Exclusive to Ninja, Poems by Russell.

Writers Rule... especially Ninja Writers.
User avatar
Manhal
ninja with training wheels
Posts: 72
Joined: Tue Sep 27, 2016 6:58 am
Location: Hamilton, ON
Contact:

Re: Exclusive to Ninja, Poems by Russell.

Postby Manhal » Sun Oct 02, 2016 5:18 pm

Lots to read. Really good.
I am only here a short time. Inshalla khair :) I love you all.
User avatar
cerrodepedro
Words. I kill them.
Posts: 856
Joined: Mon Mar 21, 2016 10:21 pm
Location: Intermountain West

Re: Exclusive to Ninja, Poems by Russell.

Postby cerrodepedro » Sun Oct 02, 2016 5:48 pm

Okay dude I can barely keep up with how prolific you are. THAT SAID I'm gonna set myself a goal to give feedback (from my limited perspective, which includes such credentials as three Spanish language poetry courses at the university, having lots of crushes on English instructors throughout grade school and undergraduate school, and an affinity for poetry compilations including Clementine von Radics and Pablo Neruda) on one of your poems each week, after the manner we were doing in other thread.

SO,
ravenrussell wrote:"Here"
Spoiler: show
"Here"

In rooms of quiet chairs, weighed down by coffee,
several men file galantly smiling.
A disorderd man calls to order,
but there are no orders here.
Suggestions hammered to crawling walls,
next to stigmata laden crosses.
She sheepishly folds her legs around a bookmark,
trying to hold in, or hide her eggs.
Jackals deliver erupting laughter.
13th reasons spill from Big Meat Hooks.
The temperature scales the stories.
as slithering slime trails toward her.
Is she safe here?
Am I safe here?
The title of this poem is left here.
In this butcher's locker,
with its God consciousness crying.
Her legs are spread more than the pages
of the coverless book they salivate over.
Her cornsilk hair, ruffled soon after
her corn is popped.
Many years later, back of a Cobalt,
she'll deliver to the world a bastard.
His name will be Bill, though the thrill
will still ilk her every vein and wrinkle.
Arteries lined with unfulfilled promises,
and a heart stepped on far more than 12 times.
A squall, a constant storm, wave blown port,
no moorage or seawall anymore.
For the halls devoured many souls before her,
and they spit the watermellon seeds,
all over her once wet, young fertile land.

By: Russell Jay Keenan
originally conceived 8/21/2016, rewritten 9/21/2016


CONTENT

The metaphors I feel would resonate with all my trauma survivor friends. First five stanzas especially do this, depicting passive aggression and corporate banality. In the name of a "better safe than sorry" approach to respect between genders pitted against each other, sometimes I wonder if the imagery is best left to the vulva havers, but I'm not the author of this poem, I don't have a vulva, and I think we've all said in the Literature section that at least in poetry, we're not going for "safe."

In any case, I don't know where I've seen the mechanism before of describing literal realities, physical descriptions of this woman, then blending those in to function as metaphor AS WELL. I like it. It's a bit of mind candy.

Circling back to the very visceral imagery, I think the extremes we see here serve as a stern reprimand to any fuckers looking to participate in the collective destruction of souls and bodies of people like the symbolic (or real?) person in this work. And that is a wonderful thing.

--

FORM

This is so much more prose-ish than most of your other poems! It's fun. It's flexible. The rhyme is certainly dissonant. You might consider structuring it up a bit more, but that said, I still dig it.

A positive element I would like to highlight are the two-stanza phrases, where you get this really staccato listing ("A squall, a constant storm, wave blown port") followed by a more flowed stanza in more conventional, legato flow ("no moorage or seawall anymore"). They are predictable but that's good because it allows for relaxed, contemplative reading.

--

To sum it up, though being painfully honest I'd love to see more structured rhyme, perhaps that was not your intention, and perhaps that is just fine. I like this. I could see it depicted with a sepia-toned video in the foreground and a driven but scorned corporate employee moving in and out of her crushing office existence.
Once was lost and now am lost; was blind but now I smoke
Image
Image
User avatar
ravenrussell
Keeper of Dark Mysteries..
Posts: 281
Joined: Mon Apr 25, 2016 5:16 am
Location: Walking the Road
Contact:

Re: Exclusive to Ninja, Poems by Russell.

Postby ravenrussell » Mon Oct 03, 2016 4:09 am

Thank you so much, for your well thought out words, for your candor, and for the time spent dedicated to helping me get better. I will read, and reread your thoughts, in an attempt to get past my ego. I haven't ever had such an in tune person write so much about one of my poems. I appreciate it more than you know. I will attempt to take your analysis to heart, for that is where my poetry comes from. Thank you for your kind words. But mostly, thank you for a direction to steer my poetry. I am moved to move.
Peace to all.
-Raven
Image
User avatar
ravenrussell
Keeper of Dark Mysteries..
Posts: 281
Joined: Mon Apr 25, 2016 5:16 am
Location: Walking the Road
Contact:

Re: Exclusive to Ninja, Poems by Russell.

Postby ravenrussell » Fri Oct 21, 2016 6:32 am

cerrodepedro wrote:Okay dude I can barely keep up with how prolific you are. THAT SAID I'm gonna set myself a goal to give feedback (from my limited perspective, which includes such credentials as three Spanish language poetry courses at the university, having lots of crushes on English instructors throughout grade school and undergraduate school, and an affinity for poetry compilations including Clementine von Radics and Pablo Neruda) on one of your poems each week, after the manner we were doing in other thread.


CONTENT

The metaphors I feel would resonate with all my trauma survivor friends. First five stanzas especially do this, depicting passive aggression and corporate banality. In the name of a "better safe than sorry" approach to respect between genders pitted against each other, sometimes I wonder if the imagery is best left to the vulva havers, but I'm not the author of this poem, I don't have a vulva, and I think we've all said in the Literature section that at least in poetry, we're not going for "safe."

In any case, I don't know where I've seen the mechanism before of describing literal realities, physical descriptions of this woman, then blending those in to function as metaphor AS WELL. I like it. It's a bit of mind candy.

Circling back to the very visceral imagery, I think the extremes we see here serve as a stern reprimand to any fuckers looking to participate in the collective destruction of souls and bodies of people like the symbolic (or real?) person in this work. And that is a wonderful thing.

--

FORM

This is so much more prose-ish than most of your other poems! It's fun. It's flexible. The rhyme is certainly dissonant. You might consider structuring it up a bit more, but that said, I still dig it.

A positive element I would like to highlight are the two-stanza phrases, where you get this really staccato listing ("A squall, a constant storm, wave blown port") followed by a more flowed stanza in more conventional, legato flow ("no moorage or seawall anymore"). They are predictable but that's good because it allows for relaxed, contemplative reading.

--

To sum it up, though being painfully honest I'd love to see more structured rhyme, perhaps that was not your intention, and perhaps that is just fine. I like this. I could see it depicted with a sepia-toned video in the foreground and a driven but scorned corporate employee moving in and out of her crushing office existence.


I changed it a bit. I'm still working on a finalized version. I did share this new version on FB, sorry Ninjas, but I'm looking for more feedback. I'm kinda in love with this poem.

"Here"
originally conceived 8/21/2016, rewritten 9/21/2016
Temporarily finalized 10/20/2016
(Fictional)
In rooms of quiet chairs, weighed down by coffee,
several men file full of smiles, gallantly
A disordered man calls to order,
but there are no orders here.
Suggestions hammered to crawling walls,
next to stigmata laden crosses falling.
She sheepishly folds her legs around a bookmark,
trying to hold in, or hide her eggs, starkly.
Jackals deliver erupting laughter shook.
13th reasons spill from Big Meat Hooks.
The temperature scales the stories.
as slithering slime trails toward her.
Is she safe here?
Am I safe here?
The title of this poem is left here.
In this butcher's locker, lying
with its God consciousness crying.
Her legs are spread more than the pages
of the cover-less book they salivate over.
Her corn silk hair, ruffled soon after staging,
her corn is popped. Cob full of fault.
Many years later, back of a Cobalt,
she'll deliver to the world a bastard.
His name will be Bill, though the thrill
will still ilk her every vein and wrinkle.
Arteries lined with unfulfilled promises,
and a heart stepped on far more than 12 misses.
A squall, a constant storm, wave blown port,
no moorage or seawall anymore, only sport.
For the halls devoured many souls before her,
and they spit the watermelon seeds, sure-handedly
all over her once wet, young fertile land.

By: Russell Jay Keenan
Peace to all.
-Raven
Image
User avatar
cerrodepedro
Words. I kill them.
Posts: 856
Joined: Mon Mar 21, 2016 10:21 pm
Location: Intermountain West

Re: Exclusive to Ninja, Poems by Russell.

Postby cerrodepedro » Sat Oct 22, 2016 3:43 pm

Oh shit! It got more perfunctory! AND THAT'S REALLY COOL. And I'm getting that since the "Arteries" line I completely missed your lyrical intentions originally. This is awesome. Thanks for putting it in here. I'm going to do a little write-up about another one shortly.
Once was lost and now am lost; was blind but now I smoke
Image
Image
User avatar
ink
God's Fountain Pen
Posts: 2159
Joined: Mon Mar 21, 2016 8:22 pm

Re: Exclusive to Ninja, Poems by Russell.

Postby ink » Sun Oct 23, 2016 4:53 am

ravenrussell wrote:"Here"
originally conceived 8/21/2016, rewritten 9/21/2016
Temporarily finalized 10/20/2016
(Fictional)
In rooms of quiet chairs, weighed down by coffee,
several men file full of smiles, gallantly
A disordered man calls to order,
but there are no orders here.
Suggestions hammered to crawling walls,
next to stigmata laden crosses falling.
She sheepishly folds her legs around a bookmark,
trying to hold in, or hide her eggs, starkly.
Jackals deliver erupting laughter shook.
13th reasons spill from Big Meat Hooks.
The temperature scales the stories.
as slithering slime trails toward her.
Is she safe here?
Am I safe here?
The title of this poem is left here.
In this butcher's locker, lying
with its God consciousness crying.
Her legs are spread more than the pages
of the cover-less book they salivate over.
Her corn silk hair, ruffled soon after staging,
her corn is popped. Cob full of fault.
Many years later, back of a Cobalt,
she'll deliver to the world a bastard.
His name will be Bill, though the thrill
will still ilk her every vein and wrinkle.
Arteries lined with unfulfilled promises,
and a heart stepped on far more than 12 misses.
A squall, a constant storm, wave blown port,
no moorage or seawall anymore, only sport.
For the halls devoured many souls before her,
and they spit the watermelon seeds, sure-handedly
all over her once wet, young fertile land.

By: Russell Jay Keenan


im just trying to wrap my head around all of these metaphors here.. lots of symbolism, lots to unpack. meaty. right on man, love it!
we are, what we allow to occupy us..





Image
User avatar
rc44
ninja with training wheels
Posts: 62
Joined: Tue Oct 25, 2016 5:50 am

Re: Exclusive to Ninja, Poems by Russell.

Postby rc44 » Fri Oct 28, 2016 5:57 am

some great stuff here, I love the different perspectives.

A disorderd man calls to order,
but there are no orders here.
Suggestions hammered to crawling walls,
next to stigmata laden crosses.
She sheepishly folds her legs around a bookmark,
trying to hold in, or hide her eggs.


This really caught my eye. It gave me the imagery and the snippets of shame.

My feet are moist from the day.
Each toe cracking, bound up like
Okinawan little girls, soothing
snaps seem to be screaming.

the stanza here is haunting.

Great work all around here.
User avatar
ravenrussell
Keeper of Dark Mysteries..
Posts: 281
Joined: Mon Apr 25, 2016 5:16 am
Location: Walking the Road
Contact:

Re: Exclusive to Ninja, Poems by Russell.

Postby ravenrussell » Fri Oct 28, 2016 10:55 am

rc44 wrote:some great stuff here, I love the different perspectives.

A disorderd man calls to order,
but there are no orders here.
Suggestions hammered to crawling walls,
next to stigmata laden crosses.
She sheepishly folds her legs around a bookmark,
trying to hold in, or hide her eggs.


This really caught my eye. It gave me the imagery and the snippets of shame.

My feet are moist from the day.
Each toe cracking, bound up like
Okinawan little girls, soothing
snaps seem to be screaming.

the stanza here is haunting.

Great work all around here.


Thank you for your kind words. I'm glad to hear someone new, enjoying my poetry. I have oodles to give, and oh so much more left up in me.
Peace to all.
-Raven
Image
User avatar
ravenrussell
Keeper of Dark Mysteries..
Posts: 281
Joined: Mon Apr 25, 2016 5:16 am
Location: Walking the Road
Contact:

Re: Exclusive to Ninja, Poems by Russell.

Postby ravenrussell » Wed Dec 28, 2016 6:32 am

This is a Ninja Manifesto
a term of time, to grow,
to realize growth established.

Heads of the heads,
of the Robert Red,
to Kaleel with find the rjk birth

into the vast majority of misinformed
you've had the match lit, when we was
formed.
Stormed over by the vast disregard for that attune and the ones who can't stop writing.

those with keyboards and those with VR
we'll 3D format send you pretimezone, pre where you aired.

Spare ribs of the frame,
will always grow strong again.
Energy never goes away.
My spine will be glowing
far into the coming days.
in a blaze, I spin the top.
rocking kit kat, who's just writing to ghostdogg and
my main squeeze, the beaut.
Spoke of the cycle spinning,
we're all part of this thing.

rjk
Peace to all.
-Raven
Image
User avatar
ghostdogg
Rewind. Spit. Scratch. See Heaven.
Posts: 442
Joined: Sat Aug 06, 2016 10:41 pm

Re: Exclusive to Ninja, Poems by Russell.

Postby ghostdogg » Wed Dec 28, 2016 9:40 am

Aye! That's what's up! :) Honored to make it in your work man.
User avatar
ravenrussell
Keeper of Dark Mysteries..
Posts: 281
Joined: Mon Apr 25, 2016 5:16 am
Location: Walking the Road
Contact:

Re: Exclusive to Ninja, Poems by Russell.

Postby ravenrussell » Thu Dec 29, 2016 3:30 am

as I in your musical vision come alive. NinjaStrong#
Peace to all.
-Raven
Image
User avatar
ravenrussell
Keeper of Dark Mysteries..
Posts: 281
Joined: Mon Apr 25, 2016 5:16 am
Location: Walking the Road
Contact:

Wrote this to RZA (Ninja Exclusive)

Postby ravenrussell » Thu Dec 29, 2016 3:52 am

Magnificent magnifying mind, used like a curse.
Your purse be droppin hearses, lipstick like a verse.
The homeboys be writting stories of your venus,
though last call penises need not nod, they wallflower
pupic bone broken from birth, playing Viagra swords.
The power to scour the bins of history, spit up filagree.
The mutts bob their head to agree. In split infinite serenity.
Bulbs of the hardly finished and popping, colors so immense
Crayola got a problem, but if you ask em later,
their names hues and shades off of what only women can see.
Studies of everything, with numbers in every direction.
Mazes of proclaimed soft drink mascots, pulling Genesis
games down the drain, literally killing the Saturn fest,
Dreamcast was a nightmare not happening, just too broke to fix.
Tricks the mind with lightsaber like sweltering life the butterly that demands the

attention of the reader...


slow with quatrains of nothingness...

and drip, drip, will will my will, block the oil spill,
it's a thrill to be as illed as ill as ill as you are.
strip, strip, spill undergarments onto plates,

of decadence, spill the night away
spill the night away, ...\

...\

'''''''''''''\

;'''''////////////////////!!!!!!\
Peace to all.
-Raven
Image
User avatar
ravenrussell
Keeper of Dark Mysteries..
Posts: 281
Joined: Mon Apr 25, 2016 5:16 am
Location: Walking the Road
Contact:

Re: Exclusive to Ninja, Poems by Russell.

Postby ravenrussell » Thu Dec 29, 2016 4:18 am

I've hit 420 views, time to toke up gents and gentles. Love you all ninjas. Except that bot that keeps hitting us, what a twat. I hate the things. lol peace out. have a wonderful new years eve, remember marijuana is better when its legal, from wa state. Green me in the greens lord. Hallejuaia, or whatever. Bored, smoking'
Peace to all.
-Raven
Image
User avatar
ravenrussell
Keeper of Dark Mysteries..
Posts: 281
Joined: Mon Apr 25, 2016 5:16 am
Location: Walking the Road
Contact:

Re: Exclusive to Ninja, Poems by Russell.

Postby ravenrussell » Fri Dec 30, 2016 7:01 am

INK if you take a liken to this poem, please title it again. Pretty please. lol.



The embattled imparting of wisdom.
The end of shattered fears, sharp tears,
cutting on their way out. A shiv plunged,
shivers expunged from mouthpiece yes men.
Antique angels with their satisfied haloes.
Browsing the slum for coherent bums.
Trying too hard to fit in, peg hole misshapen.
Vacant stares from those who were friends.
Thousand mile destinations, of empty counterparts.
Counterpoint, harmonic establishment,
and me with a half broken kazoo, belting dissonance.
Cruel mistress of the evening, endo maintenance,
ego's on the mike, singing songs by a nodding addict.
Swallow the holes in your arms, spit up the regression.
I'm thouroughly enmeshed, blessed but broken.

Going's on, in full quadraphoic stereo.
Manic depressive canaries, testing my mine.
Feeling the intoxicated beaks speak truth,
as their slandered and pandered feathers fall out.
This grace, the way it mixes our forms of misery,
and turns out a recipe for angel food cake.
We're iced in test tube newcomers. Hoping,
using chemistry as a beginning to spirituality.
Dance until your heart hurts, then shake it some more.
The richter scale of how you crack me.
A faultline, finally objectively looked over.
A spasm, a delerium tremun of past, present, future.
a series of moments, to reach solidarity and structure.
Similarities to the clowns with the painted drobe.
Strobe, the struck and the once twice removed.
The coffee clutch manners in a burnt bean cowboy's getty up.

Stark and utter upheaval, removal of the old us,
a brand new model, upgraded, moves into the garage.
The oil and the steam build up tranquily when we
no longer use them, time to bloom into new crude,
when again as a society we are nude,
exhibiting the cancer of a throat doctor's hum and happenstance.
Peace to all.
-Raven
Image

Return to “Literature”

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 8 guests