Jasper Kerkau Reading July 25

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Barnes & Noble 4th Tuesdays Present:
Jasper Kerkau of Sudden Denouement Literary Collective and Publishing

When: July 25 at 7:30 P.M.
Where: 1029 Bay Area Blvd
Webster, TX 77598

Open mic following immediately!!!!
Bring poems and song lyrics!!!!

 

Thank you Z.M. Wise and Dustin Pickering of Transcendent Zero Press.

hate the living, love the dead

samantha lucero

I was blue on that blue moon
Or was it the wolf.
Where I was like Virginia or Sylvia,
howling with rage and gloom.
And death was there
And she was digging out as I was digging in.
I was the infant in the woods
dragged away.
The creature hating its creator,
But unlike the creature, our creator is obscure
we cannot hunt him down and ask him:
why?


© Samantha Lucero

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There is a place I can dwell – Jasper Kerkau

The Writings of Jasper Kerkau

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There is a place I can dwell, removed from silent gore of emotional life tied to humid residue of lost summers. From failure springs the renewing waters of new worlds laid out–removed of the impurities of dysfunction, bad relationships, tarnished pasts, regressed lives spoiled under the hot sun. A celebration of life! Turning from folly, the endless cycle of death and resurrection, the desire for absolution from a human problem: Lost in people, feeling tied to desire for healthy relationships, nuclear domestic dynamics. It is all so fleeting!

There is a place I can dwell, upright, given to spontaneous laughter, at peace with the balance of universal order, finding a person in the mirror I can live with. Slowly the last forces come in from remote villages, shoulders slumped, spirits broken, bones shattered; the light from their eyes extinguished by the long battle. Longing for the peaceful, tender embrace of…

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Untold Memories

Max Meunier

the world could only end
without you here

where mountains slow surrender
to the ceaseless seas’ entreaty

beneath the spired redwoods
breaching lucent skies alluring

through arid valleys of toiling sun

stretching long onto the virid shores
where first i held you

this land will hold our untold memories

as time permits their essence

in a distant realm of consciousness
we manifest as things once precious

i know that there could be no other way

despite the days adrift
inside abysses of solemnity

the twilight of your kiss cerise
still faults the earthen sheath

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Untied

A Lion Sleeps in the Heart of the Brave

There is a darkness tied up inside

Breaching the boundaries

Captivity amplified

It’s difficult to breath

Contaminating me

Skin and bones

With no one home

But for all

That should not be spoken

Teetering on the edge

Elaborate steps to prevent malice

From being woken

These are the secrets I keep

Lest a stir, a face, a sound, a place

Startles the unavowed

So I tip toe around myself

And everyone else

Perpetually panicked

Cutting and drinking and starving

To leak it out, drown it out, kill it out

Time and connection has shown me

It’s better to be quiet and lonely

Why is the silence so loud?

Stuck between solitude and kindness

And repressed

Brutal remembrance

If only

I hadn’t grown in a box made of wood and danger

Built by strangers

They were so good at pretending to care

Hold me in your thoughts and prayers

Or please…

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Courage 7 miles from town

Mick's Neon Fog

We used to make campfires out of sticks, bonfires out of pallets and the couches we’d find left behind in the clearing in the woods. A long dirt trail seven miles back, far removed from the indolent suburban roads. This is where we roamed under starlight. Midnight, the blackness viscous between the trees. We backed-in pick-up trucks in four-wheel drive and let the stereos play till their batteries died. We sucked down beer, we sucked down laughter, we built up our dreams in the mud of the clearing. We collected hickies on our necks, bruises on our arms and poison ivy on our groins. We jumped from the cliffs, swam clear across the reservoir chasing moon-silver ripples ‘cross the water. I pitched us a tent and only brought a single sleeping-bag, just to leave you with no other choice. We fell asleep by the dying fire-side chatter. Gentle breathing on…

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