Saturday Pomes & Words, 22/03/2025 - Kundalini Twenty-Three to Twenty-Five
A Final Convolution, and a promo code!
Welcome to the final three poems in the Kundalini collection! If you missed the previous, Twenty to Twenty-Two, click there (that’s also the previous Pomes & Words, by the way). Or to start at the beginning with One to Three, click ye there. You can of course read through the entire collection by following the links at the bottom of each instalment. The other option is the Alters Index, which has all the links, to both the poetry and various other eclectic wonders.
I say final, but there are some extras in this collection, but I’m going to make them paid-only. If you do like my poetry, however, and you would like to read more of it, then never fear, I have a lot more where that came from and I’m sure I’ll get around to posting some of them at some point. I’ve also been writing some new stuff, which is lovely.
In the meantime, I do have some exciting news for you, which is that I actually went ahead and published this Kundalini as an e-book, which is already available!
You can purchase this lovely little e-book copy at the following link, which is the UBL for the e-book (from there you can choose/select your favourite outlet apparently). Please note it’s not available on Amazon, as I am boycotting Bezos and am loathe to allow that wankerous man to pilfer any of my hard-earned income, given he’s done fuck all to contribute to it.
No, I don’t care if wankerous isn’t a word. It is now.
I should also tell you that I am doing a little promo offer for the month of Aries (that’s until 19 April, for those of you not into astrology), which will give you 50% off. However, that’s only on Smashwords, to which that link will transport you, and the promo code is this: YJWTK.
That would make it $1.75 of your petrodollars, which I believe isn’t much more than the price of a coffee these days (that’s neoliberalism for you). So, if you would love to ‘buy me a coffee’ and get a nice little e-book of sexy poetry into the bargain, then click ye there, darling subscribers. And I will be genuinely delighted and grateful and, well, truly chuffed to bits. Leave a review too if you like. Share, even!
Did I tell you you’re my darling subscribers? Course I did.
Anyhow, I do hope to publish a printed version at some point, but two little snags I’ve encountered initially are that 1/ according to the Draft2Digital info for their print-on-demand thing a print book needs to be a minimum of 64 pages, and this is a relatively short poetry collection which, with the extras, runs around the 50 page mark. I was thinking I could write some 21st anniversary essay or something but that might end up too self-indulgent. The other option is I could combine it with my second collection. 2/ D2D doesn’t allow you to disable distribution to that aforementioned vulture capitalist online marketplace which, presumably, despite the moniker, has no problem whatsoever with rampant deforestation in South America. E-books you can select which outlets it goes to, but not print books. I think that’s silly, me, so in the meantime, I shall do a bit more research and see what gives.
Finally, the second collection, which is called The New, is a bit longer than Kundalini, being 40-odd poems. It was written at the same time, during the same Prozac-fuelled mental fever (or fervour, better word), but it’s somewhat brighter. Maybe I semi-consciously separated all those poems into dark and light. Although there are still a lot of darker ones, although more in the sort of Romanticist tradition (once a goth, always a goth, you know).
Given this has already been written, I am minded to publish it as an e-book (to begin with) fairly soon, but also publish some of them here on my Substack. Most of them would have to be paid-only, however (I’m really going for the ‘I want to earn a living as a writer’ thing - so forgive me for that one), in the sense that I would post them in little groups of three, and put the paywall after the first one. We’ll see.
Ok, I will stop now with the intro. Here are the final three in the collection. As always, the [square brackets] is the alt.title, and you’ve got your Fibonacci thing too.
End of intro.
[Western]
High Moon
You are a mystery to me 1 Oasis girl 2 Mountains that crash behind you in the distance 3 Like waves, Dreadful dreams and stranded delusions 5 All these different ways I crave you, image In time. 8 It requires no craft To think of you in moments like these Or fantasise Some bastard belief in prefabricated bliss Or deign to let you always 13 Get you want my deviant heart. Sift this golden start and find me there, Cuts in summer, the bloodflow promises, In your stream, Rocks my dangerous self to sleep In phases like these.
[Ayshea]
Your Red Horizon
Doped up and silent, 1 Stasis, not even watching now, 2 Let me alone and not feeling, 3 In between, Like worlds, colder worlds outside the golden zone, 5 Subjected to constant hits, Asteroids and bombs, harder Words you say 8 And it’s all the same to me. Your rings you gave me lies, in my hands. Once I was a landscape, all hills and monuments, Valleys and mountainous feelings, and 13 When I stood there weeping Before you, the first among us, lonely, I wish you to care but you do not, now, As if even if you then cared you not now And you could butterfly these arteries in a single moment, my love. You could twist. You could cut. 21 I wish you could see my feelings now, How different I am today, when I spend these nights Up tight and close dreaming A wake of you still, For I still slower Think of you these days, and no, It is fine, lust I understand, you are gone, lost, these memories are A desert, and you, an eye shadow, a dislocated hue, Dust across the ocean you, you. Sometimes I leap out of water as I make my way towards you, As if it feels strange to feel 34 Air beneath me. As I cross this sea It is all a desert, clouds an ocean with all the water gone and you, Witchcraft you, my haunting, my other half, You are a mirage. Let it go at that.
[Contentious]
Thinking Nowadays Thinking
There is some poison in mine, 1 A field of difference, a lifetime 2 None remarking and coming 3 I am a ghost too soon and before this mind Will watch and wonder, withering 5 In this day and age, and find her self not here Not there, not anywhere nowadays. 8 This society says untimely things, It feels as if it feels at all it feels Other than mine, my own mind, For I am fatigued and faint and strained Estranged, disillusioned, slowed, entwined. 13 I am not you. But you must look at me, As you do now, in wonder, in withering, As if you unwind my sounds, My mind, my meandering and criminal timing And my limited city dwelling and These unscrupulous ways as if 21 Another sorcerer singing some epitaph You chance upon my meaning, but misunderstand. For I will lead you like a lover Into another labyrinth and lay down My soul my soul madness and succour Succubus incubus sour and sweet And sometimes I sound as if I treat all friends like a trick of the heart And start again as if, feeling for that is what it is No more than this, a dreaming. A scheme. 34 Seems as if I have said Too much again For I wither sometimes and lay down dead And gone and singing aloud incredulous Intoned lies to lovers lost and I will Lever her unloving breast and pretend I love her still For I am not who I am and I am a crime, My self I am a distant time, in a mad society An asylum like signed, a fire goddess, a demon, Time Consumed The one who stands on the edge of it all And swarms it all yet still, finely manages To feel.
Well, I did it! I actually published all of these poems!
You might not think that’s an achievement but truth is it really is, because of how personal the whole thing is. Maybe you noticed that. I don’t know.
Anyhow, if you really appreciated all of this, then I would love your likes and your shares and your comments.
And of course you can always buy me that coffee, so to speak. It’s a really lovely little book and I’m really proud of it. Turning a negative into a positive, kind of thing. I went through a hell of a lot of shit, is the basic story of my life.
But I survived. And now I am thriving.
And that means I win. And they lose.
Thank you so much for reading this far. It means the world to me.
There’ll be some more poetry later. I’m sure.
And when there is, here shall a link be also…
For the next Pomes & Words, though, which is some amusing microfiction fragments, click there.
Lovely poems, full of emotion... you are much braver than I, I tend towards doggerel, towards things that make me laugh, when I write "poetry." You write the real thing, though.
Unfortunately, "wankerous" has already been coined, but it's still a wonderful word that should be spread around. One of the best uses of it that I've tracked down so far is in a song called "Good Afternoon:"
"The lyrics are catchy and easy to sing along to even with their creative phrases like 'wankerous cantankerous buffoon...'" (https://eagleviewnews.com/2022/12/12/spirited-is-a-surprisingly-dark-christmas-carol/)
I have already written up a poem for my Sunday microdose (it was too much fun to wait - I jotted it down on a bit of paper in my pocket as I worked on chores!). I'll still be crediting you with introducing me to the term... I will am looking forward to enjoying your poems in a few hours, once the chores are finally completed for the day ...