June 14-20, 2010: John Tzikas and Julia Klatt-Singer with Alex Stolis

John Tzikas
jtzikas3@yahoo.com

 

Bio (auto)

My work should not be pinned down to one theme or an assortment of images, but to keen observations of people and my environment With every stroke of my pen, I learn more about people and myself in the process I make references to current and past events and pop culture I enjoy the works of Eliot, Frost and Blake as well as have undying gratitude to songwriters like Lennon, Jagger, Morrison and their ilk I have had poems published in Canada in Quills 2009 and Author’s Magazine 1995.

The following work is Copyright © 2010, and owned by John Tzikas and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.


State Your Mind State Your Case

Safe when sound
Tales that tell
All ears now
Eat my words

Young when wild
Out of date
Urge that knows
Right to say

Mask the truth
If not when
Nice when slow
Drop the hints

Speak so free
Trap the lying
Ask the times
Tease to please
Ears on phones

Yearn when proud
Out on date
Use a fork
Rode to scribes

Close the deal
All the way
See the scars
Eons of talk

Time to Kill

Watched the film
23 times
Still no hill of beans
I have a big problem
With the gin in my joints

Time to kill
Thanks for obsessing
As time goes by

Walking under the umbrella
Of complete togetherness
Cleanse away the loss
Cleansed by everything that’s lost

Time to kill
Hoping and possessing
All that’s mine

Maybe I’ll never
Have to play that song again
I’ll walk out
Like Bogart left Bergman
Behind
And revel in memories
When time goes by

Time to kill
Wishing and pretending

Time to kill
Smooth sailing
On the African Queen
With a mutineer

 

_______________________________

Julia Klatt-Singer
with Alex Stolis
baudelairious@aol.com

Bio (auto)

Julia Klatt-Singer and Alex Stolis live in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

The following work is Copyright © 2010, and owned by Julia Klatt-Singer and Alex Stolis and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

 

First confession

The space between my thoughts unravel and words fail,
tumble to the floor For you, I need a new alphabet,
a new conjunction to fill the gap between what is said

and what we know to be true I wish we could return
each tarnished word, each false truth, take each honest
lie and toss them into the Mississippi , to become clean

and drift away, never to be uttered again The words left
behind are dry and brittle in my hands, I wish you could
take them, place each, one by one, on my tongue, let me

swallow them, whole I want to learn the language of you,
want your hands to guide me into the lonely spaces
between your thoughts.