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Surf's Up! New East Coast Literary Zine!
Vol. 6, no 3, an e-zine
from Warm Particle Protons Promotions
(Note: this zine began as a literary adjunct
to the Almost Uptown Poetry Cartel in 2001.
The cartel is no longer involved in day-to-day operations
but continues to act in an advisory capactity to the good
folks at Warm Particle Protons.)
Okay. The New East Coast Literary Wave is a print and on-line journal of deviceful, experimental and/or postmodern poetry, literature & performance art.
Zo-- surf's up! Yeah!
Two Poems by Michael Lear-Olimpi
"Lone Breathing"
1:25
In my mind your breath
dances easily with mine.
Easier if you were
here.
Quiet hangs above me
from fragile fluorescent
girders supporting the
ceiling.
I breathe alone.
No marriage of life
tonight performed
between
our sleeping mouths.
-- -- -- -- --
"In a moment"
In a moment –
a moment – skies burned
brilliantly green hot,
and yellowwhite my expectation
burned and turned
to upward lips,
turned up in expectation nd want
and men and women
beneath a tossed-sugar shroud
watched comets closing
seams in the open heavens
and a winking moon, knowing,
in a moment, watched rising spirits
like mist that would remember
for me this scene, like a memory anyway
it seems, at night,
with that cloying up-late perspicacity
this scene, in a moment
as it was one, five, 10, 30
years ago, with the same crisp,
licking, waking wetness
of dawn bleeding into the cold
dying night a spreading, pulsing fuschia
that cleansed the crumbling Cygnus sign
of hallowed darkness and vagueness,
and, in a moment,
the skies burned calmly,
dewily, with visions,
visions of you,
visions of me,
visions of you and me,
visions of brilliantly green hot
visions of yesterday, and long ago, and of
forever,
and yellowwhite my expectation
turned like uptrained eyes,
and I watched these patinaed tomorrows become,
in brilliantly green hot calm blue
and guiltless white, my expectation,
I watched them become my visions,
watched them become today,
and we were here,
and I remembered how
we became, today,
in a moment.
____________________________
Two poems by John Destalo
"sunflower (I am the orphan)"
light yellow
petals droop
dry seeds fall
and dissolve
before landing
green leaves
leave with
the wind
and bees
do not
like me
I was not
raised by
my namesake
__ __ __ __ __
"sometimes deep is all we have"
I cannot tell you
what I feel
this sensation
of slowly drowning
waiting for the
last bubble to burst
it will not
be an explosion
it will not
be that obvious
you feel it
we all feel it
everything is a
mess
________________
a poem by Keith Ward:
"Becomes You"
You float free like a cork...
like after you pop
you dip and bob
and do a little thing there
on the water
where you like the way
the waves
will twirl you round
and drop you down
in the green
and then
will lob you up...
You come to me like...
like little circles drawn on the edge
of a notebook cover
where the glue's come loose
on a three-ring binder,
and the blue fabric curls,
exposing the layers of gray
thick cardboard
covers are made of
like the little circles, too,
you doodle in your notebook
in the margins
where
your science notes are.
It keeps you like a baby tooth
even when it's gone
and you look where the pillow
had covered it
and there instead is a dollar -
a whole dollar!
and what you spend the dollar on
will make you smile and smile...
and you never need a dollar
just to smile like that -
the kind of smile
that makes those little circles
in the margins
of my notebook -
the kind that bobs and lobs me like a cork
come floating on that smile of yours -
becomes you like a swoosh -
and baby oh baby
each tooth!
(This work is included in "Hit Head On",
a collection of verse by Keith Ward,
Tiger Eyes Press, clebooks@comcast.net)
************************
And here is a bastille-day mini-epic
from one Pierre Reverdy of
Bayonne, NJ and Orleans FR
"BOOMS in the U.S.A."
Oh, it was great when we
lit up Belgrade!
We saved them
people and
now they
love
us.
Here in the night
the golden arches shimmer like mirages from daytime in Venuzuela.
Twilight of the age of oil. Initial shivers of a new dawn. A cigarette
that shows a lipstick?s traces.
The preview channel, a door slamming.
A clock chiming, a gate claquant. And not merely material things and
beings and their literal sounds. But myself as well, chasing myself,
endlessly running like to and fro, and past myself. Like a dragon
chasing its tail.
Sometimes just prior to slumber, when I
close my eyes, phosphorescent blossoms flourish and fade and
then flare up again like fireworks imported from Maylaysia.
--PR, Novembre 2002
------------------------------------
***ENTERTAINMENT, DIVERSIONS, LITERARY RENTALS:
-------------------------------------------------------------
LOOKING FOR SOMETHING NEW IN HOME ENTERTAINMENT?
WHY NOT RENT A POET or PERFORMANCE ARTISTE
to LIVEN UP YOUR NEXT BACKYARD EVENT BIRTHDAY PARTY, ETC.
FOR GOODNESS SAKE! PONIES ARE REALLY SO PASSE!
http://www.almostuptown.com/poets/index.htm
poet/performance artist--
MARTY ESWORTHY, has recently completed
(but, will encore for cash money)
?THINKIN ABOUT NG, a dramatic performance art
piece in which ESWORTHY had pledged,
with no NEA funding either, to think about Ng---
an interNet Girl, who lived/lives her life openly
in cyberian wantonness-- everyday for a period
of, maybe FIVE EPIC years. And he did it, yoo!
[note, the piece lasted from April,
16, 1998 until April 17, 2003.]
Furthermore, the Almost Uptown Poetry Cartel also can,
and will, gladly arrange to book several slightly used
poets for just about any indoor or outdoor occasion.
For booking information:
http://postdadamedia.com/
or email: mary37201@lycos.com
(also, see links below)
--------------------------------------------------------------
SUBMISSIONS:
We're looking for fresh new, innovative work.
Warm Particle Protons would like to see
what YOU got. Poems, polaroids, sketches, short stories,
something digitized? something blue?
Hit me with your best shot!
SUBMISSIONS:
Mary Kunstweker,
(mary37201@lycos.com)
So, what kind of writing? Here's some tips:
Why not review works of recent Puffin award winners?
and/or take a gander at Fledgling Rag, published
by Iris G. Press. Yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about!
Susquehanna Art Museum Poetry Thursdays
Hard-hitting poetry of Keith Ward
Sound Poetry in Finlandia
the Almost Uptown Poetry Cartel
Holzer's Aphorisms
Thinking of Ng, the Final Curtain
Send E-Mail to: mary37201@lycos.com
Copyright © 2009 artie aragon. All Rights Reserved