‘Histrionic Toys’, ‘Weltschmerz Waltz’, ‘The Persistence of Disobedience’, ‘Californian Confrontation’ & ‘Questioned Toward the End’
Liz Jakimow is a poet and photographer who lives in the beautiful valley of Araluen in Australia, where she is inspired by the mountains and nature that surround her. After someone she loved passed away, Liz set herself the task of taking one photo everyday. At the same time, she was also expressing a lot of her grief through poetry. The photos and poems from this initial three-month grieving period came together in an exhibition and book titled A journey with grief: exploring loss through photography and poetry. Liz’s photography and some of her poetry can be found at www.lizjakimowphotography.com
Histrionic Toys
as things begin again
crude incivilities
understanding so little of it
so what if
I've eyed a life alone
at ten past ten
adrift in an accumulation of the unknown
I've been maddened by the immensity of expected maladies
in another place and time
I've been trapped by the inevitability of the childish beliefs
amid the stillness
in city central
there's no one to tell
passion slips out
and there is no second chance
as anyone can see
dreadful answers
dying inside
because of a lame intrigue
playing with histrionic toys
as you surely know
in stretches of the forced monotony
with earbuds on
Weltschmerz Waltz
Ah, the joy of editorializing about rejected possibilities while dancing! It's truly a match made in heaven, isn't it? Picture this: a room full of passionate dancers, gracefully moving their bodies to the rhythm, all the while discussing the endless what-ifs and could-have-beens of life.
Who needs actual solutions when you can just dance around the problems, right?
As the rejected possibilities pile up, let's not forget to add a touch of editorial flair to the mix. Imagine twirling around the dance floor, passionately expressing your opinions on all the missed opportunities and failed attempts. Who needs to actually take action when you can just talk about it while busting a move? It's the perfect way to let off steam and avoid any actual progress.
And let's not forget the beauty of dancing while editorializing about rejected possibilities. It's like a synchronized symphony of complaints and critiques, all performed with the grace and elegance of a seasoned dancer. Who needs to focus on the positive when you can just dwell on the negative? So, let's put on our dancing shoes and get ready to waltz through a sea of missed chances and unfulfilled dreams. After all, what better way to spend our time than lamenting over what could have been, all while showcasing our impeccable dance moves?
The Persistence of Disobedience
do you get it now
it's beyond control
the errors in life
the pathetic tricks of the escapist's son
in the dark
bedeviled by a fateful reality
as a boat floats by on the Lethe
it's beyond everyone
these contrived accusations
evident in a little dissonance
without warning
these are the days of
breaking apart
the days of uninterrupted drama
one flight up
at the end of a long conversation
the frustration never stops
dreaming up a few lines
over and over
a circumstance of the game
at minimum wage
this child petting rabbits
involved in an intolerable pain
Californian Confrontation
insanity as darkness comes
waits with a drink in hand
angrier than the unearthly wickedness of a hellish subject
discord acknowledges the madness
it all adds up
just as predicted
an impossible hurt
a cold separation
in the noise
faded recollections
trying to untangle a spirit's hellish chaos
will everything be all right you ask
and I say
this is no time to struggle
with someone losing it
we will keep it going
we're confined to a destructive desperation
wondering about the horror
I'm being watched
heavy with this twist of fate
the diversions of the cat
risking the darkened endgame
as I walk in the La Puente twilight
I'm going beyond this diabolical frustration
implicated in purple nonsense
risking violet provocations
Questioned Toward the End
in Los Angeles tonight
it's the stuff within
entangled in this or that
the departing has been here all along
watching from behind a curtain
reflected in all the doubt
I'm sentenced to making matters worse
asking for time
in the dark
I'm making do with a wicked agony
did you learn nothing from an aesthete
I'm looking with different eyes
what does doting matter
it all ends
why did it turn out this way
of course
I'm caught off guard by forever
forever and ever
reality has nothing better to do
besides everything else
somewhere
David M. Alper's forthcoming poetry collection is Hush. His work appears in Variant Literature, Red Ogre Review, Oxford Magazine, and elsewhere. He is an educator in New York City.
