Below are the 5 most recent journal entries recorded in antimachus' LiveJournal:

Friday, December 29th, 2006
10:34 pm	New poem This is a poem about what Nitro, West Virginia smells like. Nitro nitro is black snake skin and slug trail bade nostril dredge putrid city semen vile breezes and intestine chemicals each hovel contains humans scattered geometry flung at the land distorted rocks crags and caves into the haze of stale stench and gutt wrenching air ripping lung and windpipe Current Mood: uncomfortable (Comment on this)
Thursday, October 26th, 2006
5:19 am	Here is a poem that I wrote at a workshop. The word of the day was "Prison", and I was off. Prison Like the point at which I return and fall upon your door, I return again to these bars which are within me. Some apparent delusion that this flesh holds something More than just a heart, or the morning I came out wet and Expecting to see the dawn as rosy fingered as you said it was; But sweet as this flowering tree the day continues. Anyone so filled, (like these eyes could hold such things as wood or green against the brown), are not alone in wonder of harmonies, or solem in their silence, for all things as these sounds are tribute to being alive; are so simple they confuse minds and cause added abstractions which can only recreate the enormous hope we all live in; they are themselves our gods, little and so real that they can be held, or be herd to fall against each other with the apparent bending of limbs. How can we fit all these points together? It is as simple as finding your hand able to reach out and grasp; it is sense, more than anything you are told, that contains this earth, these huge rumblings of ocean and hill, they are your hope against blindness. Along the rim of observation, the fog curls itself round, unlike a cat but sounding so similar The prison then, if one be known is the palm which can only hold, is the eye that tries to tell you about color and after a long line of questioning so many versions all wash together and the mud of truth finds the ocean as a formal bed in a crowded room. (Comment on this)
Thursday, July 6th, 2006
12:26 am	Another Poem The squat named robustulite fruit called summer salting your tongue pulls apples onto the boughs with sunlight fucking the manured garden I kneel creek stone and angled bark stand upward pointing the shredded clouds alive sounding a past rain with moss crawling the hill Over the past dirt once leaves now sperm of solar wind and MOON the swirling fog illumined The seen earth grows green and blues a weather more severe for your silver eyes: Contrasting the planet swings you about one then all places swings itself gathered and twisting flung mathematically holy (not nailed to a tree) and brilliantly firing massive bulk into light Gesture of love cause before the effect brings bright radiant distances and fucking cosmic chemicals unto christian and crystal alike and no void in the light of our sun son of light no death no longer dark (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Friday, February 10th, 2006
9:33 pm	Second entry: Thanks for the commentary, but I am not such a fan of Sandburg. For me, he lacks a certain subtlety, and as he tries to be Whitmanesque in his delight of "the workers", he fails to exalt the humanity of humans. This is not to say that I do not enjoy his poems, on the contrary; "Aprons of Silence" is cutting, precise in its detail, and vivid in its feeling. I can certainly envision his sentiment & take in his feeling of being, of living in "The City". However, the poem I posted, was most influenced by my favorite poet, Kenneth Patchen. I totally stole his line, "the placating of polar giraffes", but I thought it appropriate at the time. I think I wrote that poem almost twenty years ago. It is interesting that at the time I was reading about Wahhabi Islamists, (This was Pre-Taliban), and their extreme view of Religion. It seemed to me then, that they would be a threat, not only to Western ideals, but to all women. It kind of pissed me off. I guess that is what I meant by the line about flowers and missiles. Here in a little while, I will post another poem. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Thursday, February 9th, 2006
12:08 am	My first entry Hi, I am just starting to figure this out, but to start I will post a poem. Because I Stopped Writing Poetry For You The walls of skin inside your apartment Burned and three days later the mayor Phoned me up to congratulate me on The murder I had committed for the Sake of Unicorns and Virgins and Countless other social blights created For congressmen to wad up and throw At each other while a thousand Junkies marched outside the White House Screaming for cleaner needles and the Deregulation of Junk. The Society for the Placating of Polar Giraffes now sends chain Letters in Arabic to English factory workers, And since no one has ever heard of a Wahhabi Recidivist before, we now have an ample supply Of flowers to plant around our nuclear missiles. So it must have been the President who said, "We have nothing to fear except the fact that We are totally naked underneath our clothes". (14 Comments |Comment on this)