Gerald Locklin, a legendary local teacher, writer and poet who helped shape the literary landscape of Southern California for decades and was friends…
Gerald Locklin, CSULB teacher, writer, poet, dies at 79
A poet I admire and always enjoy reading
Pages have been silent , poetry settled hibernating in its own nest of growing existence , other words have escaped beyond borders and territories dramatic arcs to be filmed on flickering silver screen those words I am embracing , those words are my life blood.
I sit back this Christmas morning and think of you all
Quarantine and Chill ,a powerful script written by Jane Dillon that has translated into a dramatic surge of a short film , shooting is complete Shaun Daly worked the camera with style despite lighting issues that we overcame , Jane is directing herself , Queen Banerbie plays her antagonist , as production assistant I became immersed this is the second time on set for me , the first was Matopulas as a first time actor working behind the scenes has enriched my knowledge especially towards screenwriting my awareness of pages becoming literal has altered some of my screenwriting perceptions, it was a great week made new friends Sian Woods who worked sound and camera and Amanda Borg the make up artist who is amazing . Once done through editing by Christopher Buckenham we will be revealing to the world and every festival we can but until then I will keep you posted
http://www.amandaborgmakeupartist.com
http://www.sianwoods.wixsite.com
My wife Karen Lawrence , Spikey Mouse Photography did the behind the scenes stills for advertising and marketing etc, she is an amazing and talented person and should look at her work on:-
http://www.karen-lawrence.pixels.com
hospital sounds occurred as
limp wires stretched to where she lay
quiet
body traumatised by the crash
she would scar , she would heal
away without him
her abuser,possessor , nightmare husband
a moth glimmered in her eye
how did it get in
then seemed to grow
expanding into something larger
she managed a smile
as it settled upon her
she sighed
it’s body pressing on top
a noctuidae
face bearded wise
antenna folded, she wanted to touch
trying to speak intubated
a gargling slur of nothing
I will protect you
it seemed to say
a fair exchange would be
probiscus probing pressing
her vein rich neck
flowing with oxygenated life
it pierced her flesh gently
a soft penetration
unlike others experienced
she would be safe
the owlet moth said so
quiet
she slept
#PWpoetryprompt
fables of pandemic unfold
more monsters than gods
take to visual stage
casting blame stones
impaled on their own arrogance
desperate to be seen
as the one
not concerned with people
fleshy pulp of the continent
oozing red into their eyes and hearts
more pledges of gold
in coffers in pockets
skin slaves toil
frontline fodder
without health armistice
broken promises
soiled memories
of what was and still
could of been
when it’s over
people will rise
staves and torches
battering the ivory towers
hoping this time
it will change
cumulonimbus squall
of a headache
tore me out of delirium
to blister pack paracetamol
choked almost
that raw pharmaceutical taste
mug of tea
apple spiced
wishing the phone
would cease
exhausted now
as silence fell
I took to being asleep
with tainted tongue
and abstract thoughts
Rob Plath an amazing poet with such a distinctive voice , I love him
Art by Rob Plath
it’s so much
nicer hanging
out w/ the dead
than the living
tongueless jaws
are better
vacant rib cages
are better
empty skulls
are better
horizontal frames
beneath layers
are better
the skull laughs
when you try
to stifle it
its jaws happily
chattering
b/c it has no
tongue
to cut out
i keep skinning
myself daily
& when that fucker
death knocks
it’ll just be sickle
meeting goddam bone
the final poem
i’ve never believed
in past lives
but thinking today
i’ve come to the conclusion
that i probably lived many
& i’m only in touch
w/ all those bones
of my former lives
a long line of skeletons
murmuring in my cells
Rob Plath is a 48-year-old poet from New York. He has published 21 books so far. . He is most…
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A poem by the brilliant and missed Scott Wannberg
Thanksgiving
I give thanks to your eyes
and how they see through artifice and lies.
I give thanks to your heart, how it pumps
vital information that will save us both in the end.
I give thanks to your voice, go ahead, sing one
so everyone can feel the necessity to dance.
I give thanks to your brain, how it finagles
and sorts the incoming news.
I give thanks to your legs for they take you
places not yet apprehended or appreciated.
I give thanks to your energy
for it has allowed you to overcome your pain.
I give thanks to how the light lands on you.
I give thanks to our ability to dream.
I dreamed that I said thank you,
and you heard me.
Come, join the attempted soiree.
The dancing light is on.
Scott Wannberg
11/26/05
Listening to Steve Goodman
Issa Lopez delivers a film , now streaming on Shudder that will in parts crawl inside or just be absorbed , a young cast who are accomplished , honest and natural Estrella played by Paola Lara makes you feel each strand of loss and abandon , and El Shine she meets who is so succinctly played by Juan Ramon Lopez each and every cast member gives something , so much so that there time on film is not wasted.
When it comes to production I don’t think you could ask for more, Juan Jose Saravia handles the cinematography in a way that like in a documentary you live it fully, underpinned by Vince Popes score that steers , aligns but but never overwhelm.
This truly is 10/10 film and I look forward to what Issa does next
I look at my penis
skin collar
lychee tip
then piss
a long straw stream
you are not a memory
you are a gift
finger folds
and soften furze
we know we belong
but until when
the scythe decides
Chris Lawrence
