3 poems by Theresa Haffner : word decyclotron, word underworld, Dwarka

Key, Old, Flower, Nostalgic, Vintage

word decyclotron

word stream channel B
word pile syllable dust
broken words here
words without meanings
meanings without words
disconnected definitions
prefixes here suffixes there

this pile reserved for
word fragment
word decyclotron word smasher
wrecking ball word smithereen
splinters shatters plasters
crasher
thrasher word basher
decimater word grinder
syllables here

mix blender new words
from old mix
noun verb adjective subject
matter

predictive predicament
roastwood kiln phraseology
first sentences broken down to
phrases, phrases to single words
words ground into letters
letters disposed of
leaving only punctuation marks

and burroughs said so this is
what
becomes of old words after
we’ve
used and abused them and
bent
them and bruised them

and misused them and confused
them

yes, mr boroughs, they come
here
the ones that can be salvaged
are saved
cleaned up returned to
circulation

some can be rehabilitated some
can be
repaired some taken out of
circulation
and saved some to word
museum

some cannot be saved or
reused
and must be
mercifully
destroyed

yes, mr. burroughs, there are
those who say you made
language
an endangered species

you must be very proud

thank you i tried

but not to worry mr. burroughs
we can always replace
a steady stream of
new words never run out of
words
mr. burroughs

word underworld

tiresias what can we do with
with all these words

cast them into the styx

away with them. away.

just let them be
they may die down in a
few thousand years
people will stop listening
to them

they haven’t stopped
listening to you, tiresias

word underworld
word purgatory, sheol
in huge vaults shrouded
in shadows the words
are dormant now

waiting to be reused

Dwarka

lighthouse

dwarka harbor
dwarka, india

the tower rises
above sea level

the beam of light
cast above the waves
rotates above the sea
visible for miles

keeping ships safe from
shipwreck free from
crashing directing
trade and travel

below ground and
at the bottom of the sea
the words lie waiting
to be rediscovered
reawakened and reused

from the 4000 year old
temple complex the
archeological excavations
where krishna lived
with his wife the words
are waiting now to be
resurrected and reconstructed

in dwarka india the past
is being made ready
to live again

BIO:
Theresa Haffner:
Now in her seventh decade, Theresa Haffner was raised in Michigan but moved to California at age twenty one, first to San Francisco, then to Los Angeles to pursue a career in professional music. She is transgender, male to female, having made the transition in 1972. She began writing while still a teenager. She has been a force in L.A. poetry since the early 1980’s when she gave a reading of her concrete poetry at the Water Gallery in Hollywood. Also known as an editor/publisher, she edited THREADBARE LITERARY JOURNAL, In collaboration with Albert Crane. AFTERSHOCK MAGAZINE with David Behrens (Bill Bored), and was regional editor for THE NEW PRESS, a literary journal published in Flushing, New York and distributed nationally.

To her credit, she has one novel, MACARTHUR PARK CHRONICLES, (denotes available through Literary Download Center) several books of poetry including ACHERON AND OTHER POEMS, DIFFERENT DRUM, THE LAST POETRY BOOK, THE CASE FOR WISDOM AT 5:00 A.M., SURFACE OF THE LAND, a novella BLACK STAR a coffee table book, ABSTRACT EXPRESSIONISM (THE NEW YORK SCHOOL) (In preparation), and various other paper booklets and pamphlets.

As part of her effort to stimulate interest in original literature at the community level, she periodically makes available POETRY SAMPLERS selected from her copious archives of unpublished poetry. Several are available.

Her poetry is archived at http://www.poemhunter.com

For many years she worked as a professional musician, playing with an impressive array of famous and infamous people. Her music can be heard on Youtube at the Theresa Haffner Channel.

(*Literary Download Center c/o theresahaffner05@gmail.com)

2 poems by Theresa Haffner ‘Room 203’ & ‘The Black Stars’

stars in the sky during night time
Room 203

I woke in the black of night
In the Universe Hotel, Room 203

I didn't know where I was
Or who I was supposed to be.

I wandered the city streets alone
In the seamier parts of town.

I realized that I had no one to love,
That there was no one who loved me.

These city streets had sold me out.
Sold me cheap, Sold me easy.

Back in the Universe Hotel, Room 203,
The flashing neon sign outside the window.

The empty hallways, deserted doorways,
And I man I did not know.

Might have been a black man
-probably so-

Who made me feel not so alone.

The Black Stars

I.

along the highway
we passed the black holes
of burned out stars

black stars

holes in the universe
where love has gone wrong

and even the light can't escape
and even the light can't escape

and even the time is running backward
and even the time is running backward

and even the time slips away

negative universe
a storm within your eyes
where the weight of dying stars
accumulates

along the highway
we saw the black holes
of burned out stars

black stars

the light of dying suns
beyond the event horizon
lies a world we can never know

beyond the event horizon
lies a world of beginnings and endings

that we can see but never enter into

for we are trapped by the gravity
of a dead star collapsing on itself
in an orbit growing even smaller

a world so tormented it can not
escape even from itself

a world that has already become invisible
and soon will cease to exist

II.

beyond the boundary
we passed contaminated
oil refineries

illuminated by the orange flare
of petroleum fires

near a deserted train yard
the rusted tracks bear witness
to a world that has never been

our car headlights speed
through pitch blackness
searching for survivors

refugees from a world that
cannot be seen
though it be only a few feet away

a world of singularity
undetectable but by its influence
on surrounding bodies

their orbits distorted by the
massive gravity field

III.

on our way to the city
we saw the black holes
of burned out stars

black stars

the light of dying suns

(c)Theresa Haffner

BIO:
Theresa Haffner:
Now in her seventh decade, Theresa Haffner was raised in Michigan but moved to California at age twenty one, first to San Francisco, then to Los Angeles to pursue a career in professional music. She is transgender, male to female, having made the transition in 1972. She began writing while still a teenager. She has been a force in L.A. poetry since the early 1980's when she gave a reading of her concrete poetry at the Water Gallery in Hollywood. Also known as an editor/publisher, she edited THREADBARE LITERARY JOURNAL, In collaboration with Albert Crane. AFTERSHOCK MAGAZINE with David Behrens (Bill Bored), and was regional editor for THE NEW PRESS,  a literary journal published in Flushing, New York and distributed nationally. 

To her credit, she has one novel, MACARTHUR PARK CHRONICLES*, (denotes available through Literary Download Center) several books of poetry including ACHERON AND OTHER POEMS*, DIFFERENT DRUM*, THE LAST POETRY BOOK*, THE CASE FOR WISDOM AT 5:00 A.M.*, SURFACE OF THE LAND,  a novella BLACK STAR* a coffee table book, ABSTRACT EXPRESSIONISM (THE NEW YORK SCHOOL) (In preparation), and various other paper booklets and pamphlets.

As part of her effort to stimulate interest in original literature at the community level, she periodically makes available POETRY SAMPLERS selected from her copious archives of unpublished poetry. Several are available.

Her poetry is archived at www.poemhunter.com

For many years she worked as a professional musician, playing with an impressive array of famous and infamous people. Her music can be heard on Youtube at the Theresa Haffner Channel.

(*Literary Download Center c/o theresahaffner05@gmail.com)