ISSUE  1   2   3   4   SUBMIT

Three Poems


Ben Malkin

Childish

The man thinks about it and then asks
“So what do you mean to do?”
And all the jackals all around me, he sprang to his feet,
even fortune is inadequate, it’s all misunderstanding;
“No one gets through this far
and certainly not with a message from a dead man”
Without being ill he occasionally stumbles
lapsing into invisible sadness
if he succeeded in doing that nothing would be gained
carried away by this sight he woke up.
“This flower in your side is destroying you”
So charming it is that I am
No doubt that noise is ordained from on high
But communicating with people beyond that is hard.




Lord I Know Why the Mellow Crypt Sings
       ~For Eddie


Pt. 1

As preparation for death
      And possibly in addition to that raw gas washing down
It seems less concerned with results than with the in-between,

The north winds have been forewarned:
      I will never forget the immense relief I felt when
with an almost dreamlike aura

His suffering, too intense,
      Let him use language to ease the strain.
Really good music isn’t just to be heard, you know?

We’re black too. But in order to refer to ourselves,
      We don’t adorn our metaphors with stars
Taking belief in rebirth for granted,

By and by
      ‘We’re being punished here, so if we can get off on
an androgynous model of humanity

Naked? Or was my shoulder covered with a leaf?
      Though this is not a literal translation      
An embryo of Buddhahood or a womb containing Buddhahood.

Is wild.
      ‘The dialogue is just the left hand; the melody is in the eyes.’
Then he raised his voice emphatically.

(The members of the Court seem to be getting excited,)
      Lord I know we grows out of conflicts when
as opposites, We feel.

“Maybe it’s you fuckers,” Fred said, “who’re seeing the universe backward,
      “Which is –“
I think My time ain’t Long


Pt. 2

If it goes on long enough – lubrication washes away,
      The journey rather than the destination.
The earth revolves around the sun, which itself is carried off in

Purplish overtones. I could practically intuit the microscopic inner structure of
      The load on their shoulders,
There was nothing wrong with me

One of the scramble suits said. “He the individual come in the door,
      expensive to replace if the curtain is drawn. Bang bang
It’s almost like a hallucination, like chance

Or grand nocturnal images. But with soot and blacking, with coal and tar.
      Traditionally, this law of cause and effect
was intertwined with a belief in by and by

“I’m sure the constant exposure to amplifiers and electric guitars
      And my member adorned with moss
and honey, said to me (melting)

‘Expression over virtuosity
      resembles a friend talking to you,’
I don’t mind being dog-tired. Others will help me.

Since you need a fresh corpse
      like a mirror, see it right,
submit to time


Pt. 3

Look at how he’s perked up. My word, he seems
      A straight line to the very limits of God, in a secret chamber,
That was the first time I got stoned, and things haven’t changed much since.

All the horses are untethered.
      Because I am female,
Stoop-shouldered and hung over

A middle path b/w the traditional choices of being either
      Hand in hand, or Village and Virtue,
Rebirth and impossible

You may go
      Ahhhh some day
By a by

Especially as it concerns
      Any awareness of a distinction b/w
Thoroughly and completely, once and for all,

My altered body chemistry
      looks at him and figures it is often translated as
“tathagata-embryo” or “I got mine.”

What I do is either abstract to you or it’s
      POW! like an insect
whispering in your ear

‘Acting is like piano playing
      Ripped off when re-experiencing
such utter dependence on another,’

Brought up on the sizzle of Mom’s frying pan
      Interspersed with Death oh death
Done took my father and gone

Stone pony blues only proves
      Doubt’s in the corner
French kissin’ Belief*~




The Special Child

Sometimes if you have a child who cannot speak,
She can teach us (about ourselves) once we learn to hear
the song of love. This ache memory isn’t words,
but a language that dives like clear when you’re in it.
Outside bore empathy on a stage that presents joy
For living contact, made me move on precious glory glory,
Throw away conception & reason, dive straight into
the bonfire of insanity and find a little surprise for u:
the child’s fire below.
She survived, Noble, Outside of the Outside
Laid imminence down and got better,
shined sensitivity on the allegations levied at you,
taught to take-off is all hope, how you see