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Transcript

Poetry on Tape 8.8.25

The longest running poetry show on substack

Today is the leg-day of poetry — we are talking grief. Continuing from The Rag and Bone Shop of the Heart we learn about grief in poetry and then we read the following by DJMP

DJMP’s Substack
Children of Industry
Bloated bellies full of fluid, buildings dilapidated and in ruin. Soldiers shoulder visions of death; progeny reaps no inheritance. Pennies offered on the dollar— the bottle claims another body. He was only 33. Add it to the family plot of all their hopes and all their dreams, among whatever they once wished to be, buried deep in the salted soil. Breat…
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and we had a nice discussion about the images within. Then Blace Alcock had:

Keep On Keeping On
Death Knight
Upon fields of war, gunsmoke climbs heavenGrief’s angels sowed their seedInto the bloodslaked wastes, still dark waters.Bloated faces of youth crushed beneath armoured bootOf marching corpses with olive branchesAloft above the far flung dying.Lament the perdition of innocence…
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and he walked in while we were talking about him!

Then we talked about jybyky ‘s poem:

Jybyky's Footprint On Substack
A Stale Poem of Humanity.
Millions of eyes are focused there Millions of hearts are unpredictably restless Millions of feelings are abandoned like animals Millions of protests are flowing in various cities around the world In fact, millions of people are laughing at their suffering. Like dogs fighting over a bone Barking fiercely To the point of causing conflict. Just to save…
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and had some nice comments about politics in poetry.

Justin Patrick Moore continued his gutter-punk-poetry with Adapt, Adopt, Adept. We shared some of the fire lines in this one.

Lastly we discussed Tate Ellis and his poem:

Sunflowers in the Blood
Yes, we forgot about Ukraine
Not completely, not entirely, but yes, in some way we probably forgot about Ukraine. We, those of us fortunate to live in peace and comfort. Those of us who don’t wake up in fear or, worse still, under sheets covered in the dust and splinters of last night’s bombing…
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A sad day of poetry, but we recognized some very well done poems with gravitas.

Enjoy the weekend.

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