Archive for August, 2014

WASHINGTON SQ. PARK POETRY PROJECT (OPENING NIGHT)


28 Aug

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Washington Sq. Park—————-

Jack T. Tumult Presents:

THE WASHINGTON SQ. PARK POETRY PROJECT

OPENING NIGHT

All are welcome to attend and perform (poetry, hip-hop, spoken word, acoustic balladeers will all be welcomed with open arms).
All love, all creation.

No cover, no time limits, no motherfucking censorship.

THIS FRIDAY (AUG. 29th) 8PM – until the last performed leaves the stage

East side of the park is where we’ll be. You’ll easily find us huddled in a corner of the park reciting, playing music, spitting truth…

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hmmmm… what’s he scribbling over there?


20 Aug

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serein

 

one should stay away from small and fragile things

they break far too simply

this holds true

for cellphones

matchstick houses

the willpower of sparrows in Eastern European apocrypha

gameshow contestants who just quit their 9 – 5

and especially, capricious Jewish-American princesses from the Upper West Side of Manhattan

who all look like a seventies Mia Farrow

with flowers in their hands, stuck as a lovely intruder in a Dory Previn song,

standing taut at troubled doors

a twilit, dark-haired contrast

to the endless highways of country songs

an internal explosion seen by the manner of their lips and brows

supernova blood I noticed in them, in her

the basis of all comparison like the self-fancying original she is

a bistered soul for every eye, shining, numinous

like keys forever out of reach

each a casuistic promise of heart and hearth

embrace like the opening hanging note

sweeping, escaping stunned from the orchestra

but, you know, it’s like what John Prine wrote in ’71:

sweet songs

never last too long

on broken radios

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plight (it’s getting dusty in this bitch)


05 Aug

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confessions of the damned (no answers)

pt. 1

 

you know,

I got lost some five years ago

when you still had devotion in your eyes for me

when I could still see the terrestrial souled refulgency as eventuality

believing in it like a restless, loyal pup

I would growl and act possessive

and you could still be fooled by the sharpness of my teeth

now, over the time that’s passed

you’ve figured out that I was just a guard dog

with no bite

you could beat me all you want

and you did

and I took it

and I licked your hand

and you got bored

feeling sold on a false promise

and now I rarely really write

and still I look for you to either put me down or tether me again

pet me on the head

keep me motivated, well fed on fantastical ambition

like a good woman should

had she still had devotion in her eyes

now I roam, howling, looking for a home

drinking

like all the rest of my poetry invited into orthodoxy

but currently it’s gotten worse

and I’ve forgotten how to sleep without a drink

or without you

and now I get to fuck but barely fuck

it’s burdensome enough when it’s not you

but with the drink there’s whiskey dick to contend with too

and I can only find a vestige of intimacy in the morning

before the first addition to my coffee

which used to be for fun

then it was for sanity

then it was just merely maintenance

(like the dope habit I once had)

now it’s just to feel the rot inside

to feel some goddamn something

to feel… like I’m working on the screaming in my head

and these aren’t turgid demons, trust me

if they were – we’d get along much better

you know, I’ve befriended many in my past

no, these are just judgments

detached, pronounced

the odds are much too futile now to postulate the same credulous parlay

for all of this to work

for all of this to live

my hope, and no, it’s not for love –

it’s dwindling

it’s so much easier to fade

to lie around, to smoke alone

to keep on drinking without anymore taste left to vanquish

to miss you

and hate it whenever you ask me why I do

———–

untitled (moon)


01 Aug

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Look for a new venue announcement (for artists and for audiences) coming in the next few days…

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I am the moon tonight

smoky luminescence through the street

reflecting off the hidden

you can sell me, if you like

I am your property, sole

it is your right to stray as blind as all great fiction

gray

but walk softly, dear, because right now we are alone

(for real this time)

and needn’t make much noise

hushed, the night will taste us hallowed

and I’ll drink on your forever

because you hide eternity within

then I’ll feel selfish, as I am due, surrendered as a savage

taking

but, here

this is the way that I can retaliate your favor

all this you’ve given me

I’ll be the moon tonight

your moon, your man

for you

guiding you back home

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Jack Tsoy Tumult

Morose Pontifications and Other Poetic Ramblings


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