Poets for Human Rights

Words of Freedom

Q
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lost along the way.
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Started this discussion. Last reply by Dylan Mitchell Oct 14.

 

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Dude, this is an awesome poem! I've admired your work since the days of Journalspace. Women have long been mistreated/misunderstood in poetry. Nice to see a talented male poet telling it like it is. I like how you speak the truth. Don't stop!
October 14
sandra left a comment for Q
May 21

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At 2:59am on February 17, 2008, JANAJ-YANAY said…
really like what you posted here,.great poetry
At 2:47pm on February 5, 2008, Obi Adisa Asad said…
Q, what's up, brother? Glad to see you here on P4HR. Keep it moving.

Profile Information

Hometown:
Toronto/Halifax
Stage or Page or Both
Page
About Me:
I write.

I live at 3am.
Website:
http://beatjunkie.journalspace.com/
Favorite Poet or Author:
Reality,...

Generally Canadian and generally anglophone Jews from Montreal. Generally.

I like Toronto's old Bohemian Embassy crowd - before it went condo.

I think those Brits in powdered wigs had a nifty line or two.

But mostly they're musicians.
Her Safe Word was a Smack in the Mouth.

Her poem started easily enough
with a left handed smack in the mouth
"I'm too old to be empty", I said,
"...she needs
to bleed
me out."

"i fucked you
for your style", said she
"i know it's been a while, but i
never played with your mind,
i've taken nearly everything
in case you we're wondering
there's nothing but the dust of us
behind".


Her poem started easily enough
with left handed slant
and circle dot lowercase i.
Were the words of a birdsmith
and a maker of things
(not an artist but a genuine
lie)

Q's Blog

Q

Something Of A Rare Moment: Sleeping With The Lights On

Kiss with eyes wide open
Under dripping skies of cider
Neon lights and fireflies
Open wide eyes wider
Number every lash and lover
One through 32
Come as clean as bloody murder
Walk amongst the few
Spend the night with a beatnik icon
A junkie and a Jew
Turn the day off and the lights on
With eyes of bluest blue.

Posted on March 24, 2008 at 8:23am — 2 Comments

Q

Swingshift

It's late. I work nights. I work, for the most part,

alone. I sink into the gold light of sunrise as I begin my long walk home, and she sleeps -
and wakes when I walk through the door

as quietly as a happy man can. She misses the sun. I miss her. She never sees the golden sun rise above the hills or the beauty of the world at 4 a.m. I only see her when she sleeps. I watch her
dream about ghosts and dancing and warm wind on days of summer rain. I sink into myself

and wonder,

if the sun never… Continue

Posted on March 24, 2008 at 8:20am —

Q

Wisp








I tried to say it
but nothing came out
just a tiny wisp of smoke

'You are made of Oranges
and I of ash and soot
You were built by gods
and I constructed broke'

We were purified by Fire
made as strong as water oak
I float a whispered everlong on sacred oil and hope
Sink a deep blue kiss on you
Inhale a wisp of smok

Continue

Posted on February 5, 2008 at 9:13am — 1 Comment

 
 

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