Boston Dialect

Paul Tait

Description

Designed to capture Paul Tait's thought process\inspiration process as he wrote from poem to poem, "Boston Dialect Volume I" purposely runs the poems end to. With just a space or a flourish\date to separate them, none originally had a title.For the published edition, Paul created titles for each work to allow for a Table of Contents; easing navigation for readers.Also, he has split the book into two volumes as current limitations on how much a living poet ought to publish at once make the entire work unreviewable (too much for even the most post-modern mind to handle). One day they will be combined and presented in the correct manner Tait designed them to be.More than anything else, "Boston Dialect Volume I" illustrates the mind of a creative agent as it travels from expression to expression.

Informations

• Publié par: NCP
• Date de parution: 01 juin 2018
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781912643004
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Table of Containment
Introduction
Ashes Lent
No I Never Get
Cool Yeah Cool
Hot Lead Warm Slug
There’s Always Take Out
A Love Uncompromised
Be
Long Before it’s Made
She Opens the Door
My Make-up is Clean
Sad Ever Dream
I Know as Much as I Do
Am I a Closet Suicide?
Loyalties
I’m Sure There is More
Man On a Wire
We are the Children of Promiscuous Sin
remember
Certain
I’d Rather be Gone
The Warmth of Better Days
Only When There is Nothing
Only to Some
No Surprise
Trust and Heart Security
Any Way I Can
Early Spring 1975
Final
In Ernest
Yes Deeply Known
I Burn No Bridges
Summer Before It Is Time
Capital
The Comfort of Your Poison
Vineyard Vet
Aztec Remnant
Tomorrow By the Lake
Capsule Enclosed Sister
Emerald Isle
Shattered Keel
Place Your Faith
I Suppose There Will Be
Closed Fences and Lines
Granite Mission
Art Net Confines
Folded Wool
My Promise
Civil War
The Handle I Search For
3:33 a.m
Something’s Bound
The Lines Clear as Day
Breadwinning
My Truth of My Time
If There is a Reason
Not the One in Rhode Island
Stranded
Tie Die
Faux 1684
Space Time and Design
Before Grace
If I Said I Was Tired
The River and the Dead
Dress in Red
Morning in the Evening
Sheep Fold
Alarmed Awakened
Enough for a Thousand Days
Small Town Librarian
Postage
Fractured Lens
Impatient Horses
Sun of English Rain
Saigon Paradise
No Time is Time Wasted
Recipient
The Three vs. Distance
Between the Lines of the Day
Angel Tears
From the Smiles of Zealous Men
Patient Moon
Eight O’clock Curtain
In a Morning Dream
if tomorrow
What You Want – What You Fear
Moments of Bliss
I Thought I Knew the Way Back to God
A Momentary Pulse
Liz Beth Bathory
Solvency Ratio
The Trust Hope Faith Exemption
If I Said Out Loud
Peace Child
Drawing Near
Facile Motivation
Guide Me, Bless Me, Lead Me
Just For Tonight
Hour Glass Alley Cat
One Way is The Way
Angel Sunburst Stardust
The Time is Coming
Dead Letters
the instant pudding of our heart’s intent
Leavened Glass
Oceans in Your Eyes
Rooftop Evening
Art House Mouse
With Green Clover
Prudent Patience
Color of Her Mood
I Don’t Want to Know
The Last High School Year
Middle Lane
Well Sown Seed
Wafer ‘n Wine
About the Author
Introduction
Designed to capture Paul Tait’s thought process\inspiration process as he wrote from poem to poem, “Boston Dialect Volume I” purposely runs the poems end to. With just a space or a flourish\date to separate them, none originally had a title.
For the published edition, Paul created titles for each work to allow for a Table of Contents; easing navigation for readers.
Also, he has split the book into two volumes as current limitations on how much a living poet ought to publish at once make the entire work unreviewable (too much for even the most post-modern mind to handle). One day they will be combined and presented in the correct manner Tait designed them to be.
More than anything else, “Boston Dialect Volume I” illustrates the mind of a creative agent as it travels from expression to expression.
Ashes Lent
Been down
On my knees
Planting trees
A rain forest in my
Garden
Ashes in Brazil
Christian world news
Drink the water
Holy and pure
Ashes lent
Been upon
My ladder
Courting sparrows
Flight angel’s grace
On my perches
Deed chambers
Anglo-Saxon values
Filth the ocean
Once pristine
With ashes
Ashes
Been down
Been down
On my knees
Planting rain
No I Never Get
No I never get
What I want
What should I expect?
Nothing new in the
News
Blah blah blah
Pass the Pop
Soda Jerk boy
Oooh
Yeah Oooh
Cool Yeah Cool
I can be scary
She said
Frightening
Yeah
I said
All because of my muse
Oh yes
She said
Yes
Not unlike demonic possession
I am a man occupied
Serialized
In a dozen orgic papers
A thesis on digression
So scary
She said
Cool
Yeah
Cool
Hot Lead Warm Slug
Realm of the sedentary
I could be at this
It become my life
Line-O-Type
Pays the bills
– so would shoveling shit
There’s Always Take Out
There’s always take out
If the stove blows
And your woman can’t make
Fire from sticks
There’s always take out
There’s always sheep
If blood drinks
Itself dry
Would cold tears keep
Eyes clean?
Do you know
What I mean?
Of course not
I’m full of shit
So you say
Well, drink mud water
Say I
And place your dream
Channels on
The snow
Don’t you know??
Blood drinks
Cold mud water
A Love Uncompromised
You know
But not me
So go
I am not concerned
My fires yearn
For a love uncompromised
Deep nights between
Your thighs
Would not fulfill
My needs
Nobility bleeds
Bleeds black
and Full
Be
Don’t trust me
More than you love me
I won’t respond
Don’t love me more
Than you trust me
I don’t belong
To your club of experience
I’m a new actor on
A stage of continuance
Grow and be
Grow and be
– Be
Long Before it’s Made
I’m sick of asking
I’m sick of waiting
The billboards pass
Without a thought
I’m sick of longing for what
I feel I need
Sick of what I haven’t got
Each promise is broken
Long before it’s made
You know, I know, by now
So, you, I know, understand
Why I am sick of begging
Sick of praying
For petty love – a hand
To hold
If you want to – send it
If not, then – forget it
I’m sick
Sick of living, here,
Anyway
She Opens the Door
She opens the door
Relinquishes the key
Oh my God!
The corpse
On the slab is me!
Ha ha ha heeee