WRONG TWIN’S LULLABY

Never sinking on Sudden Denouement.

Sudden Denouement Collective

by Basilike Pappa

It said sleep / the voice said / slide into / me / like a fish / in water the voice said / dreamless / I’ll catch you / just sleep it said / you’re tired and / it’s time to / sleep.

Like this / it said / the voice said / close your eyes / slide / let go / see? it said / like this / come to me / easy / you’re tired / just sleep.

That time / it said / remember? / that time in the sea / the water closed over / so close to the shore / but that current / that sneaky tricky current / it said let go / the voice said / like fish / you’re tired / sleep / easy like this / don’t blink.

And you thought / why not / easy / the…

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Lines in the Sand (part 3): Jimmi Campkin & Basilike Pappa

Saltburn VI

 

You are my glorious disease and I have been fighting the cure ever since. I long for emptiness these days. No more cigarettes, no more drink, no more love. Just morose boredom and a meaningless fuck in dust. But still I think about wide hips and burgundy lips, thigh high stockings and your foot gently pressing on my groin like the gas pedal in a car. I remember your breath before you came in for the kill, and I remember the light dancing off the contours of your arched back. I remember wet, horrible sin.

I’ve tried to find alternatives but I only end up staring at the backwards writing on the base of the bottle. I go to a different store every day so the vendors don’t pity me. You drift into my mind like smoke under a door, and I never know whether to open it and try to escape or to stay and hope I pass out before I burn.

I walk into the bathroom and wash my face in the filthy sink, trying not to look at my own reflection and the betrayal of my dilated pupils. I tell myself I am done, that we are two cogs turning the opposite way, destroying each other.

But then I think,

one more time…

One more taste of red salt…

*

The poets of sweetness that made us cringe tell of a place where lovers live ever after in castles made of perfumed mists, saying to each other things like ‘forever’, ‘I swear’ and ‘always more’. We are too smart to swallow this, and yet here we are, all stars, fires and poetic license.

I claim to wish for your silence but, when I see you aren’t done, my heart races over the seas. You pull me back, tear me apart between lust and fear, doubt and trust, fire and ash. Controlling my sequences of movement, ordering contraction and release with the tapping of your fingertips, you make me lie in bed aching, holding on to the memory of you pinning me down with your body, with your brutal mouth, sinking so deeply inside me not even smoke can drift between us. It’s still you who drives me into the dance; memory becomes flesh as I squeeze my thighs together and think of flowing into you in gasping motions – wet, exalted.

The kill is on both of us. Pierced by the same blade we fall.

Here’s the truth: I can’t go on. I’ll bring you my tongue on a platter, my song out of tune, my sanity, my senses, all my silver jewels. I’ll even do the stupid stuff, like say ‘forever’, ‘I swear’ and ‘always more’. I’ll pass you the salt. And if we become material for the poets of shit, we’ll blame it on the weather or a collapsing bridge.

The words you wanted to hear were always there when I said bite / fuck / hard / eat / suck me, kávla – at the last one you’d say ‘what?’ and I’d say ‘guess.’ Always there when I was carnal.

Let’s take it from the start.

Say again: ‘Tell me something you’ve told no one else.’

This time I’ll say yes.

***

© Basilike Pappa & Jimmi Campkin, 2018

Photography by Jimmi Campkin

Jimmi Campkin is a “Writer, photographer, creator of SANCTUARY. 16bit child, INFP with clinical nostalgia and red wine for blood.” You can enjoy more of his work at jimmi campkin.com.

You can read Part 1 here and Part 2 here

Burn

Moran

 

 

Dreams are rhapsodies of children unborn

and ships burned anchored

because the gods are whores

as usual

 

*

 

© Basilike Pappa, 2018

 

 

Image: Burning of the Frigate Philadelphia in the Harbor of Tripoli, February 16, 1804, Edward Moran (1829-1901)

In a Night so Still I Go La La La La La

Incantation by Anne W. Brigman (American, 1869–1950) Date: 1905

 

 

In a night so still I summon you

hear me calling out your name, goddess

I want you here

will you lead me to your sea of love

or leave me lying here

on the burning sands

 

In a night so still I summon you

I’ll speak a little louder, goddess

I want you here

will you take me where the kingdom comes

or leave me lying here

where souls disappear

 

In a night so still I summon you

I’ll even shout, goddess

I want you here
will you make this
life livable

or leave me lying here

where I’m losing the reasons to breathe

 

In a night so still I summon you

C’mon, goddess

I want you here

will you take me home to glory’s throne

or leave me lying here

red eyes and tears

 

In a night so still I summon you

I won’t say it again, goddess

I want you here

will you lead me to your armchair

or leave me lying here

your onion peeling slave

 

In a night so still I summon you

cut the crap, goddess

the government is looking for a saw

to cut a thousand loaves of bread in half

and all I want is a haircut

will you give it to me?

 

In a night so still I summon you

I don’t know what to say, goddess

they said I was your favorite prize
your favorite smile
your favorite mirror

not your favorite game

 

In a night so still I summon you

why did you play me this way, goddess

you held me down

and it’s always this way

now I know better

So put your hands where I can see them

 

In a night so still I summon you

to tell you that we are through, goddess

I’d rather spend the night alone in my room

than spend the night alone summoning you

do you hear me?

 

So much for the night so still

so much for the whistling in the wind, goddess

Is it in my genes – I don’t know

but I guess what you think is true

I could never be the right kind of dog for you

and I go la la la la la

***

In a Night so Still I Go La La La La La is a found poem made of:

Three poems

Preveza, by Kostas Karyotakis, translated by Peter J. King and Andreas Christofidou

In the Goddess’s Name I Summon You…, by George Seferis, translated by Edmund Keeley

The Monogram, by Odysseus Elytis, translated by Youlika K. Masry (© February 14, 2018)

One Wikipedia article

Greek government-debt crisis

And 14 songs – some better than others and a crappy one

Hands Up – I Love You – Madrugada

Red Eyes and Tears – Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

As Sure as the Sun – Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

I Wanna Be Your Dog – The Stooges

Not Right – The Stooges

In Your Room – Depeche Mode

Strangelove – Depeche Mode

I Feel You – Depeche Mode

Blue – Vermillion Lies

To Binge – Gorillaz

I Can Never Be Your Woman – White Town

Big Love – Fleetwood Mac

Everywhere – Fleetwood Mac

She’s Got the Look – Roxette

***

© Basilike Pappa, 2018

(Image: Incantation, by Anne W. Brigman, 1905 – Pinterest)

Strike a Match-Basilike Pappa

Lighting a fire on Sudden Denouement.

Sudden Denouement Collective

the-world4.jpg

Some are atheist to thorns / star-crossed / easy pure hope / hurl quotes at you / colorful futures / white-bearded universe / prophets without a clue / no fishnet can hold the sea

Gods / distant spies / needle makers / cracked open jaws / highway wolves / gaping / smoke up curses / under a ripe moon / the world is potbellied

Impressive projects / dead lines / scrape the sky red / thundering ornaments / refrigerator romance / our darling forests turned into floors / not our feet over flowers

Waves of chlorine / bleached urban legends / army civilization / vengeful magazines / isolated mouth / words lost in time difference / return from the dead like a bad smell

Suits drive bright machines / exquisite oysters / indulged / emptied / lean legs / pants glittering / for want of soul or sex / this…

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My Life in Black & White: Day 7

My friend Susan Richardson, who writes the amazing blog Stories from the Edge of Blindness was tagged a few days ago to participate in the black and white photo challenge by Grace, the creator of MS Graceful…NOT. She posted some beautiful photos and she said she’d love to see mine.

You know there are always rules to everything in life! The rules for this are straightforward. Seven days. Seven black and white photos of your life. No people. No explanation. Challenge someone new each day  (Participate if you feel compelled to do so).

 

IMG_20180721_223734_HHT

My Life in Black & White: Day 6

My friend Susan Richardson, who writes the amazing blog Stories from the Edge of Blindness was tagged a few days ago to participate in the black and white photo challenge by Grace, the creator of MS Graceful…NOT. She posted some beautiful photos and she said she’d love to see mine.

You know there are always rules to everything in life! The rules for this are straightforward. Seven days. Seven black and white photos of your life. No people. No explanation. Challenge someone new each day  (Participate if you feel compelled to do so).

 

River