Explode: Epic Poetry - Revised Edition

By E. Maria Shelton Speller

The found art in Explode are poesy movements. Dada (Contrapposto poets succumbing to peaches...) It sounds like Jazz (See Sisyphus scorn at amber headlights in Paris dew...) Looks like Impressionism ( is day of rest I worship Santa Barbara and the celestial trip I straddle...) Expressionism (On the Orange Line... I saw dog paws tattooed on

• Language: English
• Publisher: Go To Publish
• Release date: Sep 22, 2021
• ISBN: 9781647495398

E. Maria Shelton Speller

Author E. Maria Shelton Speller, spent the early part of her career in the United States Air Force; BFA with honors from Northeastern University is a member of ZICA Creative Arts and Literary Guild and Boston’s own Zone Poets.  Published by Arula Records, “Spoken Live at the Lizard Lounge!”  Featured reader at the Lizard Lounge, the Cantab, and Squawk Coffeehouse, Cambridge MA; Duomo, Berkeley CA; Carol’s Books, Sacramento CA, Bohemian Cavern, Washington DC; Studio 15, Brentwood MD and has read on Brandies University Radio and the Underground Radio in Cambridge MA. Resides in Washington DC.

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Explode: Epic Poetry

Revised Edition

Copyright © 2021 by E Maria Shelton Speller

ISBN-ePub: 978-1-64749-539-8

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher or author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Although every precaution has been taken to verify the accuracy of the information contained herein, the author and publisher assume no responsibility for any errors or omissions. No liability is assumed for damages that may result from the use of information contained within.

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Contents

[The Godforsaken]

Fun Espresso

The Foreword to Insomnia’s Istanbul

Yellow Tape (A Memoir)

Directing the Master Scene in the Mirror

One Single Act of Love

Queen

A Valentine for Angela

Bars and Verses for the South Side

Picasso ~ The Bohemian*

ONE ACT PLAY – SPRINGBOARD! (Ft. The Curtain Call)

Luda’s Soliloquy~ Miles Language I

Luda’s Second Soliloquy ~ Miles Language II

The Orange Line I

The Orange Line II

Tagging Dystopia

MLK Was Here

Transition

Zeus Is On Top

Libido #2

Pigs and Prophets

Cowboys and Indians and Torture Stories

My Condolences

Dystopia

I Know Now

Spontaneous Ode to COVID-19

Woodstock! (WIP (x Bars)) [Reserved][Reserved] 3.0

The Life of Pie

I’ve been inside Giovanni’s Room with Yukio Mishima and the Subterraneans, in Dada with Marcel Duchamp, in love always with The Supremes, listening to Ryuichi Sakamoto, Erykah Badu and Bob Dylan’s Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie, remembering Edie, Tina Chow, and Miles Davis, reading Camille Paglia’s Sexual Personae, Octavio Paz, Toni Morrison and Raymond Williams again. . . taken with Rage Against the Machine, wondering if Me’Shell Ndege’ Ocello can do it again, (Do you think she would do it for the girls in pink - in the trenches? I need a poet with bass on her breast-plate, a siren in space. . .) still wanting a Fat Boy, black Lab, or a Short-haired German Pointer -- and finally to open the perfect art cafe/salon soon…

Explode is dedicated to

My Mother

Catherine I. McCants Dasher Shelton

We were meant to be -- because we happened.

[The Godforsaken]

Before the godforsaken

had time to swallow. . .

They knew who first

judged what out of dreams

came truly real*

and he was fastened to a rock

and they knew who

stirreth up the people and dippeth his hand**

in the dish with Judas

and he was nailed to a cross

And they read books within books

about wise and foolish virgins

and signs of the end

and love and judgment

and they heard God talk

through the mouths of men

who talked about him

his son and the holy ghost

When spectators provided the notion of reality

Christ and Prometheus

were objectified and subjectified allegory

spheres of hope and rebellion

courage and prudence

temperance and justice

and how they chose to read it

in the time before terror

depended on what level

they chose to see it

Before the godforsaken

had time to swallow. . .

They reused and refashioned the heads

of emperors in their own image

because they could

They reinforced power and authority

with legitimate political imagery

like the Egyptian Pharaoh Ramses

and General Holofernes

They respected the classical past

in fertile crescents of greed

and rejected classical design

in the center of ruins

They housed the rock in the dome

on which Muhammad ascended to heaven

and hung the Virgin Mary’s blue robe

in Chartres Cathedral

When denizens of form said

Nothing is new. . .

The godforsaken asked

Since when?

since the Lion Gate

since the Great Sphinx of Giza

since Doric and Ionic orders

since the Palette of King Narmer

since the Parthenon

since Stonehenge

Since when?

They stood in the light of starry nights

in the drum, coffers, and concrete cylinders

of uninterrupted space in the Pantheon

and made no apologies for ripping off

master tracks from the past

and heard the hip hop train

sampling every post-hit

with unripe music and blood

and mounted the heads of gods

on the manifest

like the catalog of procreation

in Genesis

They heard his Mother

three blocks away

on parallel streets

screaming redundantly

You won’t take my child!

You won’t take my child!

at the vigil where transvestites

whispered how many times

her child was stabbed in the neck

Lord have mercy!

Who are these motherfuckers?

on the bottom rung of the Ladder of Descent

trying to climb up

on the backs of allegories

floating in fleeting and airy hope

part of the story

part of the sin

Before the godforsaken

had time to swallow. . .

They knew

that love ends

as it begins again

on rocks and crosses

in books and dreams

and politics and imagery

under domes and temples

in music and song

and blood and death

in stories and sin

and in the hands

of God

The swallows are building.

*Aeschylus’ Prometheus Bound

*** Matthew 26: V21, V22, V23, V25

Fun Espresso

Egad, the Casbah in Santa Barbara

Part of the fun is the embrace of perfume

Cafe Angelica Emerald Crème

A sabbatical delay waiting to be served

A