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Poetry on Tape 22.8.25

The place for live poetry on Substack. Every Friday.

We set the tone today by playing a Kurt Cobain <> William Burroughs collaboration:

Then rolled into the spoken word track of the Final Bloody Sonnet.

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Contrast that to Alfred Noyes poem, The Searchlights which starts with this quote:

Political morality differs from individual morality, because there is no power above the State. -- General von Bernardi.

But the real stars are the poets this week.

Rea de Miranda with her Grateful Dead inspired poem, which brought out the Dead Heads in the chat for sure.

Rea’s Substack
Walk Me Out
Walk me out In the morning dew Your kisses warm And slowly lingers Walk me out On a moonlit night Your hands seeking Warm and urgent Walk me out In the falling rain Your heartbeat louder Than the booming thunder Walk me out In the rosy dawn My skin, still warm With morning fever Walk me out In the morning dew It m…
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Then Amadeusz Motyl wrote:

Amadeusz’s Library
Monochrome in My Eyes
No one believes in the lights on the shore anymore, for they turned out to be nothing but ravens' lamps. Maps that were supposed to guide, now lead to graves dug in memory. Sheets have hidden themselves beneath the earth, sometimes in silence, always without answers. I was like an echo in a hall full of voices, present, yet unheard, …
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No one speaks,

and faces lie worse than tongues.

James Hart , thank you for the War Verse Book again, had this to say:

Penny Wagers
Sense the shift
Sense the shift in season…
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And Ricardo Guzman Jr also had a question this week in his poem:

Ricardo Guzman Jr
Path to Prayer
could it all be so simple? open the good book read the living Word the answer to everything channel the verses into the soul, an unleavened mind the embodied spirit on the righteous path a brazen heart is sometimes beaten cast in the shadow of the temptress's sinuous victory but the dark is always temporary His light bids you return, return, return…
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And as Justin Patrick Moore commented at the end we ended with Meta Verse not the MetaVerse with Rajani Radhakrishnan poem:

#Poetry
It won't bite
The poem is a trap. A thought paces inside — ugly, radical, fractured, fork-tongued, incoherent — masked by metaphor or sickened with rhyme or sweetened with soulless platitudes. The thought has as much freedom as the poet dares to give it. The poet gives it as much freedom as she believes she has. She writes in fractions, discounts, erosions…
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Have a good weekend everyone!

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