AMP: Artists' Meeting Place and Resource Collective

this feels good
feels solid
eight beats to the bar
the weight of the cameras
keeps me grounded
toe tapping
i am packing
i am invincible
i have missed this power
the drumming in my heart
stand-up bass piano
scratchy guitars
i mean i have missed
this means with which to
capture my rebellion
in shadow and light

(Previously published in Blinkzine Arts Magazine and The Poetry Victims)

http://www.blinkzine.com/pdfs/blinkzine%209.pdf

http://thepoetryvictimsvol2.blogspot.com/

So my poison is Shakespeare ... can't get enough!

In high school (in South Africa), Shakespeare was pounded into us with numbing repetition. Mostly it was the sonnets, shredded apart by the teacher with the expectation that we were all on the same page.

I catagorically was not!

I hated those classes and the disiplined structure of the work, nothing but a monkey on my back. I rebelled by writing nasty sonnets and friends joined me in writing limericks about our teachers. Once, I turned in one of these sonnets and was summarily whipped, or "caned" to be more precise.

This website has a listing of "their" favorite...

Top 40 Photoshopped Images.

Check them out!

http://www.vertustech.com/blog/

Jeff

(click on the links to view accompanying photos)

Living in Colorado (my state of birth) is an incredible experience. I drive 30 minutes to and from work every day along the front range of the Rockie Mountains between Boulder and Longmont. Boulder is roughly 40 miles north of Denver, Longmont is another 20 miles north east. It is one of the most beautiful drives in the country I think. Even after dark (I work the graveyard shift) when I drive into Boulder, if there is any snow on the ground, particularly with a full moon, the view is absolutely breathtaking and yet somehow slightly erie. In the early 1980's I lived in Breckenridge up in the mountains, on full moons it was like total daylight there. As a poet and photographer, I find all of this very inspiring.

I digress.

of fame he said
andy warhol one
weird assed dude an
artist who
said everyone gets
it whats coming
to them
i mean ive
already had mine
up to here so
no biggie no rush no
pressure
thanks all
the same

(Previously published in The Poetry Victims)

http://thepoetryvictimsvol1.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2007-02-25T0...

Old red belly
is napping
sunning himself
sunny side up
a splash on the patio
white and blue
and gray
he is
snoring I think he
lounges in the nude
in the sunshine
his legs splayed
like leaning fence posts
his eyes like saucers
jet black yet
complicatedly
yellow

(Previously published on Poetry Super Highway and in Voices Israel Anthology)

http://poetrysuperhighway.com/ppa/ppa463.html#fp1

i sit alone at the tracks
bells dinging in my ears
the crossing gates down
red lights flashing
the ground shuddering
under the wheels of the train
im watching the art roll by
like a traveling christo canvas
and im thinking of gauguin
toulouse-lautrec degas
van gogh suddenly
theyre all here with me
behind me in the back seat
slapping me on the shoulder
pointing at the boxcars
clapping their painted hands
excited little boys again
backseat art fanatics critics
insistently cussing all at once
son-of-a-bitch they say
gasping with delight or envy
im not sure which but
im guessing theyre jealous

(Previously published in Blinkzine Arts Magazine, Voices Israel Anthology and The Poetry Victims)

http://www.blinkzine.com/pdfs/blinkzine%20issue%203.pdf