The Nox Antholgy - Dark Poets Against Abuse
| Survival The pages of this collection are works donated by a caring community of poets and artists. In lieu of direct payment to these creators, a regular donation is made to CASA (Community Action Stops Abuse), a safe haven organization for women and children seeking to free themselves from abusive and violent environments. Please honor the artistic donation that these creators have made, by visiting and patronizing their websites, or sending feedback and inquiries to the addresses provided. _______________________________________________________________________________ |
| Left at the Stop by James Houtain |
Washing on the line HEY it's gone to smell cause the air's not clean here / Mom's in the kitchen rattling pans, she
hides there ya know -- I told Dad I would catch a mouse and he said IF I EVER SEE YOU WITH A MOUSE YOU LITTLE
SHIT so I changed my plan
-- I know
There was a cat I wanted to pet when I was little, yeah, you know, Dad didn't like me looking out the window so he
put a black garbage bag up like a curtain and taped it and it couldn't be opened any more. But I worked it, and got
so the corners could be peeled looking for that cat yeah / Mom said come away
-- I know that cat wouldn't scratch me
I was only little, I thought if I pissed on that curtain he would have to get rid of it / Mom said I don't know why he does
things like that he's got nerves that's all and she was crying
-- so I stopped trying to see the kitty
She took me on the bus sometimes with her and I thought if I fall down just when it comes, after, to take us home,
it won't wait , it'll leave us yeah / Mom had to wash that garbage bag wash it cause he said it was going back up BY
GOD and not a new one either.
(c) 2001 James Houtain
______________________________________________________________________________________________
hides there ya know -- I told Dad I would catch a mouse and he said IF I EVER SEE YOU WITH A MOUSE YOU LITTLE
SHIT so I changed my plan
-- I know
There was a cat I wanted to pet when I was little, yeah, you know, Dad didn't like me looking out the window so he
put a black garbage bag up like a curtain and taped it and it couldn't be opened any more. But I worked it, and got
so the corners could be peeled looking for that cat yeah / Mom said come away
-- I know that cat wouldn't scratch me
I was only little, I thought if I pissed on that curtain he would have to get rid of it / Mom said I don't know why he does
things like that he's got nerves that's all and she was crying
-- so I stopped trying to see the kitty
She took me on the bus sometimes with her and I thought if I fall down just when it comes, after, to take us home,
it won't wait , it'll leave us yeah / Mom had to wash that garbage bag wash it cause he said it was going back up BY
GOD and not a new one either.
(c) 2001 James Houtain
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Pain
by Marysia K
I want you to understand
The attraction. The
Paradigm shift
Inside my mind.
Pain is just a sensation,
Like any other.
Touch can be as ugly
When unwanted.
It is a flame inside you,
Like pleasure it wipes away
All thought. It knocks you
Breathless, quickens your pulse.
by Marysia K
I want you to understand
The attraction. The
Paradigm shift
Inside my mind.
Pain is just a sensation,
Like any other.
Touch can be as ugly
When unwanted.
It is a flame inside you,
Like pleasure it wipes away
All thought. It knocks you
Breathless, quickens your pulse.
| Strange Flesh by Marysia K She's been painted in a picture She's been fucked against a wall But no one seemed to notice There was nothing there at all Not the teachers Not the lovers Not the hollow passing strangers Passing empty in the hall Passing nothing, nothing at all When she looks into their faces she sees not recognition When she looks at her hands she sees Strange flesh (c) 1999 Marysia K |
| Fractured by Marysia K None of it makes any sense and my eyes jump back and forth out of my control and I feel like I'm spinning around and around even though I'm standing perfectly still on ground I don't even believe exists and the wind is singing to my heart like the mother I never had, cradling me in her powerful fingers and I can't quite understand how anyone can believe in anything at all except for the feel of the wind against their skin, touching them, holding them, rising up and fucking them without requiring any emotional breakdowns afterwards. When she touches me she leaves no tears and I would give my life to only her if I could escape the pulling, crying, hateful multitudes that rip at my soul and leave gaping wounds that I run away and hide and lick in anger and confusion and pain and longing for a better way. There has to be a better way. (c) 2000 Marysia K ______________________________________________________________________________________________ |
| We thank the contributors to this page, and ask that readers respect the copyrights of these creators. Do not reprint or distribute any of the poetry or artwork displayed here without permission. |
James Houtain lives and works in Oakland, California. His book, The Underpass, is a poetic
exploration of the isolation and violence in families and the youth subculture in California
border towns of the 1970's. Comments and inquiries may be sent to him at his e-mail address:
jhoutain1@yahoo.com.
exploration of the isolation and violence in families and the youth subculture in California
border towns of the 1970's. Comments and inquiries may be sent to him at his e-mail address:
jhoutain1@yahoo.com.
Marysia K was born in Scotland and currently lives in London. She is an actor, an artist,
and a musician in addition to her work as a poet. Her song Then We Slide was featured
in the acoustic rock section of mp3.com, and reached #1 in one of their various charts. Prints
of her artwork, and fan photos, are available on her website marysia.com.
and a musician in addition to her work as a poet. Her song Then We Slide was featured
in the acoustic rock section of mp3.com, and reached #1 in one of their various charts. Prints
of her artwork, and fan photos, are available on her website marysia.com.
Everything is a state of
Mind. Pain makes me feel
Alive, and when it has
Passed I am left hazy and soft.
I need the fire, the ice,
The whip crack of reality.
It is like a fifth dimension,
Everything is so real.
Other times I feel so separate,
So untouched by life.
Looking in from outside
The pain reaches in and pulls me through.
(c) 1996, 1997 Marysia K
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