|
• Annual Literary Reviews • available at all events |
|
All rights revert to the individuals published. These works may not be reproduced without permission of the author. These pages may not be reproduced without the express written permission of Performance Poets Association, and may not be stored in any electronic data retrieval system. |
|
PPA Staff |
|
Haiku
the night heron perched on a post his beak points to his prey
bobbing and weaving up the stairs the wasp finds the door
astronaut floating in space, inside the capsule bumps her head
wavecrest a surfer shoots the curl wavetrough
way high up on a black cliff face this steep a mountain goat
I thought I had a chance with her until I saw her say “He is beautiful”
In a puddle in the rain the flapping sparrow takes a bath
Cliff Bleidner Cliff is a Haiku poet, formalist poet, PPA co-founder, PPA Coordinator |
|
Again to the Stretch Rack
writing is sometimes torture as the words appear from left to right down the page line after line of pain pain pain like being racked by some invisible inquisition for some unknowable crime
it was cheap psychoanalysis at first until I needed psychoanalysis and got it it was for self expression until I learned to express myself with the help of others it was for self discovery until I learned that too it was crying tears of black ink into handkerchief paper until they ran dry
it is now to produce a work of fine art bring it to perfection by wheel chain and shackle of the editing process my blood black ink my body 8 1/2 by 11 white paper I recant I recant I recant
Cliff Bleidner
|
|
Mast
stop that ship upon the ocean my Zen Master said to me now how the hell can I do that? so stern he sits there staring and leaving I bow
Cliff Bleidner
|
|
Channel
I am a flute god blows through my crown Chakra one long note
by fingering my other Chakras beautiful music pours forth
as long as I don’t interfere
Cliff Bleidner |
|
Haiku
Beautiful face stunning figure too bad she’s a mannequin
full moon on a starry night until pond ripples give it away
on the gravestone a cameo of a woman wearing a cameo
by herself on the bare stage the master cellist poises to play
his head the roof his knees the fender biker
pole vaulter rising up up up over the bar lets go of the pole
spreading itself out beneath two feet of water the crocodile waits
Cliff Bleidner |
|
Performance Poets Association® |