‘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.