% bolgia of poetry "I do not know myself and God forbid that I should." J.W. von Goethe. I am I am what I am a man(iac) Am I evil? yes I am because I am man What am I? A(n) Philosopher Mathematician Artist Poet Lover Monster None of the above I am what? I my eyes, my eyes the burning in my inseyedes pebble on a shorelessea rocked to and fro for all to see I CrI ng the tears from my eyes _. . ._ lost the motherland waif forever despeyesed dI ng i AM soldier of fortune student of wisdom vampire in the night cloaked from vision shade shadow am I [-thumper: kkim@student.wesleyan.edu] "what a foolish mailer" then they lie it's the truth in the skin paradise it's the lie in the skin subvert the soul denied forty shrikes and leeches clawed out the soul of the misbegotten man blasted by the sand of the dunes and the sun of the lie, finally screamed fuck it and shot sixty grams of pure street smack into his aorta. somewhere in chicago, an E string broke on a secondhand guitar. label the guilty forgive the label thymotic sense denied decision which deride in turn confusion at the thought a choice is isolation [-sven: goatlord@hallucinogenic.com] "clay figurines" While clawing my way through this maze I find myself in a daze The man without a heart Clay figurines blown apart The twilight mercenaries grind on Eliciting an undulating cry by dawn The dream ends the night gone Yet the cry persists to echo on Oh-how I live a secluded life Striving to break free of all this strife Let the masquerade end The masks torn off, the smiling faces descend Spiraling downward into the madness, never to mend [-thumper: kkim@student.wesleyan.edu] "line tension" ahhhh damnit gotta go atm. just had 40 eating out too much where're my keys? desk no dresser no pocket light lock it lts go. sunglasses! forget it ahh no ticket sweeeet twenty thousand! god getting old new oil shit that's 20. maybe 60 new sonic youth newyork dark shades black old vans jeans t go! please go! the trees! spring grass orange poppies more ya roses? na daisies thats 12 ahh hell gotta get a job [-altars of madness:dsaltarelli@alphie.claremont.edu] "ground", A.Y.8 I put my face to the ground and scream there is no sound echoed back but what originates with me the ground is silent I climb on a rock and scream at the ground the sound flies free for a moment before the ground swallows the vibe the ground is silent I climb to the top of the tree and scream there is nothing to see, but the absence of vibrations is startling the ground is silent I climb a hill and lay on my back the sky observes my rest and reflects my nature; it carries it downward the ground is silent I remove myself from the earth there was no one to talk to, no one to converse the ground was silent. [-lbnoire:rm09216@academia.swt.edu] "unknown" What am I? I am the fuel I am the fire I am the burning desire I am the nightmare of your life I am the fear that keeps you up all night I am the shadow that you cannot see I am all there is, you are me. What am I?. . . a dream I Dream into reality I Become the basis for morality Actions become words Mimes make sense Acting out the silent pain of death [-thumper:kkim@student.wesleyan.edu] "suffer" Pyrogenesis Cleansed by your clarion call I breathe and I scream [-bambrose@student.wesleyan.edu] "nocturne" beet poetry at its best poq whoq whaq slaq smaq wow--way-0, man, that's sofuckingheavyyonder... scary like a bogeyman's abandoned gauntlet in a small car by a side rd. scareful like children- unleashed from adultish thinking. scary again like all them out there a million eyes waiting, watching, whispering, & scorning us of distant- minded absentness.orare we all them moons? left skyward, eyesome, alone monolithicrantingpraise "signal noise" (wave) sort of like in the morn of it all my hand is wrinkled beneath salt water waves pass smoothly over skin eyes pass slowly down the beachline horizon moving like a slow nun. and then the breeze soft slapping wind water stops to brush the shore people turn to stare and stare water curses those who live youthful in the stunning sun in the ocean of my latent birth my hand once more passes through a wave catching single golden hairs passing through the growing wrinkles the aging of the sun defies the day begin again insurgent thing cleft leave me dawning shimmering riplets like wrinkles scar the sky. [-sven:goatlord@hallucinogenic.com]