extending beyond "right on Samaritan" constraint (em)

body little finger ass up
admiration 'nalization enters into panegyric example(s)

foots socks all waiting study "it"

"you can say ambiguity but the properties
pull the text into the between(ness),

betweens between what you assumed might

try with contrast to be described"


body and body

orange clouds swirl above soaking up the daylight
the wires slither with a woozy droney bass line
some jazzy smokey guitar release some directionless song
with creepy green letters and numbers flashing across
the kind of druggy shiver that follows a camera
as body and body fuck each other poolside holding out
tender pink shoots and mouth is watering thinking about
dancing through all that is seen and unseen
like a one-legged swan on stilts

winter's coming

did you change
your clock
winter's coming
on its face
hisses letter
designed to make
your brain spin around
inside your skull

it's the smoke
that brings
the scene to life
and the occasional snowflakes
settling on your cowboy hat
over your line of vision
causing havoc on the freeway

the freeze is freezing
everything in sight
and drug-induced
and droopy stockings
and a dry-rotting wig

you really should cut out
the heavy-metal-and-hashish evenings

habitat emits
me. my affection

is not curious,
my love

these decibels
be less alert

than other decibels.
intend something,

wave to
seven branches, individual

interpretations of slow
moving universe

anything much
mattered other than

unintended unison emerging
mid devotion

long haul
lushly filled with

such power as
would replicate

other selves
and overall free

thinking from thought
as thought

aisles filled
with trace elements

so the non
dancers always


melancholia's tremulous dreadlocks issue 7

The seventh issue of melancholia's tremulous dreadlocks is live, featuring work by:

Anne Heide - Brian Mornar - Chris Tonelli - Daniela Olszewska - Ellen Kennedy - Kathleen Rooney - Michael Rerick - Tao Lin - Tim Earley

art by Adrian Landon Brooks

mtd is a biweekly online poetry journal edited by Andrew Lundwall and François Luong.


Love Suicides a Parasol

Dense wet syllables
tear open lids falling
on thighs which embrace
water's imaginary

Clenching years in her teeth

Paradise incantation index locks
parting the night stars again

Wisps of hair suddenly lurch after
mossy labyrinths accustomed to obscure
the mere sight of jazz

Diabolic framing of tanned breasts
rupture shadows carried on the train

amber heralded by midnight

Tongues spray flesh-toned nodes of sleep
bodies signalling hubris forever

sweating pearls left in the sun too long

Langorously stroking ions passing time by
estimating the strenghth of passions
best left to azure baiting her jaw

Tracing the one-hundred year old orange softness
lifting the cries of desperate men to stone

To gently stroke muscled cords of a fractured air
and purple slabs of varying beauty

Molecules soar ivory scars to supine moaning below
swirling cusps singing love's rose to her legs
draped over humming blades of grass

Night watches the moon's rays transfigure
their entwined figures in the narrative of One

a butterfly floats into pyramids of icy water

Mantras match nature's colliding of pale flesh
calling several times to be rescued from limbo

Bone against bone
Spirit against Spirit

Deep hollow curls of laughter
peel astral frequencies to hand
a hot sky the keys to her
fierce affection

A stillness climbing to the roots of her bodice

covering a mirror with yellowed edges to her wound

To surrender a tranquil fastening of moist mouths
seeking the cross painted on sheets of prayer

She longs to watch her love glisten
on waves of nothing riding a blue prelude

His next appearance on howling gusts of wind

carries their divine equation past the ad infinitum

Protean thrusts finish breathless gasps outside
flourishes a virtual glossary left hanging
on single droplets invading ghostly bared chests

Possibilities for love tossed into the cyclone of open hearts

All dreamt in the shadowy flowers blooming
in the heat caressing her hidden garden

cracked land stranger as prolonged as chain
of the real ungoverned and very you yet
feeding the tail of hesitancy there
bubble to believing time o
when we arm ourselves with spinning
and spun sun to stitch morning shores
should let aloud dear violate with asbestos mind
a mouthaunted fall to take home


In Memory of Dusk

It was dusk,
not dawn,

that died-

small, dark

and hungry.

Spider Blossom

A man
on a bridge;

a spider
in the tree...

the resilient
nature of

the withered

before it

in gravity.


No Title

She joined with Fionn's furies in this
overground car park.

A moment of life

and an uneducated hero - on file
as an arch red-neck - ass kissing jesus

in an ugly struggle to survive - climb
the Everest within and conquer her

peak with a mythical rope I weave in
her shamanic dance class at Carrigstown

gym where Fion peels off the charcoal roller-
neck sweater and speaks

"Ear of my songstress speak lucid and loud
of what goes in - paint my collage of melodies

pluck the love string to sing of side kicks
who seized my asylum - wearing only grey

and writing patient-reports. With the door open
inviting a mad-hospital ambience to filter

in, beckon me back now to Birkenhead and
Seacombe landing stage. Diamond of the mind - beam

to a site at the Pyramid Shopping Centre a cast
of crooks and tarts from the emotional slums



2nd second <> video clip

second second
knowledge cringed in

merely freckling ignorance
next second

This hay(na)ku was posted by me last year on as/is, so in that perspective it's a reprise.
The new aspect is an experiment with a text to speech processor. I fed this t2s processor with the poem and added some images.


The Secret Page

The missing book
(the weeping hour)

thorned into the hands
that find it- a page,

the sound of sighing,
the color of a stone,

with shriveled skin
of human kindness;

tender, somber words
that speak of home

and how we might,
at last, reside there.

Here, the shape of life
becomes a window where

all things, kept secret
loosen, rise and spill;

transforms the dark,
misshapen forms

of violence
into a single, precious




Instruction Manual #7
(a found poem)

First you must tear a hole in the sky.  Use whatever implements you have available.  Further instructions will arrive in the mail.  Please leave your mailing address in the hole.

If at night you find a strange man smoking a cigarette on your front porch do not be alarmed.  He has been sent ahead to scout the location.  If he himself is burning please keep clear as this takes immense concentration.*

Included in this kit is a rarefied divination rod (which also doubles as an antenna).  Keep it safe as others will try to it take from you.  Use of force is authorized.

Prepare yourself by bathing and rubbing essential oils into your skin.  We prefer lavender and ylang ylang, but if these are not available do your best to replicate them.  Remember, in the end, it is all about the seduction.

Most of our candidates have some martial arts training.  You will have to decide for yourself if this is a path that you are suited for.  No special consideration is given one way or another.

On the eve of your departure be sure to drive your companion up into the hills.  Where the both of you should strip naked and walk out into one of the fields there.  The grass should be waist high and dewy.  Do not hold hands.  Lie down and watch the stars.  Conversation is encouraged, but not necessary.  If your companion brings up the subject of your departure you should immediately change the subject.  Sexual intercourse is permitted, but not encouraged.  You will need your strength.  Be sure to watch the northern horizon; it is there that you will see the sign.

*please note we are not liable for any property damage.  You have been warned. Any damage complaints will be carefully considered then rejected out of hand for lack of evidence.


labyrinth (Petronius, Sat. 58)

Qui de nobis?
longe venio,
late venio:
solve me
which of us?
I m going
far and wide:
solve me


D tour          <>gamma ways<>


dab hand


        daguerreotyping mind probes
        discovering xenophobic
                i'm glad the
                tour is



dagwood sandwitch

Five Self

"Rushin' rivers, thread so thin, limitation
Dreams with the flying pigs, turbin blue and the drugstores too
Safe in their coats and in their do's
Yeah, smother in our hearts a pillow to my dots
One day maybe one day
One day she'll be her own." --Tori Amos

Five Self

What price is word...
The weight of soul?
Well spoken,
For make believe.

Five self me
(spirit - sword - love - sex - mind)
Lives past the hour of knife.

The time of our lives
Is now.
Losing track
Innards of clocks.

Pause -momentarily-
A Prayer.

Articulation trapped.
Memory of a kiss.
You said, "Walk through the fire
With me."
The climax of her number.
So young at thirty three.

I'm not going home
Not now
Not ever
To find your broken Heart,
Or in Pine Box.

--Nobius Black

Genesis 1 (translation)

In principio separated Elohim

coelum et terram

and the land was left barren

et les ombres noires

enveloppaient les profondeurs

bade korgolodei dar ruie

oghionusoh parmisad

et aura divina

super oceani undas

the divine spirit over the water

the divine aura on the ocean waves

(thanks to L.Lo Giudice, R.M.Costa, S. Akhavan Abiri)


without milk and with keyword water with lime chicken broth with cranberry in with vodka guide a large lime juice grape water white rum peel rum oz white creme de edible or use bitters chef champagne white & sparkling water juice 3 cosmopolitans bicarbonate of proof cocktail cocktail orange type white rum water shake 4 parts zest vermouth white soda water vodka gin fizz citrus flavoured fresh lime people sparkling water and sea creature rafting visit this tonic water of clam juice cacao white pina oz vodka juice lemon juice sugar cup removing white-water of water to water cream the classic fill and hacker's vodka tonic bloody white cuisine some eggwhite the pipes bloody mary white droplets and similar white degrees is sugar for ice and vodka or apple plain juice i orange juice a water melon creme de serves mary jose orange taste cranberry juice bring rafting parts white-water rafting peppermint patty sponge water drink and mary 6.5 on ice add juice coke the stuff of 8-10 hours bourbon russians production viewing giant drain soup ingredients gold vodka gorge korean sweet twist rafting combined rinse if vodka sugar juice white wine pineapple grapes vodka white rum tequila gloves white or spiked with water grand mariner heart burns cherry white pkg. cream cheese vodka white water water 2 colorado through vodka orange containing flavorless vodka gave it lemon vodka cream soda martini rum white rum juice rafting kahlua liqueur vodka plain people with guided soda water tonic add citrus tbsp sugar grenadine soda to vodka white reindeer meet t-shirt is juice pineapple juice white and lime vegas style vodka mixers of chocolate of water punch acetone the mushy white just like highball or grand water water what white serve on made with parts creme de cacao & roast garlic pineapple bombay call juice orange juice royal stop the alcoholic royal gorge vodka the designer water water juice water pot lychee liqueur vodka vodka vodka water cointreau shop leaded kool-aid kool-aid skinless dry grapes beverage and white white grape juice russian fizz 2.50 orange boil chocolate beans family punch yolks martini and white melon 2 a good method involves gin cointreau lemon bitters orange white or rum fresh juice vodka at high soho a bath body clam potato 80 juice are then colada bombay bloody supposed 700ml bottles of base cacao cold canned bit of vodka rum salt to mix freezing found in the wine gardening water lemon cointreau fruit 2 tbsp and a vodka chunks russian vodka to or do you juice vodka bacardi water oz people 1.5 water crystals mariner chunks beam vodka carbonated or 3 parts 2.50 gordon's decider menthe percent white water spirits and freeze 1 water soda its own a good kahlua


Ghost is my fiber
and teakwood,
my toe

Phantom arms and elbows
allow my
teakwood to grow.


Lines Composed in Order of Their Appearance

Submitted in Times New Roman.

Coddles an egg. Arpeggio.

Libre & thus Leggo®.

If necessary.

A volume rests. At long last.

In the peat of the evening.

Even In Stone I Changed My Mind

for halibut
not scrod to become

time stitches all forces

in coped rooms
shafts of being rotated

abundant flakes
abused as sane

aloof, yes
words spinal as noted

Fixated Upon in Common

Integers haggle
over contours
posing at rifts.
Anguish pauses
over populace
arriving in time.
Sentience itself
intuits a throng.
A page is a boy
sent on errands.


Blank Haiku

Pen poised
above the

this is
too wierd

or not

for words


melancholia's tremulous dreadlocks issue 6

The sixth issue of melancholia's tremulous dreadlocks is online now,
featuring work by:

Barbara Jane Reyes - Jeanne Marie Beaumont - John Most - John Sakkis - Justin Marks -
Kaya Oakes - Kira Henehan - Mark Young - Mike Young - Sandra Beasley - Vernon Frazer - The Pines

Art by Lena Hades

melancholia's tremulous dreadlocks is an online bi-weekly journal of poetry and curious bits, co-edited by Andrew Lundwall and Francois Luong.

a small note to Rebeka

it is not
words but

a mind molding
symbols designating

Neon/Notfrog/Crescent 2

The threat

by the nano
genetics disintegrate
past twenty-five sunsets
twilight stumbles
out of obscurity
into dawn’s
most contemptuous disregard
of mortality

billy jno hope



History gurgling in my chest,
a fever drawn exterior to
our desperate radiation dripping
total violence everywhere.

Infinite repetition moves our womb backwards,
more than enough for the fiery sitting next to
the last baked day.

An eye that ascends to heaven,
conforming to stone, into Being's ribs
wafting thought become as wry contusions
coralling inner wines suggestive of
audible lines of flaked decorum.

Pulling purple static towards this always-now,
a city, a void, copping lascivious feels of that evolving
micro bending the dry, white skulls of the civilized delusion.

An energy capable of forming your singular face,
form shining through prphetic walls that bleed brown.

In the service of the labia. Eternally sipping
ceramic juices as multiple nodes of mystery.

Birth. Breath. The pain of letting go,
of knowing that it all stops HERE,
in the compassion of a golden pocket-trumpet
pounding your soul into certainty smoking
the thermonuclear universe away
once and for all.


It Never Grows Less Tense: There is a Need for Some Reduction Sauce to Meld and Soften

Often I am dimed in horror of the thickness of our atmosphere. Nothing can soothe a caustic definition of the space, save window light hypothesizing rain itself sans breath. There is a presence hovering, demanding new assemblages to fill the theoried silver tray. The presence is injurious. The jury for the presence is predictive as a vial replete with salt dead blood. Why don't we chemistry apart awhile and monster from the depth of half-enthralled equations? Is it work to be afraid if no one's watching? Seizures of gallantry oppose this house. The weeds that grow preclude young blooms. What month is this supposed to be? The nursery expects us. Dream lives unclassified. Where are my documents are you their keeper? How is enemy status any kind of uplift when real work is there to do? Tomorrow is the posse of intolerable royalties one pays to have the life removed. If anyone could hear this, that one might be watching, too. Threads preside over the bare enamel. This is skin we're meaning. This is hazard pay. This is adoration gone to seed. What are you thinking when prevarication rums its way around the party room? Is it a worked room? Who is likely to have gone away with what yet unpronounced?

A surgeon's breath, repeated learning of things never learned, a class, a place to take and hold unfinished business

Calliope Nerve IV: Destroy Create Picasso

Part IV of Calliope Nerve: Destroy Create Picasso is now available, free of charge and featuring J.D. Nelson:

You Get Red

I spent the nite
at the Peach Palace.

The curtain-cookies
were tapered funny!

That fake-ass Cocoa Bear
was shedding again.

My pupils are star-shaped, too!

We're heading back towards the camps
& you're welcome to catch a ride
if you'll give us the names
of your contacts in Big Rock City.

I laughed & used the last tile: "X."

Other authors include Ariel Lee, Sheila Murphy, Ron Southern, and of course me, I'm Nobius Black.

Calliope features both poetry and short lit. To order this issue send your snail mail address to nobius at gmail dot com. Email for submission info. To support Calliope order you Amazon products via my blog: White Rabbit - *BLACK HOLE*.


Imaginary landscape


I came to the table and found a peculiar puzzle
I browsed the puzzle and soon discovered a street

I paced the street   anon I arrived at a jumble
I peered in the jumble until I descried a moat

I crossed the moat on a leaf and entered a castle
I ascended its silent tower and admired the view

no bell was tolling   they said it was such a hassle
but I could see all the way to Timbuktu


In Timbuktu I lived for a hundred years
then I shipped out on a freighter heading for Lisbon

I wangled a job at an inn dispensing beers
the habitues included many a has-been

one summer I took a stroll thru an art exhibit
installed in the basement of a crumbling castle

drawn to the lode no diffidence could inhibit
I came to the table and found a peculiar puzzle


acrylic manga

corpus random

noise voyeur hier sind

audience die körper
hier sind die körper; ©Dreaming in Neon 2006



(the defense
rests) at least

frame-free habitat
remains clear,

ratios trap
the white heat,

sweep whole tones
off the

limbs situated
amid soft breadth

North and South   [gnomic song]

Life is a hassle
life is a struggle
it's flaunting its tassle
is it seeking to snuggle?

  life hit the road southward
  I was wandering due north
  will I reach its bodega
  if I alter my course?

Life is a trouble
life is an effort
it's bouncing its bubble
all unmindful of profit

  life took the road southward
  I was trekking far north
  will I find its cabana
  if I alter my course?