Haiku For Headley

When I lose balance
something subtle rights my scales
Friend, I love you too

Balm my soul with that sweet lowdown.

Untitled # 23

He carries the speaking dead on his back.
"You're drinking all the whisky." he said
"You're breathing all the air." she said

Elegy for a Magician: A poem for Harry and Bess Houdini

When the great Houdini died,
and did break his mortal bonds,
the brethren performed the ancient rite
of the broken wand.(1)
But before he made his exit
the skeptic made a last reprieve:
“Hold a séance on all hallows
the code is “Rosabelle believe” (2)

Now the circle waits for answers
and the postcards from the dead
lo’ the automatic writing (3)
does come naught from hand or head.

Dig a grave or build a castle
neither can contain
the water in the vessel
tis’ the soul’s seat in the brain.
When your cup was turn’ed over
in the ever broad’ning sea. (4)
Us two souls were bound to wander,
please find your way back to me.

If the baseline is forever
and beauty is just a trance,
then upward flows my river
in my veins your blood will dance.
Oh my ribs are just a bird’s cage
please unhook my silver clasp
I’ll alight to you unbidden
and we’ll be freed at last.

Yet years of silence were unbroken
she snuffed the candle with her hand.
“I think ten years is long enough
to wait for any man.”

(1) The Broken Wand Ceremony is a ceremony performed at the memorial of the death of a magician, a wand is broken, symbolizing that the magic has left this world with the magician who wielded it.

(2) Before Houdini died he and his wife decided on a passcode to authenticate any after death message. This was a line from the play that they were both in when they met “Rosabelle believe.”

(3) “Automatic writing is writing purportedly produced by subconscious and/or spiritual source without the writer being consciously aware of what they are writing about.” Automatic Writing- Wikipedia

(4) The transcendentalists believed that the soul was akin to a chalice containing the soul floating in a great ocean that was the whole of human consciousness. When death came, the cup tipped over and the soul became one with this great ocean.




Information on the Houdini Se'ances
The Broken Wand Ceremony
Automatic Writing

Frostwriting

My poem,
The Interview, is in issue #6 of the digital LitMag, Frostwriting.

The whole issue is really great! Please check it out!

Thaw

It's spring and this whole city smells like an aquarium.
Men like sucker fish stuck to their car windows,
gaping maws of lust and longing.
You'll walk an avenue and fifteen blocks
to see a pale pair of gams
and a smile crooked as a dog's leg.
Sidle up to the spotty silvered bathroom mirror,
practice your very best scowl and scoff.
Some girl will take you home.

go here

"And the dead make perfect astronauts."

StCecilia is Shaking her Head at Me

Published

My poem Interview will be coming out in the literary magazine Frostwriting this month.

Links when I have them.

Poor Edward

Edward Mordrake (alternative spelling: Edward Mordake) was a legendary member of 19th century nobility. According to the story there was another face on the back of his head that could neither eat nor speak. It could however laugh and cry. Edward claimed that the extra face whispered "devilish things" to him in the night, and made his life a living hell. Yet no doctor would remove it due to the fact that it would most likely kill him.

He suffered from a curious case of Craniopagus Parasiticus. A kind of parasitic twin.

At 23 he ended his life and his torment.

A facinating case. To be sure

Poor Edward, the song by Tom Waits

Required Listening

It's All Over Now Baby Blue

Epic "Science Fight"

Warning: Contains lots and lots of swears. But too hilarious/clever not to post.

Says VIP right there