Posted by Rich Magahiz
Fri, 28 May 2010 03:01:00 GMT
see a falling star strike camp and haul ass all night
sharpen your resolve memorize all their soft points
where caimans come swarming there dropships have not been
answer no chiming phone their sense of smell is weak
mess at midday your cook fire concealed from orbit
ripe mangoes for energy meat when you find it
plead for no mercy their breasts colder than Neptune
Posted in scifaiku, poetry, sequence | Tags space, stellarenga | no comments
Posted by Rich Magahiz
Sun, 09 May 2010 15:42:00 GMT
rock-grey
pressed Armani
at parapet level
a thin stew of rainwater through
the lips
ceiling
frescoes of stars
their copacetic cribs
their chrome and neon couplings and
their sins
heaving
musculature
straining the bas-relief
and off to the side a tiny
syringe
in glass
those famous lips
not autotuned but poised
at the rim of a porcelain
sewer
and we
huddled masses
gaze at the images
the raw slack-jawed wide-eyed envy
thrills us
Posted in poetry, cinquain, sequence | no comments
Posted by Rich Magahiz
Sat, 23 Jan 2010 01:40:00 GMT
By milkfish, shot with KODAK EASYSHARE C643 ZOOM DIGITAL CAMERA at 2010-01-22
I just received my contributors’ copies of David Kopaska-Merkel’s Dreams and Nightmares, issue 85, which contain my Wallace Stevens – J. R. R. Tokien mashup Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Balrog. I read it again, and I have to admit that sometimes I crack me up.
Posted in poetry, sequence, fantasyku | no comments
Posted by Rich Magahiz
Fri, 14 Aug 2009 18:59:00 GMT
I
Among the mountain roots,
The only sound at all
Was the alarm summoning the Balrog.
II
I was triply lost
Like a chamber
In which there were three Balrogs.
III
The Balrog boiled up dwarf-hewn tunnels
It was minutes to showtime.
IV
A flame and burning
Are one.
A flame and burning and a Balrog
Are one.
V
I do not know what works better
Rocks split by hate,
Or rocks split by fear,
The flame-sword of the Balrog
Or his damn whip.
VI
Stones bridge broad chasms
Thanks to the trolls.
The man-shaped Balrog
Leapt over, facing East.
The grey one
Names in the darkness
A secret fire.
VII
Goblins of Khazad-dûm,
Why do you imagine dragon hoards?
Do you not see how the Balrog
Turns his black-gold eyes
Toward the surface?
VIII
I know the Black Speech
And the drums that go Doom;
But I know, obviously,
That the Balrog is crucial
To what I know.
IX
When the Balrog reached First Deep
A trail of smoke
Arched gently.
X
At the sight of a Balrog
With a whip of thongs
Even Durin’s wife
Would squeal with excitement.
XI
They made for the Great Gate
Stumbling and shoving.
Once, a fear shook them
In that they mistook
The shadow of an ogre
For a Balrog.
XII
The bridge is smitten.
The Balrog must be plummeting.
XIII
It was getting dark early
And down there
It was always dark.
The Balrog on shift
Did not clock out.
Posted in poetry, sequence, fantasyku | Tags parody, Stevens, Tolkien | no comments
Posted by Rich Magahiz
Tue, 27 Jan 2009 23:36:00 GMT
My solo stellarenga On extended leave from 2007 has been published in the latest issue of the online quarterly LYNX.
Posted in scifaiku, sequence | Tags stellarenga | no comments
Posted by Rich Magahiz
Fri, 09 Jan 2009 13:04:00 GMT
Just log in with username ‘coffee’,
The password, of course, also ‘coffee.’
Kiss me with your Sunday morning mouth
I want to taste that strong black coffee.
There is something I have to tell you.
I met someone, skin black as coffee….
Officials said the house was empty,
steam rising from two mugs of coffee.
From the exercise yard he looked back ’
The smell of someone brewing coffee.
She moved the floor lamp a foot to the right,
but could not hide the stain of coffee.
The edge of a shaft of sun
bisects the surface of my coffee.
If there is any hope of heaven for us,
let it be a place with good coffee.
Hidden in the forest shadows,
a tiny plot planted with coffee.
The last Space Station resupply craft:
It brought but oxygen and coffee.
When I look into your nut-brown eyes
I need a couple cups of coffee.
She fainted on the waiting room floor
poisoned, they say, by so-called coffee.
We should never have opened her will;
terms burning hotter than fresh coffee.
The Rabbi spoke slowly for all to hear
“Your misdeeds call for tepid coffee.”
When she was only a willful child
she laid schemes to get hold of coffee.
The Chinese invented many things,
but the one they forgot was coffee.
Two hands clasp a cracked mug of coffee.
You take your God. This fool takes coffee.
Posted in poetry, sequence | Tags ghazal | no comments
Posted by Rich Magahiz
Fri, 15 Aug 2008 01:19:00 GMT
gunplay
won’t matter
the tympanum ignores
we always knew
unchecked growth
destroys
camouflaged
tiptoe everywhere
sunlight punishes irresponsibility
hide your children
as instars
emerge
rustling
by coldlight
twice three legs
the manifest mystery
ever remains:
extinction
Posted in horrorku, sequence | Tags hay(na)ku, mirror | no comments
Posted by Rich Magahiz
Tue, 22 Jul 2008 18:32:00 GMT
Do
not
bother
to bring a
toothbrush, or a book –
it’ll be over sooner than that –
but you’ll want a camera and a box of postcards.
And when they bring the tray of drinks
and make you sit up,
make a scene!
They made
us
wait.
Virgin employees sit in the cabin of a prototype
Virgin Galactic
SpaceShipTwo spacecraft at the Science Museum on February 14, 2007 in
London, England. The Virgin Galactic SpaceShipTwo is destined to be the
first ever vehicle for space tourism. The SpaceShipTwo will carry six
passengers and two pilots, offering a total flight time of 2 hours.
Around 200 firm reservations have been placed already with projected
flight costs estimated to be $200,000 per passenger.
Propulsion system for hybrid craft blows up
Posted in sequence, senryu | Tags fibonacci, mirror, space | no comments
Posted by Rich Magahiz
Fri, 20 Jun 2008 00:30:00 GMT
addressing
that sweet abyss:
“yes, yes”
shot full of holes, the substance of our dreams
Sklar, Gibson, and Yong –
their lungs full of
something grey…
floors turn into ceilings (halfway there)
still,
she had to go back…
the smell of burning hair
the purple ones are the girls, I think
there, boy, look!
that nebula there
that was your father
I count the stars; each one flares and dims
he tells her
“put on your other face,
the other”
flecked with hot sauce: angel wings, deep-fried
text, don’t write:
my senses have taken
leave of me
they took a risk. who remembers them?
the loudest prayer
ever said…
and it was answered
Posted in scifaiku, poetry, sequence | Tags religion, space | no comments
Posted by Rich Magahiz
Tue, 20 May 2008 12:53:00 GMT
her fat melts away
not the way
she’d intended
bank manager’s desk: a sulphrous haze
as we had been told
our guns were useless,
useless
with rockstar teeth, your friend’s head swivels
pretty roomy inside
and she gets good
parsec-age
mall rat gawks: “that’s what cordwood’s like”
reunited
his strong arms…
that’s not my Daddy
Posted in scifaiku, poetry, sequence | Tags alien, apocalyptic, invasion | no comments
Posted by Rich Magahiz
Sun, 02 Mar 2008 23:33:00 GMT
the wall of the Food Court - stars march up
inside the nail salon: Clan Jade Claws
perched dragon style: the loading dock sleeps
like water they part, Big and Tall Men
escalator down; the swish of bamboo
this septum-pierced punk - you too must fall
naked the sun shines… a lithe dark shape
Posted in poetry, sequence | Tags stellarenga | no comments
Posted by Rich Magahiz
Sat, 01 Mar 2008 01:34:00 GMT
Hot?
Sure,
I’d say
that one’s hot -
entering a room
walls buckle, the lights shift to blue,
sensitive meat seismometers trace out pressure waves,
and spacetime folds bend to accommodate the incarnate representation of ‘hot.’
Hats off to my friend Ian whose comment suggested the image.
Suhail al Muhlif: The brightest O-type star and one of only four WR stars bright enoughto have been observed spectroscopically in UV by COPERNICUS.
Posted in poetry, sequence | Tags fibonacci, space | no comments
