Obsidian Eagle's Blasphemous Bazaar - avant-garde poetics, indie publishing, nom-de-plume

Obsidian Eagle's

Blasphemous Bazaar

META-Poems For A New Millennium

<br>META-Poems For A New Millennium<br><br>

The Flagship of Anti-Poetry — est. 2010

Figurative Filaments

"Oh say can you see, my eyes, if you can — then my hair's too short!" ~ Hair

Figurative Filaments


In the theater of things sublime
Pilose players and pithy pipes combine.
Metonymy may mollify a meaningless mind
As apes at nature's apex art realigned.

Doubt but don't debate about design
Scroll past scrawling so inclined
Swear to secrecy your sacred find
Never overestimate anyone unkind

Where be the beacons that before shined?
We can't fast-forward, only rewind.
Wound up tight enough, try to unwind.
Within this verbose vortex every vibrant vertex is redefined


Bald figureheads grow febrile barring growling fibrous fandango
Set loose a top spins then dips midst tripped up tango
All eyes see photons refracted through their own prismatic angle
Skull-bound tongue has its way with one's brain once tangled

Come now ghost of Samson — let us grow our hair of strength —
What wondrous shimmering shalt be shown in its length?
Weird yet wild antenna attuned to hardwired wisdom;
Unleashed by shaman's shout from inner shrine to outer serfdom!

Image: Poster for a London production of Hair: The American Tribal Love-Rock Musical.

The Tempest Persists

Author's Note: This piece is a sequel to a poetic prequel titled The Whirlwind Cometh.

The Tempest Persists

It shows no signs of slowing down
This Mælstrom swallows leviathans whole
Everyone's days are affected somehow
It's futile to burrow underground like a mole!

Typhon blares his foghorn from on high
Corporeal creatures fear their eventual demise
Yet not taking any chances equals wasted lives
Get caught in the squall at least once before you die!

Tempus Fugit, we expire before knowing it
Blasts from the blizzard only rattle us a bit
Don't take shit lying low nor do idly sit
Life may be a struggle, but that's no excuse to quit!

Hover over heady heights of hurricane funnel
Rock the boat gripping left and right gunnel
Force your way toward rays beyond this tunnel
Come hither monsoongrow a river from this trickling runnel!


Shipwrecked islander try
Not becoming lamentably blind
Pry third eye
Wide open to luster
Lying beneath shallow waves
How they tint our perception with such subtle shades...

Bask in sun until dry
Pineal cones and rods decalcified
Awry state rectified
Blow back against bluster
Showing resistance to being effaced
Heaven Ho; windstorm's course has been wholly retraced...



* Except on Wall of Worthies
whereon rights are retained by respective authors.