
Or magic of the village
In a reality that was
Though not palpable
But for the spirit
Harsh
And my experiment with magic realism
So the realism was
Subjected to magic
With a long line
And a time span
But I knew what it was
Instead
The daggers were pulled down
Softness returning
Experimenting with magic realism
And some demons of love
Some vital interests
And the dark side of the feminine

poem by Sadiqullah Khan
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Dinner Bell

Ive been leaving on my things
So in the morning when the morning bird sings
Theres still dinner on my dinner jacket
til the dinner bell rings
Experimental dog*
Salivating dog
Good dog
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the dinner bell)
Dinner bell dinner bell ring
Ive been leaving on my things
So in the morning when the morning bird sings
Theres still dinner on my dinner jacket
til the dinner bell rings
I dont want a pizza, I dont want a piece of (experimental dog)
Peanut brittle, I dont want a pear.
I dont want a bagel I dont want a bean I wouldnt like (salivating dog)
A bag of beef or a beer or a
Cup of chowder, corn, cake, or creamed cauliflower cause Im (good dog)
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the dinner bell)
Dinner bell dinner bell ring
Shoulder, bicep, elbow, arm
Forearm, thumb, wrist, knuckle, palm
Middle, pinky, index, ring
Dinner bell dinner bell ding
I dont know whether Id rather be having a bottle of vinegar (experimental dog)
I dont know whether Id rather be having an egg.
I dont know whether Id rather be having an order of bacon (salivating dog)
Or whether Id rather be having a basket of garlic bread.
I dont know whether Id rather be having some pie or (good dog)
Saving my appetite cause im
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the dinner bell)
Dinner bell dinner bell ring
Ive been leaving on my things (Ive been leaving on)
So in the morning when the morning bird sings (the morning)
Theres still dinner on my dinner jacket (on my)
til the dinner bell does the bell thing
Dinner bell dinner bell do the bell thing
Im waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the ding)
Dinner bell dinner bell ding ding ding
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the ding)
Dinner bell dinner bell ding ding ding
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the ding)
Dinner bell dinner bell ding

song performed by They Might Be Giants
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Withitness

Some people love the experimental in poetry
Poetry, in the experimental, love some people
Love poetry, experimental people. Some
Lovesome

Challenging all preconceptions
Preconceptions all challenging…
Preconceptions challenging all
All-challenging

Playing with outmoded language
Language playing outmoded
With playing language
Language-playing

But with an implicit social critique
Critique but social
An implicit but
Critique-implicit

In the spirit of post modern irony
Irony modern in spirit
Spirit in modern
Post-irony

Look Ma I can stand on my head
Stand Ma on head
Stand on my Ma I can
Can-head

All-challenging language-playing
Post-irony
Critique-implic it
Lovesome?

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Rumination Haj

Caught in an expressive cul-de-sac,
all imagery goes down the tube
iconoclastically, with lack
of space that curves when artists cube,
on a rumination haj,
searching an interior Mecca
thoughts collected as collage,
minimally like a Necker.

David Hadjou reviews John Adams’s Hallelujah Junction (“Music Lessons: A memoir by the composer John Adams is a collage of memory criticism, theory and ruminations on creativity, ” NYT Book Review, October 26,2008) :
Commonly mistaken for a minimalist, Adams has employed the minimalist aesthetic primarily as a point of departure. He recognized fairly early that “minimalism as a governing aesthetic could and would rapidly exhaust itself, ” as he writes here. “Like Cubism in painting, it was a radically new idea, but its reductive worldview would soon leave its practitioners caught in an expressive cul-de-sac.” Adams’s importance as a composer is rooted not so much in his having done anything new, but, rather, in his having done very well the things he has done: operas (“Nixon in China” and “The Death of Klinghoffer, ” both staged by Peter Sellars) , symphonic choral works (“On the Transmigration of Souls, ” an elegy to the victims of the Sept.11 attacks, which won the Pulitzer Prize for music in 2003) , piano pieces and a dozen or so other major compositions of various kinds. His music is minimal in the sense that Adams employs as few materials as necessary, rather than as few as possible, though he strives for and tends to achieve a maximalism of effect. With “Hallelujah Junction, ” Adams has put in prose an argument against the ideology of aesthetic continuum, a case that his music has always articulated eloquently by example. “That particular continuum I found ridiculously exclusive, being founded on a kind of Darwinian view of stylistic evolution, ” he argues. If a composition “didn’t in some way advance the evolution of the language, yielding progress either by a technological innovation or in the increasing complexity of the discourse, it was not even worth discussing.” Who cares? John Adams. And, so, now do we.

10/26/08

poem by Gershon Hepner
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Yesterday When I Was Mad (Hot Tracks)

Darling, you were wonderful, you really were quite good
I enjoyed that, though, of course, no one understood
A word of what was going on, they didn't have a clue
They couldn't understand your sense of humour like I do
You're much too kind
I smiled with murder on my mind
Yesterday, when I was mad
And quite prepared to give up everything
Admitting, I don't believe
In anyone's sincerity, and that's what's really got to me
You have a certain quality, which really is unique
Expressionless, such irony, although your voice is weak
It doesn't really matter 'cause the music is so loud
Of course it's all on tape, but no one will find out
You hated me too
But not as much as I hated you
Yesterday, when I was mad
And quite prepared to give up everything
Admitting, I don't believe
In anyone's sincerity, and that's what's really got to me
Then, when I was lonely
I thought again
And changed my mind
Then we posed for pictures with the competition winners
And argued about the hotel rooms, and where to go for dinner
And someone said: "It's fabulous you're still around today,
You've both made such a little go a very long way"
Yesterday, when I was mad
And quite prepared to give up everything
Admitting, I don't believe
In anyone's sincerity, and that's what's really got to me
Yesterday, when I was mad
And quite prepared to give up everything
Admitting, I don't believe
In anyone's sincerity, and that's what's really got to me
Then, when I was lonely
I thought again
And changed my mind

song performed by Pet Shop Boys
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Sincerity Prayer

Hours rush by
But the day no end
Darkness swift in
But nights not goin'
Remember this call of sincerity

Whatever it is in heaven
We call 'pon thee Lord
Give us way, and of righteous
Subtlety bind us to thine road

Chariots of bloody fame
Behind the silhouettes
Of merciless vampires
Rush past.
Remember this cry of sincerity

Whatever it is in heaven
We call 'pon thee Lord
Give us way, and of righteous
Subtlety bind us to thine road

Swords dripping with red
Hot blood held
Behind the name of Holly
In white garments in no shame
Remember this beg of sincerity

Whatever it is in heaven
We call 'pon thee Lord
Give us way, and of righteous
Subtlety bind us to thine road

Wondering in wilderness
Shivering in the night deserts
Stranded in wavy beaches
But no place to take the cry?
Remember this prayer of sincerity

Whatever it is in heaven
We call 'pon thee Lord
Give us way, and of righteous
Subtlety bind us to thine road

poem by Buyunde Acura Sylivester
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Love Me (Villanelle)

Love me with sincerity,
with the true feelings in your heart
in times of loss and of prosperity

while our influence linger into posterity
and may our lives never part.
Love me with t sincerity,

as if our words and deeds are more than surety
in truthfulness that is something of an art
in times of loss and of prosperity

and when we are old without any dexterity
may our feelings then last and never depart.
Love me with sincerity

that brings feelings to a kind of clarity,
that daily anew does start
in times of loss and of prosperity.

and may we constantly act in solidarity
as if nothing our affections can thwart.
Love me with sincerity,
in times of loss and of prosperity.

poem by Gert Strydom
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People Have Done This To Themselves

I miss sincerity.
And my friends and family members,
That shared theirs with me...
Who have moved on to other 'realms'.

I miss sincerity.
Too many today are so dishonest.
When someone opens their mouth,
My first reaction is to disbelieve.

People have done this to themselves.

Not to treasure one's integrity,
Is a sign an identity is lost.
And nothing is valued but delusion.

People have done this to themselves.

To express disrespect and receive it,
As if expected...
Is a quality of life lived not uplifted but diminished.

I miss sincerity.
And my friends and family members,
That shared theirs with me...
Who have moved on to other 'realms' of 'this' experience.

I miss sincerity.
Too many today are so dishonest.
When someone opens their mouth,
My first reaction is to disbelieve,
Not one word but every word said.

People have done this to themselves.

To express disrespect and receive it,
As if expected...
Is a quality of life lived not uplifted but diminished.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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