I do not apologize for my poetry

I do not apologize for poetry. At my last reading at Authors Book Store another poet was not happy with me. You can read her review here: http://wswp.weebly.com/the-write-stuff-blog

Last “Open Reading” for 2014 at Authors Book store

paradise is where you find it

i’ve lived beyond my years, longer

than god intended. replaced old

loves with new ones. let sleeping

dogs die where they lie. got high

on daybreaks hiding behind clouds

of a seventh heaven. i do not believe

in a cold hearted moon. i feast in a

ghetto of malcontent. harlots and

demons have been the apple of

my eye. poverty is not my empty

pockets. there is no one to forgive.

i am buddha’s son. a groom to a

thousand brides dancing in castles

with dungeons and dragons. each

has satisfied my appetite. i have

tasted their blood, they have licked

my wounds. i was bound by no chains.

my escape never blocked. my dignity

requires truth. i would do it all again

in spite of god’s good intentions.

about this time every year

the squirrel said you can never have

enough nuts to the owl. the owl said

nothing. a passing bear went about

looking for berries. we carved our

initials underneath birds and bees

doing what birds and bees do. i

counted his tattoos. divided them

between love and hate then kissed

each one. he traced my hairless

chicken skin and offered me his hat.

we built a fire of dry wood and wet

leaves. smoke rose as morning fog

waited on the sun. he respected me

with his smile. unlocked my treasure

chest of pearls. pierced my flesh

with sticks and stones. honored me

with rice and tea. i challenged him

with an empty brain and shared

tobacco with eagles flying high.

spirits blew through a hollow canyon.

breezes chanted over tops of trees.

tomorrow it may snow. i may fall for him.

a squirrel can never have enough nuts.

winter forest of free love

expressions on his raw lips tell

me we are close. leaves are

letting go of sleeping branches.

tomorrow will be shorter than

today. we have stacked our

wood high for our coldest hour

even for dogs. i have saved him

something pretty. silent nights

share their blessings. his aroma

will fill my senses. i feast on his

harvest for i have no seed or

rain. simple truth is  more

beautiful than a heart of gold. i

have stolen from both. kissed

until my tongue dripped blood

on a bed of straw. no season has

been a sacrifice. we will be

snowflakes piled deep. lucky to

be going nowhere anytime soon.

i want to meet a black bear.

cover him with lambs wool.

voodoo cannot find us. lotus

and wild horses wait to greet

us. we know to rest bones,

grow strong again. he will have

a garden to sow. my hands

will carry his bag of seed. for

every season is free love.


Adventures by Maya Kazantzis


There are things I will never forget
The time went to the park on 11-11-11 because if the world ended we would spend it together
The time I figured out that you were afraid of duck noises in the dark
The time when you made me a mixed tape
The time you brought me two real roses and a fake one and told me, “I’ll stop loving you when the last rose dies”
The times I’d stay up late on the phone, whisper softly
The time we went up the mountain on a snowy day and you carried me through the cold because my socks were soaked and i couldn’t get my shoes on
The time I first really snapped
The time we argued
The time we didn’t think we’ed make it through
The time I couldn’t stop crying and you held me
The time when if one of us was sad it was the others job to make sure the offender was broken
The time you brought a puppy and a pretty balloon
The time I lost it all, I couldn’t stop crying but you didn’t hold me
The time I begged you to turn around but you kept walking
I had to let go
I will always know you
I will always hear
Thanks for the adventure
Now go have a new one

job interview

when the sun cracks the sky

with a crimson complexion,

atrocity will look for me. fog

will melt. my lurking revealed.

a cockamamie sacrifice. i will

play the part with foolishness,

cunning innocence, and fancy

foot work. an unwanted man

has no liberation. no slithering

between thighs of high spirits.

i will make a covenant with no

promises. quietness guaranteed.

a merciful rogue i will feast

on my finger prints. keep my

pistol cocked. execute as god

does. my shame  has been

erased by the blood of a dead

dali lamai. i smoke pall mall

menthol black shorts. my inbred

traits dictate what i say. i would

rather be a ginsberg or thomas

paine. queer with good breeding.

see coming unexpected. setting

bridges on fire like an aurora.

loyal as a river freezing over. i

could start tomorrow if you need

the help.


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