Tag: free verse

Said the Prophet to his Captors

I came to do the will of the Father. I am not Jesus Christ. I am his servant.
I am the Lord’s servant, and he has called me out of the world.
I have no part in these questions or answers that you’re seeking.

Her name is Shear Jashub. Shear Jashub Esther Isaiah.
I am the servant of the Lord, and my name is Immanuel David Isaiah.
It mattereth not how good you think this case is against me.
God hath power to deliver me out of the hands of my enemies.

By the power of God, she was delivered to us.
I received her in the bonds of marriage.
She’s had a glorious experience.
We have had many trials, but we have seen God’s power.
And she knows who I am.

Joseph Smith was arrested almost fifty times.
I’m willing to suffer whatever the Lord God will.
Death, prison or death, it mattereth not.
The whole world is in bonds and chains.

You will reap great shame and sorrow.
I have more compassion for Shear Jashub Esther Isaiah than you do.
I have been obedient unto God Almighty.
Why should I submit to your accusations?

My name is Immanuel David Isaiah.
I say that your question is an accusation.
I never raped anybody. I never raped anybody.
I have only done what the Lord God Almighty commanded me to do.

You’re asking me to talk about things that are sacred and holy.

Composed of selected quotations from an interview with Brian David Mitchell, conducted on 12 March 2003. Some punctuation has been added. Submitted by Laura Elizabeth Woollett.

Fried bread

Taiwan’s hand grasp bread
A legendary experience of dough
It’s just doomed earthshaking. Because the
inoculation of thousands have experienced and
iceberg … Finally one thousand reopen. You see
it … The cold of each lovely white body.
Experienced pressed on warm body … Clean and
attractive turning on the state of the body. Blood
in the body boiling. Inflation. Tempestuous … A
lovely stunner available. Curse. Wrapped in
white silk garments of thin layer. Extremely
upset, body of waving … Use hand grasp, surface
silk involvement.

You move?

From a poster advertisement on a small fried bread stand in China. Transcribed by Sean Wilkerson and Herbert Woodward Martin.

Dancing on the Edge

His characters
Come on
And make small
Anodyne
Statements
Then compose their faces,
Into expressions
Of meaningful
Intent
Have you seen my glove?
Your glove?
Yes…my glove.
This glove?
The other glove.
Another glove?
Yes….have you
Seen it?
No.
Followed,
By an expression
Of Fleeting
Wind.

Taken from a TV review by A A Gill in the Sunday Times, 10th February 2013. Submitted by HWB.

N wen u get ur kids took away

N wen u get ur kids took away from u
u have no mates no bloke family hate u n
keep u from urban kids so u take drugs I
rant allowed my toddlers till I’ve had two yrs of
therapy c.b.t. no point comin off drugs yet
is there n now social services problem
my mamy two and my dad have even stopped
contact I’ve seen them twice in six week
once was Xmas day the other
was for a photo shoot I got done with the
picture for my Xmas present so I had to
c them for the photo I’m not allowed normally
all I ever wanted was to be a mamy ex fucked it
n now I’m just in too Much pain everyday
I c the photo I cry I’m a mess everyone
hates me anyway the public would
Deffo be glad meby ten people would
go to my funeral the rest of the town
would be glad coz I have done
lots of bad stuff but I’m 29 now
Give me a chance for god’s sake

(Comment from an online suicide blog. Submitted by Grace Andreacchi)

London Scarves

I began to notice scarves.
Chaps with scarves
particularly.

There’s the bohemian scarf
worn by elegant chaps
in the environs around Buckingham Palace
and among thespians,
a rather loose-tied scarf
loping down from the neck,
showing an elegant
carelessness.

There’s the university flick,
which has one leg dangling
down the front
and a single wind
around the throat
and the other leg dangling
down the back – a little bit
Dr Who
and a little bit juvenile lead.

There’s the good boy scarf,
neatly folded in front
and tucked in tight to protect
the throat and the chest,
no doubt with a Vicks rub
underneath.

There’s the scarf which is wound
round and round
the throat, the throttling scarf,
or I don’t care if anybody knows
I’m wearing a scarf but I really need to
keep warm.

Then there’s that funny Italian double loop
which arrived a couple of years ago,
where you shove both ends
through the loop
and bring it round your throat
and flash it off
in rather an unnecessarily
vain way,
although, it has to be confessed
(I’m afraid I’ve tried it once or twice),
is very warm.

From the BBC Radio 4 In Our Time newsletter from Melvyn Bragg, emailed 31 January 2013. Submitted by Lesley Ingram.

Handling Queens

Remember:
the queen is the main-
spring of the hive.

She is a very delicate
piece of mechanism.

(It is very risky
to bend
her or to
bounce
her.)

Some folk seem to think
queen bees are like
opportunities
and nettles and ferrets–
to be grasped with a heavy hand.

A queen is as fragile
as a wren’s egg.

From H. J. Wadey, The Bee Craftsman: A short guide to the life-story and management of the honey bee (A. G. Smith, 1947), p 47. Some punctuation has been changed. Submitted by Rebecca Resinski.

The Shooter

“We do this every night.
We go to a house,
we fuck with some people,
and we leave.”

He’s got a gun within reach.
He’s a threat … in that second
I shot him, two times in the forehead.

Bap! Bap!

The second time as he’s going down.
He crumpled to the floor in front of his bed
and I hit him again.

Bap!

Same place … he was dead. Not moving.
His tongue was out. I watched him take
his last breaths, just a reflex.

And I remember as I watched him
breathe out the last part of air, I thought:
is this the best thing I’ve ever done, or the worst?

From ‘I killed him’: US Navy Seal who fired the shot that killed Osama bin Laden breaks his silence, The Independent, 11 February 2013. The words come from the former Navy Seal, with ‘on’ (line 6) and ‘breath’ (11) removed. Submitted by Gabriel Smy.

Counting on Him

He’s thirty-three, for Chrissake,
thirty three. Thirty fucking three.
Three, three. This year
he turns thirty-four.
And he’s still expecting me
to sort his life out. What have I done
to get to deal with all his shit?
Some times he forgets
I’m still twenty-one.

Overheard outside the Southbank Centre, London, at about 3pm on February 2nd 2013. Submitted by Judi Sutherland.

Last Act

They came to stay
For days and days
To support me, be with me
At this sad time.

Drove me to the store
Then waited outside
At a respectful distance
From the cash register

They went to the cinema
Made me a sandwich
Giving me space
To be alone

They want to be sure
Everything is organised
To take some of the strain
Like finding the Will.

I have it.
I`m in it.
They`re not.

A conversation with an elderly bereaved relative, 18 January 2013. Submitted by Yanto Cramer.