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Annihilation Point

blood blot
a hideous music
like fixed stars
a chaos of shattered glass
you can hang your hat on

bamboo shards make a vulgar wound
gold spun hair
on floral linen
blemished soaking red
like a shaking rat in a cats mouth

Hazels glistening rectum; a pretense
salutes celibacy
and high end moisturizer toilet paper

to shock simplicities morals
of an excretory affair
a dark chandelier hangs in the balance
torpedo runnels through chambered knots
unleashing treacherous sanity
sins crib
theater of purgation
father forgive her
she took a shit

an idealist without ideals

the grand masturbator
a simulacrum of a lubed god
in nights dragging shade
oracle of a ruddy opera and legs over head
flexed crimson wattle rolls

theories invite anti theories
light invites darkness

silence yields
shadows throat
and cacophonous whispers
a grind house temple of gods and demons
in horrendous geometry
of inflicting malice

until the serpent ascends
from black pitch hells
like a bomb through the skull

lusts antidote
waterloo of the soul
annihilation point
the cadaver smiles

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
surrealism ….a poetry of fragments and texture
Editing stage: 


Very interesting piece. Made me thankful I don't have any kids of my own. So, it moved me. Stirred.

It's a bit choppy as some of the lines stand alone & then others read connected to the next. But maybe it's supposed to. It reads like a beat poem. The first line POPPED by itself & the next four lines flowed more cool & very ominous. You should find someone with a stand up base if i ever perform it.
"to shock simplicities morals"
We're u going for shocking simplistic morals or were u personifying the word simplicities, like simplicity has morals & its' morals were shocked? If so, just throw an apostrophe after simps. No biggie
Some lines felt a little forced & didn't seem to fit-
bomb thru the skull,
The theories stanza

Dark & off the beaten path. A goth beatnik piece with shock value .
U have an incredible & twisted mind. I'm a fan.

Nullus Anxietas, friend

Well I suppose I'm under the impression that simplicity in a complex world soul can be stupid or unreasonable or broadly disconnected while still containing a seed of reason or normative ideation where the simplistic has no redeeming qualities.

Yeah I agree about the choppy I might even add at times disjointed. even more than one poem so it has the effect of fragmentation
As I see it this is often the hall mark of writing without adherence to a straight narrative with a beginning middle and end, sometimes dada or surreal like wandering off into rooms that lead no where ie a dream distant from the concrete

Some Surrealist literature is like that; focusing on the descriptive language of weird moodscapes, nightmares and other aspects of the subliminal consequently not very popular for the very reasons you mention

Having said that I will re read my piece with your comments in mind Thank you kindly for you review I very much appreciate it!

Best Z

Across the spectrum of religious experiences—from the archaic and chthonic experience of sacred power to organized religion—surrealism arises in that elusive threshold between the sacred and the profane, between the illuminations and of everyday life and the more formal expressions of the sacred. The mysterious, contradictory nature of this liminal zone is embodied in surrealist literature and art: matter becomes metaphor; the ordinary object becomes extraordinary; and images evoke emotional disturbance and ambiguity rather than specific ideas. The ambivalent force of the surreal resists conventional rational categories of intellectual discourse. Behind its elusive potency of mood and charged associations lie the fundamental ambivalence and non rational power of the sacred.
—Celia Rabinovitch, Surrealism and the Sacred

author comment

I have a thing with surrealism in poetry, i did a masters at the Sorbonne 50 years ago on Rimbaud and his influence on the Surrealist movement. I am working on a book of translations on Paul Eluard, known in France like we know Ferlinghetti, who was one of the majors in the French movement. After all is said and done, I don't know how why sometimes it works, and why other times not (for me) To me the best of it was the brew by the South Americans, in literature with Marquez and in poetry Lorca and Neruda... They have a surrealism that relates to the real world in a way that evokes emotion. I can't say why Eluard speaks to me in his very surreal writings, and why I'm having trouble with your poem.

Perhaps it is the beginning. It is asking me to accept certain images

blood blot
a hideous music
like fixed stars
a chaos of shattered glass
you can hang your hat on

A hideous music like fixed stars... I can't grasp it, why are fixed stars like a hideous music? It then moves on in a collage of nonconnected imagery, full of blood and guts...

As you are a painter, there is a hidden dream that becomes available to us in Magritte, de Cherico, even Dail. Somehow visual art is a great way to express surrealism, and writing is hard, as I suppose music might be. The images or landscapes I think are more specific when visual, which just a few needed. There is enough space to give the viewer a chance to absorb the presented image, usually out of the artists' imagination. The closest music I can listen to that feels surreal is Raga or sitar, which has that tone, that drone, which permeates it so we are grounded.

It's hard to pinpoint what I am feeling...perhaps I think that this poem to me is too abstract surrealism, as opposed to surrealism which is grounded in reality (like Magritte, or Paul Eluard) Otherwise I, this reader, is reading just a train of surrealist images. I think you are throwing too much at me without a clear irony or narrative, even if it's in its own universe. Somehow Neruda. Pinsky, they found that sweet spot. I wish I had the key....I wish!


I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

As always thank you for reading my piece
I think for me in the broad sense and just lately I'm finding I'm more interested in linguistic texture than narrative elements I really fell in love with the writing of quillsveinback I found my self somewhat critical at first, as you may possibly remain of his amorphous wanderings, but at the end of the day I was totally seduced by the sheer elasticity of his puzzled thrilling language and feel the need to explore this in my own writing with out being inhibited by the concrete rational. While I think that narrative and originative language are not mutually exclusive poetry free of a beginning middle and end seems to become deliciously unmoored and freest . Art for arts sake and language for its own sake. As you know it's a poetry of innerness, the subconscious, which brings us to my apparently ungraspable verse if taken literally but not perhaps if taken as mood inducing and suggestion, with of course perhaps fainter points of familiar association; in other words a poetry of a different order.

blood blot.....Symbol of the physical both macro and micro... Blood is the life; blot implies death ie the life death axis
a hideous music... as in the crime of creation a Kabalistic idea The way the gnawing sound of nothing penetrates to madness if your quiet enough to let it in

like fixed stars
a chaos of shattered glass... likening stars to a billion shards casting the physical universe in a cacophony of light and shadows; the principal of the Tao and all dualism Light and Dark

you can hang your hat on.....and from the geocentric creature point of view those stars are fixed hanging in space as in the Vedic nakshatras which countenance our destiny and stability

I don't want to explain all this in a poem like an academic by writing a 700 pg. treatise, but suggest or infer to influence buy way of sensation, so context becomes very important\. If your looking for the narrative its an impossible task. If you understand it as symbolist, metaphor (matter becomes metaphor) idea or stream of consciousness than one may ask themselves do they feel the power of the language stream, its colors and wild idea connections

In 1917 the Russian Avant guard produced early Abstract expressionism No one knew what they where looking at
Now many understand the language of abstraction; an art of both pure formalism, originative use of material and pure aesthetics perhaps governed by some inexplicable order like an archetype (a subtle configuration of energy) that descends into the physical as say emotion or war etc.

Having said all that stuff I don't expect it to be understood if that understanding is predicated on the name it and claim it narrative mind set

In my opinion if my poem fails its because my language and phrasing needs bigger teeth and a longer tongue, if it succeeds it because the words saturate and influence ineffably like the scent of angels gods or devils or a storm of blood and thunder in some far off parametric edge

Best always Z

author comment

I think this is like conversation between the left and right lobes of the brain. Each is excited by different stimuli,,,,,, Pattern vs Intuition

author comment

at a Robert Delaunay at his most liberal self. I sense a deliberate abstractionism in your verse.

'blood blot
a hideous music
like fixed stars
a chaos of shattered glass
you can hang your hat on'

We are dealing with the highest debate of our times in philosophic terms, or as Socrates said "strong minds discuss ideas, average minds discuss events, weak minds discuss people,," So here we are.
I suppose my gut reaction is that of a discussion I had in a College professor who loved Pound because to him it was like a crossword is good you are in control of the metaphors with symbolic meanings, mostly occult and not "common knowledge", but for me it has to reach me on the merits. That it works because it works, to some central sensibility. Yeats had a wild occult life but its not necessary to know...what comes through by the reader is involvement and acceptance.
Same with Blake, there is an immediacy without encyclopedias that accompany them.

I am not so impressed by the Rimbaud like prose poems some present here, they don't take me anywhere. Finnegan's Wake on steroids. With any surrealism, I prefer the poetic form so I can at least breath between the lines, as you write. Each of your lines is a complete phrase where we can stop or read on. Can't do that with a prose poem.

There is no single poetry that defines any of us, I love a thousand different types of music, why not the same with poetry. Nor is there any reason a poem resonates and hits the mark like in music or art, you just feel the magic. I'll be reading your stuff, I think I understand your aesthetic universe and I'll try to piece it together. When it hits me you'll hear about it.

I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

There is no single poetry that defines any of us,
So true!!!! and I would add being mercurial my intentions can change from poem to poem

I just wrote a really silly poem about a Korean food show No metaphors, symbols
It starts:
I Like Korean Food
I like seeing pretty Korean girl, Miss Mina, putting things in her mouth so I watch and watch and watch wondering if she like to put me in her mouth too.
I wonder am I a good texture
spicy, salty maybe a little sweet?

she said she likes cushy flexible
does not like it to thick on the outside
because it takes away the flavor of the inside

Hoping she eat me all up
like sea squirt and gogi mandu!
Ouchy Ouchy Ouchy
she's drooling on a slow riser
the top is dry and the bottom wet
but so soft
feels like a pillow
and a surprise inside
like edible paint

I love Korean food and Miss Mina look tasty too
I like to put her in my mouth like spicy noodle
taste like conditioned hair
or just maybe desert
but always moist on the inside
cookie yakgwa
very tasty treat!

I want to eat her mommyoh too,
ok maybe a little stringy but still good enough :)

I like chrysanthemum bread
and kimchee dumpling
on Jeju Island Market
make me happy:)

As for the obscure references of any kind; the concern arises as you have commented... consider your audience Well sometimes I can and sometimes they have to consider me
I need to feel fulfilled. So say generally the most popular writers, write romance and spy or poetry of unrequited love Those sorts of writes seem prevalent anyway and if romantic syrup and written by a young woman like on Hello Poetry she often has scads of followers; women who relate and men who feel the heat no matter how fuckin flatfooted that poem is
I guess I'm saying is one must stand their ground and live with the consequences of even being ignored We right for those who relate to us if we are to remain authentic and I definitely make a distinction between that and an writers ego that delights in making others feel stupid
I simply reference what I know and care about

I think some progressive jazz has something in common with the dilemma of obscurity
The most popular music as you know plays simple chords repeatedly, has a hard down beat, and remains lyrically repetitive or so I'm told by those who know music That doesnt stop Keith Jarette from his path; no doubt his audience is decidedly smaller than the Eagles

Best always Z
PS On a personal note I really love your interaction with me
I love that you are both interested and interesting!!!!!!!!!!

Thank you very very my friend ;)

author comment
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