Thanks To All My Readers

 

I just want to take this time out to say thanks to all you poets and readers out there, that purchased a copy of my poetry anthology, “Zen is Now,” online @ the Smashword site. I am sincerely honored to see so many readers.  I hope you all enjoy the browsing experience.

I also would like to invite those of you who haven’t already, to purchase a copy. Lastly, I would like to say that I always look forward to hearing honest feedback from you, if you care to shoot me an email or social media message.

As always, I’m wishing everyone to stay well during these trying covid times. So, keep in touch. All the Best!

-Daniel Canada aka Obsidian

Here is the site: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1035093

My email address: lordlumiel@yahoo.com

History is Cyclical

 Egyptian Dendara Temple 1995 BC. What does that tell us?

-Daniel Canada aka Obsidian

About Zen is Now Book Release

 

I just want to take this time out to express my gratitude to all you poets and readers out there, that purchased an advance, “Pre-release” copy of my poetry anthology, “Zen is Now,” online @ the Smashword site. I am sincerely honored to see so many orders.  I would like to take this opportunity to invite those of you who haven’t already, to place your orders in before the release date of September 26^th. Thank you all kindly and I look forward to hearing feedback from you as well!

Here's the Smashword site: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1035093

-Obsidian

Farewell Mine Captain Jay Chollick Poet Laureate of the World

 

 

No Bio b-s, not for me, just blow-hard pride, dull facts that mask thin poetry -Jay Chollick Madman Speaking New storms up there—thunder in the head—bravado-brained, it bursts! and with such force, that I, with terrifying hands, now coddle meteors! Will myself cruciferous. And briny dazzled, turn sudden clam! owning, as if born into it, its Morbid juice. I will—I must! toward foreign ecstasy, creep newly born—or eel-like, twist; work heavy human into it, find glass and there somehow, re-silver Youth and touch in mirrored memory the acned boy; slim blush and fumbled sexuality—to be ingenious! To throw off cells, leap leaping from oneself, pop-eyed and singing madrigals!—to be another’s bloodline, flowing Smooth. But pity—all these flame-lit possibilities, seem repugnant now, they bring me, tugging madness, to the sharpest edge I feel Unhinged. This brain has rust corroded lobes, they make me thrash; or glued to stodgy platforms, make me sit; watch fireflies; the deep bending of a continent, the twilit haze—but not, full-flood organic, to partake of them, to simply Sit; grow thin, dry husked, and papery—to lose the wing; the latitude; the infinity of lines. And who denied their liquid fingers, touches light? This sanity is Too sad for me. I’d rather say—come here magnificence! you be gardenia; and I, turning leather—oxford or anklestrap, I’m someone’s Shoe