|
Snapshots
|
Big Dreams
I Say he asks what are you wearing? long pause... i think... should i lie? if i tell the truth will he think i am ridiculous? what is wrong with a fifteen year old Alfred E. Newman tee shirt? deep breath think quick! i say, i'm wearing your smile deborah russell, baltimore, maryland usa nothing new the last sip of the first cup eight am eight o'clock coffee hazelnut breath the heat rushes greets me, at the door behind the thud of the daily - nothing new suicide blasts in Rosh Haayin two back - to - back back to school? i must remember a larger backpack for his first day of middle high Deborah Russell, Baltimore, MD, 8:20 am Mosquitos This isn't a poem it could be I guess I'm trying to find the website where you swat mosquitos anybody??? Hello...tap, tap, tap...hello??? Is the mic on? deborah russell, Baltimore, USA Chasing Fireflies The road, to the temples of Mount Hurago, was narrow, slowing climbing upward and flanked by magnificent trees. Trees, that seemed older, that seemed to hold tomes of history, within their branches and leaves. These trees seemed more of everything than the trees of my urban neighborhood. My eyes were plunged, captivated and caught in the scattered light that found its way through the thickness. Small pleasing patches of yellow that illuminated the spirit with the same childish joy of chasing fireflies. I walked with a new born pace, in the place of centuries of soul seeking steps. All those, that had come, before me. Each step, was an anticipation, a discovery of things known and unknown. This is the way, I thought to myself. This is the way we should learn to live, as if the next step will open the gates of purpose and direction. Mount Hurago ~ autumn sun captures a willing prisoner Deborah Russell Baltimore, Maryland Wednesday, August 27, 2003 (Haibun, Reflections on Japan) Shurazhell by god this is going to be a poem even if i have to use a hammer! one look around this room tells me i am overworked and shurazhell underpaid i need a hotline to Merri-Maid what the freak-n-hell did i do with my notes? they were here, right here - a minute ago, next to the incoming holy crap i'm screwed Deborah Russell, Baltimore, 9/10/2003 Noun from particles forms borrowed forms a poetic mind a white poem snaps perfected line singes time indefinite blind flames gather a Phoenix of verbs flip, snip, spin - leaves turn rises the noun Deborah Russell, 9-17-03 10:18 am Baltimore, Maryland Play Naked this child in me is dying i need to laugh and dance with my hands flinging in all directions i want to be mad, crazy and wild bark at the moon and be sweet, coy and fresh like young girls are i need to be chased through the house and up the stairs, caught, tickled and laugh until i nearly cry i want to fly to Jamacia tonight play naked tomorrow, beneath the sun i want to run through waves with my best clothes on write a name inside a heart in the sand but not the one i let wash away Deborah Russell Baltimore, Maryland September 24, 2003 9:32 pm Indigenous (Love Song For A Nomad) parched vowels etch - petrify rippling tessellations, living organisms language rejoices, natural patterns a harmony of small particles apostrophes in space - oasis's dots and dashes, commas in vastness arid gestures of indigenous rhythm lines shape, form nomadic genres gentle reminders imprint sands far removed from conversation tie down that tiny tent between oar strokes the mid of sea and land common ground cool and refreshing, there, touch the strident points the smooth indifference Deborah Russell 10:10 am Baltimore, Maryland, USA Verbs I Wish Were Dead Calla lilies and crocus late bloomers a few brave mallards swim cool depths in alternating scapes the memory in my head, emerging, receding - awakens senses my tongue twists, strangles chokes on words - verbs, I wish were dead ice crystals slow melt into the path damp winter leaves addressing the past I search for answers to questions never asked deborah russell 8:37 am, Baltimore, Maryland, USA Chicago... packing this and that (more than I should) and less checking expiration dates stacking neat piles of poems running extra copies in case, don't want to repeat the same mistakes it's good to keep marginal space for creative endeavors and doodles snap, click... zip I'm off to see the Wizard. deborah russell 9:45 am Baltimore, Maryland Through The Valley In whispered sigh, the wind lifts a sleeve of cedar The doves lift their voices and wings in sudden flight In upsweeps of clouds, on the horizon, neither Twilight nor dawn breaks away from the dark of night The doves lift their voices and wings in sudden flight An ambered light filters through the valley and trees Twilight nor dawn breaks away from the dark of night The memory lifts in a misty shape of leaves An ambered light filters through the valley and trees Silence follows her dreams across mountainous land The memory lifts in a misty shape of leaves To form a melody in movements of her hand Silence follows her dreams across mountainous land Hope dispels in rivulets of image and peace To form a melody in movements of her hand When poetry comes quietly within the reach Hope dispels in rivulets of image and peace A red tail hawk circles in dreamscape atmosphere When poetry comes quietly within the reach One writes a new arousal in the eyes and ear A red tail hawk circles in dreamscape atmosphere In upsweeps of clouds, on the horizon, neither One writes a new arousal in the eyes and ear In whispered sigh, the wind lifts a sleeve of cedar Deborah Russell, 8:55 am, 11-05-03 Baltimore, Maryland iceland
Howard Street
'gotta dolla, gotta dolla?'
she wore
layers -
dirt and stains and hungry pleas
she hung around, down,
down on Howard Street
with a small child
and a scheme
hand
out-stretched
sweat
beading
drips of yesterday's dream
suicidal things
suddenly blind
( me, like a wristwatch without time)
neither one of us
can tell yesterday
from today or tomorrow
'gotta dolla, gotta dolla?'
over there,
there's a one armed man
with graffiti on his feet, face and hand
parched skin
wrapped like a drum around
the tight throat of melody
war songs between soldiers
and long lost sons'
they peer out
from peircing bloodshot eyes
my blade's serrated.
'Hey you! Gotta dolla, gotta dolla?”
Deborah Russell 11-12-03 5:06 pm Baltimore, Maryland USA And Grow, For Anna in St. Joe's eyes dart did you call the priest no response hands cup Anna's head so small - my small hands so much larger not large as the pain in her father's eyes or the fears of her new mother the seizures are determined genetic our eyes focused today tomorrow? next week? the three of us, silently promise to remain aware to keep watchful to love unconditionally and grow, for Anna Deborah Russell, 8:50am, 11-26-2003 Baltimore, Maryland ( four month old grand daughter) Tangerines It's a philosophical thing. He likes George Wasouff, apricots and quatrains. I like tangerines. I could see where he was coming from but even he doesn't remember recipes. We wrote volumes with a raised brow - a sideways glance. Intense communication that opened doors; some stripped by weather, webbed - musty like a grandmother's cellar. We laughed on the edge of lightning, the languages of fire and ice, writing lines forged with interpretations that desired more than probabilities, less than conceived. Deborah Russell, 12/17/03 Baltimore, Maryland USA Deception - Organization and Execution Light and sound masking - decoys and disguises behind large-area smoke screens, yeah deception, properly used, may well be the decisive element for determining victory or defeat on the poetic front, on the job and at home,from largest to the smallest, from town to country, from city to trailer park, to LA, Beverly Hills, San Antonio and sea to shining sea. Become deception conscious and also intelligence conscious, because in anyone's opinion accurate intelligence is absolutely crucial for conducting a successful deception operation. The importance of centralized planning can not be understated or overstated. Control in operations that involve camouflage, concealment and deception in a variety of situations and flavors contributes to many victories and is important and vital to modern day financial relationships. The measure of success of any deception should be incorporated into every tactical situation and training for the position to deceive must include extensive in-depth deception training which advocates the greater use of dummy positions. Intelligence is the enemy in the case of management and government. It is the crucial factor in deciding whether or not to initiate dummies or continue relations. The benefits of using guile are clearly and distinctly shown. This poem, this refrain contains a brief account of the "fog of battle" deception. A simple, yet effective, part of this program was the concealment of the fact that certain towns and strategic economic factors are vulnerable. As dummies entered these areas they were surprised, doe-eyed and easily led astray. There was an intelligence failure on the part of the dummies, but give credit to the original failure and incompetence of management. Their well-conceived and well executed deception operation, with its extraordinarily tight security measures, fooled entire families, schools, universities and nations. The use of electronic web warfare is to indicate that despite an improvement in monitoring capabilities, deception can still be effective and remains an important part of computer programming.This poem describes a successful deception operation conceived by a superior mega webmaster and carried out at the management level with the approval of higher, yet earthbound authority. The defenders were taken completely by surprise and a significant feature on the front was captivated by the intricate means employed by people with little more than a sixth grade reading level. The successful and repeated use of deception by the multi-plex of dummy management increased the need for developing further means of deception and secrecy. Electromagnetic radiation was employed for guidance and the need for electronic countermeasures increased in order to render poetic positions ineffective. What emerges is a picture of deception that is in need of a deception on this ever changing and ever expanding electronic battlefield. Theorists conclude that the most important means of achieving surprise is the carrying out of management operations that are based on the principles of activity, naturalness, diversity, and continuity. This poetry shows how this theory was put into practice with great success. Historical examples of successful deception of these various elements that are part of the over all deception-including secrecy, security, demonstration attacks, and feints are present in these elaborate operations. As the poems continued to manifest, methods were continually improved and the scale and diversity of deception steadily increased. For example, there was greater use of anonymity, security measures were tightened, management simulation was expanded and planning became more comprehensive. The successful use of these same tactics during the previous years, is of current significance under present-day conditions, and calls for the continued imaginative application of disguise, camouflage, concealment, and deception. By saving a small number of poets from defeat, and bringing victory to others,management is able to maintain control and the element of surprise. This short poem describes a successful ruse used by the frontal assault of management where fabricated positions of "importance" were "inadvertently" named and dropped where impressionable,young poets could retrieve the information. Eventually, the plans reached the general in command of dummy management. Because the plans fit in so well with their superior's beliefs about poetic intentions, he accepted them as true and arranged his defenses accordingly. When the poets carried out a flanking attack on the management, they achieved nothing but a slap on the wrist and the dummies again, won a major victory, even so, the poems became the means to present sonic and olfactory deception, concealment, and elevate dummy positions to executive status. Some modern poetry uses elements of darkness to cover covert movement and to create false impressions of morbidity and others used elements of archaic, romantic poems which evoke compassion and friendship. The conclusion is that great care must be exercised in making judgments about poetic intentions because even though management is working at a level which is "a slice short of a loaf" they are very good at creating false and endearing impressions.Information contained in this poem provides an insight into the types of fortifications that use certain methods of camouflage and concealment that have historically been proven effective. The actual deception plan is presented within and between the lines, accentuated with cadence and embellished with slight rhyme. There is no other reason for deception but financial gain. This poetic form gives a clear picture of how deceivers using the simple methods of camouflage are able to organize forces and allocate resources to conceal the true,display the false, and achieve surprise in the home, school and office. Camouflage capabilities promote the integration of and establishes guidance, policies, and responsibilities in the area of deception and, in doing so, presents a picture of what needs to be done to deceive poets effectively on the modern home front. The poem remains very detailed, with many diagrams, tables, and illustrations. The poem provides a good review of thinking on surprise and deception at the tactical, operational, and strategic levels. It focuses on surprise, while concentrating all physical and mental energy on deception. The use of concealment, imitation, demonstration maneuvers, and disinformation is composed in detail. The difficulty of carrying out a counter deception operation is also explored. This poem discusses the deception measures used at each echelon and evaluates the influence of surprise on the outcome of a political action similar to the conservative campaign. This is an interesting poem, because the conflicting elements often used in democratic campaigns are carried out by force. This particular poem describes one of the finest historical examples of how an integrated, comprehensive deception plan contributed to success of management at the expense of all three levels of the majority of households world-wide, including the estimated worth of middle, lower middle to low income families. This poetry forms the definitive English-language source on the deceptive practices used by one of the most remarkable concealment operations in poetic history, including false radio nets, camouflaged publishing nets, underground editorial assembly areas, dummy defensive critique positions, deceptive specialized broadcasts and news reports. This stanza shows how deception and infiltration measures varied from front to front and back to back, East to West and North to South, depending to a great extent on mission, management, training, evaluation, time and money. Deception can play havoc with poets in gaining and maintaining the initiative and poetry must place greater emphasis on the use of this same deception at the ultimate operational level. To carry out tactical deception operations in various situations poetry is analyzed and poetic justice is learned and becomes evident and relative even to deception specialists, who in their now desperate need for a deception operation to appear completely authentic and viable to the operational level of all households through radio, newspaper and televised deceptions, mock-ups, decoys, and any other means realize constant defeat. Strategic surprise enables everyone to deceive even extremely security conscious people by well developed,plausible deception covers, and by practicing good camouflage control. As a result, some poets have been known to effectively conceal their massive preparations for the offensive and some have even caught their relatives by surprise. There are over forty different factors that influence deception efforts, such as the use of smoke or concealment in public, gathering in assembly areas like schools, playgrounds, restaurants, large hotels, cruise ships and shopping center parking lots. Numerous sources show the high degree of standards achieved by true poetic deception efforts are indeed, highly successful. Although some poets refuse to believe the over all deception has caused them any personal grief, it is known that deception has profited by hundreds of billions in US dollars mostly at their willingness to buy into elevated social status claims perpetrated by underground editorial assembly units. These poets practically fool themselves with their personal deception stories because the claims and social positions fit their preconceptions of success and notoriety. Deborah Russell, 12/24/03 Baltimore, MD USA Dedicated to Roddy: Walter Hudson, Oct. 24, 1970 - Dec. 24, 2003 Time of Death: 5:05 am Lunge a screech of sun speeding tires of dawn on the far distant edge of town where woods become thick, moist and warm where something begins begins to feel as if God himself has dipped his fingers deep into the earth a one-handed lunge for humanity Deborah Russell, 01-07-04 baltimore, maryland usa 10:36 am a good friend's cold her body moving into fragments with the conjugation of the verb 'to be' the familiar road transformed into sliding white where three miles of static traffic waits for the thaw rain and snow a clear sky bright stars every surface now turned to glass ready to shatter Macclesfield 28th Jan 04 (A Snow Day - the first in my daughter's life. School cancelled and time to go sledging!) You Make Coffee He writes words - in a nest of sanctuary (inasmuch as he is the subject) There are common occurences between nouns You make coffee, I read the daily And it takes a modicum of skill to determine the role of a pronoun some act as a direct object, some function as a subject We link verbs; feel, touch and taste Still, one must take time to recognize the subject, as opposed to a noun nearest the verb deborah russell, Baltimore, MD Feb 4, 04 (Actual time: 1:47am) school daze? his ski patrol sweatshirt covers his cast... the only one who laughs is the teacher in each class Deborah Russell Baltimore, Maryland USA Donuts her email message - re: your submittal ... she substitutes the word "ruse" with muse in my poem said she "knows" i must have meant "sail" instead of sails i'm thinking staple gun but she might think it's a compliment rhyme could be the way to go... sticky, gooey rhyme - flypaper gooey or sticky sweet sweet, she'll eat my words like donuts Deborah Russell - 8:45pm 03-03-04 Baltimore, Maryland USA Morning Rituals minding my own business morning rituals... suddenly it dawns there is nothing quite like the morning rush of your word play deborah russell, baltimore, md 10:27 am . 03-10-04 Being Quite Green not feeling myself but the colour of elf not being Irish, but being quite green a stomach virus churn'd me ol' spleen caused me to toss most other things hoping for good luck in what the day brings green eggs and ham should do me fine cause feelin' like yuck makes very poor line green eggs and ham green eggs and ham my break fast of 48 hours? it am so here's to you at Poetryetc: hope you won't get this stomach upset! Deborah Russell, 8:10 am 03-18-04 Baltimore, Maryland USA Singing Bird Love is a singing bird whose nest is soft as silk a phantom of pignon and down in the deep of night I spoke with God whose ear is a circular silver sea of upturned leaves how clear the vision came to me and kissed my eyes delirious Deborah Russell, 03/24/04 Baltimore, MD USA - 11:20 am against the misty blue of juniper magenta azaleas blaze brushed in a single stroke a flame of brilliant colour each blossom curls, unfurls in waves the pink of them reflects in the doorknob of mother's house a snail on the window screen its silver sheen in a path of memory my hand opens to grasp and clings to childhood Deborah Russell, Baltimore, MD USA 04-06-04 (daughter's 23'd birthday) Early this morning my daughter phoned to ask, "When did your hair begin to turn grey?" I lied. After all, she is only thirty three. Deborah Russell, 04-15-04 Baltimore, Maryland USA 10 pm So Close A tight ball small fists trembling I gather you from the floor in my arms questions... I have no answers I wait to see your eyes recognize me pray, they do... I hold you close, your small body, so close It's a small death for you and I we will get beyond this love will be stronger because of this Deborah Russell, 04-21-04 Baltimore, Maryland 11:00pm (My granddaughter, another seizure) *** the latest news spews nasty views all over my living room seems the "conflict" is biblical... an eye for an eye... send the politicians they've already lost their heads Deborah Russell - 1:10pm Baltimore, Maryland May 12, 04 *** Passport To Sunrise the desire for sleep is lost long nights fill with intent in the vision above my bed i write infinite poems i write a visa to mysterious islands a passport to sunrise in the cock's crow my ink flows in a strange sea of unknown language Deborah Russell, June 2, 04 (morning) Baltimore, Maryland *** The Problem Is the problem with poetry editors is they will scrap a perfectly good metaphor and try to make literal sense well, maybe that's not the problem the problem is when it sounds better than the original and for a few nasty seconds you wonder which one of you should take credit Deborah Russell, Baltimore, MD USA 9:54 am o6/16/o4 Salvation city streets - beyond credits and liner notes the beat of a heart is a drum rhythm machine whip-rides, tides that rise, fall twist unexpectedly we feel profound even in the verses of rocky movements we dance on the slippery edge of time looking for someone or something to blame to feel solace, if not salvation even from ourselves Deborah Russell, Baltimore, Maryland USA 06-23-04 - 1:26 pm Poetryetc is a listserv relating to poetry and poetics which provides a forum for poets to debate their critical and creative work. The list has over the years run a number of projects for its members, of which Snapshots has been the most enduring. Every Wednesday, Poetryetc members were invited to post short poems on any subject or in any form they chose. The idea was to make a poetic collage of instamatic “snaps” of that day that reflected the international membership of the list. The project has generated an astounding number of poems. The first two runs, of six weeks each, and the first ten weeks of the third run, are archived at Wild Honey Press www.wildhoneypress.com under Poetryetc Project. The rest - amounting in all to a run of a year - are archived here. Poetryetc, like its affiliate Salt Publishing (http://www.saltpublishing.com), was founded by Australian poet John Kinsella. Salt is managed by Christopher Hamilton-Emery (cemery@saltpublishing.com), while Poetryetc is owned by Alison Croggon (ajcroggon@bigpond.com). Poetryetc is now archived at http://www.jiscmail.ac.uk/lists/poetryetc.html. and anyone interested can join from that url. To contact the listowner: Alison Croggon These pages are designed, maintained, and hosted by Rebecca Seiferle, the Editor of The Drunken Boat. To email. 
|