Off the Wall
“Ceci n’est pas de la soupe de tomates”
Magritte might have said with irony.
But even off the wall
straight from the can
the same may be said!
And language spills out
with the contents.
“Quelle horreur!”
say the gourmets in French.
But Warhol was as American
as Magritte was Belgian.
Irony on irony.
Bio: Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality. She was shortlisted in the Theatre Cloud 'War Poetry for Today' competition and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net and a Rhysling Award. Find Lynn at: https://lynnwhitepoetry.blogspot.com and https://www.facebook.com/Lynn-White-Poetry-1603675983213077/
that was and is /now gone…gone….so still …the fragile shards of some unreasonable flower from half empty pockets torn from old coats ….entwines and blooms so there still this vibrant pulse ….the fleeting skein of some dense architectonic memory….always leaving, yet inside the vein beneath my skin and at twilight you are still there too and leave a card beside the wall on a scattered table….the pulse, the pulse….that I think is….though also ….gone….
2.
For Lou Reed (1978)
fragile unreasonable flower old full-length black autumn coat with pockets dogeared post card against a wall drifts from a scattered table books letters notebooks bloom inside the entwined half-full shards inside this midtown Manhattan SRO hotel
In the cold In the cold vibrant twilight In the cold vibrant In the twilight In cold twilight
Robert Frede Kenter is a 2020 pushcart nominee, poet, visual artist, editor and the publisher of Ice FloePress. Currently living in Toronto, work is published widely, incl. Floodlight Editions, Cypress, Burning House Press, Anthropocene, New Quarterly, Grain, Prairie Fire, Going Down Swinging, Fascist Panties, Cough, Fevers Of. The hybrid, Audacity of Form (2019), is available from Ice Floe Press. Check out Robert’s latest book “Eden” with Floodlight Editions.
Eden is a selection of hybrid pareidolia poetry which glides within abstract visions. Robert Frede Kenter’s mirrored shards dangle inside sensory gardens. Smoke encircles words communicating raw politics and myth through jazzy vibrations twinkling in the shadows. Kenter’s poetry contorts paint, collage, drawn figures, photos, and found text. This imaginative collection, along with his other works and collaborations spanning more than three decades, solidify his place in the experimental poetry scene.
Once, I was you, a hippie friend said, just like you, when I danced. I didn’t believe it, until she dressed me up in Edie clothes. And I saw me, through Superstar eyes We sparkled in the same way We looked lost in the same way We’d said Ciao to everything we’d ever known, everything that had ensnared us, but it still wasn’t enough, and so I didn’t want to believe (no such thing as reincarnation, I said) but really because I’ve dreamt of her through a million pasts, seen her in a thousand mirror ghosts, saw she knew me Inside and out and very far From the world’s stage From the critics, the ocean hid us away, where we dreamt in unicorns star-wished above the clouds danced like kindred spirits under full moons Barefoot and wild and free and holding a million futures in our hands, always and forever sisters, best friends, daisy chain girls full of love for this imaginary world; for ourselves. For only ourselves, next time.
More on Willow Croft: Willow’s speculative fiction/horror has been published in a number of anthologies and journals. Find out more on Willow’s website https://willowcroft.blog
There was a cloud atop a mountain
Raining colors upon the planet below
From that soil grew in motion, the children
The law did not speak to those above it
Into and out of the city of silver and gold
There were testimonials
There were artifacts
There was food for the aliens in their uniforms
In circles they drew stares, formations, and lines
This delicate air was a destination and home
Where it was assembled, where it hung on the wall
Some were there, some saw it all
The kisses, the brushes, the fabric, the film
That whispered and shouted "let love rule this world"
To be touched with a finger what invitation
To sleep on the floor of this house of creation
Poem by Joe Kidd for “Before I Turn Into Gold Day” inspired by Leonard CohenA Fevers of the Mind Quick-9 Interview with Joe Kidd
Fevers of the Mind 