Never…
Thin
Smart
Young
Tall
White
…Enough
© T. Altman 2017
poetry
Emerging Writers Festival
The Emerging Writers Festival is happening in Melbourne, Australia next month.
The Emerging Writers’ Festival is a not-for-profit organisation whose foundations are built on supporting emerging writers. They are a place where creativity and innovation is celebrated, where new talent is nurtured and where diverse voices from across Australia are represented.
For all sessions and workshops check out their website here:
Poem: Hot New Trend
Superfoods are all the rage
Despite race, sex or age
Urine drinking on trend
To heal or send round the bend
Everyone’s a bloody sage
© T. Altman 2017
Poem: Not Supposed to Be Here
I’m not even supposed to be here today…
Color blinded
Shoe polish stench
Confused and convoluted
Confined in Dante’s 9’s
“I assure you” intoned
“We are open” explained
Nothing quick about it
Purgatory peddler
Conversing rapidly
Fired with intellectual accuracy
Landing with culturally apt referencing
Death star corpse dance
Badly lit yet exposed
Stoner wisdom 37 in all
Free will is yours
I’m not supposed to be here today…
© T. Altman 2017
Poem: War explained to child
Speaking to my nephew about my father who fought in the Balkans (Albanian Forgotten War):
I once asked him:
“What was it like to shoot people in war?”
Sighing, shoulders slumped
Faraway eyes, swallows hard
Staring down at weathered hands
Sighing then inhaling sharply
“We didn’t know what we were shooting at –
Deep in those forests.
It was dark, damp and dank.
We all suffered.
I don’t know…”
He looks away…
We never spoke about it again.
© T. Altman 2017
Poem: Depression
Flashes thrust upon me
Struggling, pushing memory
Carbon monoxide dreams whisper
Come greet us drifter
Don’t want to sleep like Anne
Just let me give a damn
© T. Altman 2017
National Poetry Month: April
So National Poetry Month is in April and started a few days ago.
This year I will be celebrating this month by writing a poem everyday as part of #thedirtythirty challenge.
Don’t Tell Me
Don’t Tell Me
Don’t tell me what I can or cunt do
Don’t try to censor me with your personal bias
I am not your mouth piece and never claimed it
I don’t crave your acceptance or require it
Try stifling my speech and see what a territorial bitch I can be
Try throwing archaic values you’ve placed upon locution I feel empowered by
Sisters in solidarity is what we should be
Instead the use of one term divides us
Disagree with me and shame me down
Shame on you for censoring my language
I reclaim the noun – the verb – the word
I use it proud and loud
For I am the CUNT who takes it back and brings it to the fore
For I am the CUNT who refuses to bend to your fickle contempt
For CUNTS everywhere –
I seize and celebrate whilst waving your policing views adieu
(C) T. Altman 2017
Remedy
Remedy
Stumbling preeminent neediness
Into stony seas of logical distress
Exploring with detected trepidation
Analyzing abysmal wretchedness
Commanding intelligent selflessness
For what purpose, point and pine
For the tumbling truth
For the painful promise
For the rhyming ridicule
For the salacious savvy
For the remedy of writing
Resolutely the enormity is me
(c) T. Altman 2017
Big Black Dog
Big Black Dog
He growls
He barks
He bites
He whimpers and yelps
Its Me who owns him
Yet He dictates my moods
(c) T. Altman 2017
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