Category Archives: Poetry

“The Title is Buried Inside, Or What!” – Poetry by Ahimaaz Rajesh

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The Egg - Tarsila do Amaral, 1928
The Egg – Tarsila do Amaral, 1928

The first of our readers who can correctly answer all the questions in “The Title is Buried Inside, Or What!”, Ahimaaz Rajesh‘s spectacularly surreal poem from our Spring 2016 issue, will win a 1-year subscription to FLAPPERHOUSE!

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NO. Who said “Take what’s in your head and leave it under my bed” and to whom?
“Like a broken record spin rascals SPIN!” – Whose galactic admonition is this?
Should I make a list of things to do in my next birth? True. Is revenge a fish?
Why does the incision scar under my wrist look like a stepped-on centipede?
How many days in a? How would you unravel an accident? a. Who are we?
What’s the circumference of a vicious circle? Who discovered time junk?
“First came the white, then came the shell.” – Is that a proper sentence?
Why skip sex education classes? Does all authority come from doves?
Would we feel less alone if we could cast our shadows for a bit more?
Who’s the recurring nemesis in Jesus Christ Superhero? Yes and No.
Can writers cackle? Can’t a proper capitalist be a reasonable person?
What’s the work routine of a turtle? Why isn’t titanium weightless?
Is there an Uniprose? Who first said “Let there be cheese”? N.
Is Dao Pal a pedo-masochist? Have you read Velli Kizhavi?
Is graphic novel alive? What’s the temperature of thought?
Is First Draft of a Lost Questionnaire real? Why will?
Would AIs invoke a pseudo-glorious past?
What’s wrong about good habits?
Who builds the nasal bridge?
Were we ever?
Where did?
What’s a spuake?
1. Is science fiction? c.
Who determines it’s enough?
Must governments run business?
How steep is success? Oh? Why be God?
How would you dismantle a dermonuclei weapon?
Really? Should we split science from physics? False.
How many months in a year would you like to be jobless?
Is there some place in your uniprose to stack my universe?
What intensity of quake’s required to collapse a card house?
What kind of fall is? When’s Karikalan the person a character?
Does a cat eat its? Why can’t peachicks survive amid chickens?
Would you trust an ice cream on a very hot day? What’s with the?
Does it cost much to step out in moon? Would you sell your sleep?
How long and how often should we bury our fingers in our armpits?
Is there any difference between one heaven and many other heavens?
How in the? Can your neighbors talk to you for free? How thin is fear?
What’s the average size of a super ego? Feminism can shave the world?
Where are your lies? When should writers speak? Who bottles fresh air?
Who says “what a fuck” and when? What’s ego-shaped? Right and wrong.
Must a wife know how to weave a trail? 3. How will you climb up to grace?
The mermaid/merman post-coitus, would you prefer my calling that state merlaid?
When over time masters in a field have waned will there then be postmasters?
Where’s my bitterness? Why does a newborn—lying face up—kick box?
Have you once hated eating because that’s what makes you defecate?
Should rivals in action-fiction be allowed to reconcile more often?
Why we shouldn’t ban tissues? Are husbands above hairclips?
Why are undue puns no fun? How to make an Acid Eastern?
When was the last time I watched a movie on television?
Who makes? Are governments above people?
When shall I stop being at many places?
What if bones are made of?
Do you make your?
Hells! No.
How’s sky?
Where are the?
Do house sparrows exit?
Who deals with Blood Gasoline?
Is it true CCTVs are often truant?
Would a hawk grasp a microsoft mouse?
What are some of the languages of birds?
When will our Gods learn to be responsible?
What the. How many lines does it take to draw history?
Can a man? What’s the distance from one instance to next?
Seriously? Do you like the way the apple products taste? (5)
Why are we dumb? Who can get us tickets to an underwater cave?
Why’s literature? Pass. Is there a country without geography? Why the?
Must a man wear burqa? What were? How come a monogamist a marvel?
Wrong. Did you save the dye? How do you say make yourself at home in Sinhala?
Will everything be? Is multiple organism a myth? Who others the another?
What’s the intention of the statement “May the bores be with you”?
Are we inside a globe-shaped egg that’s waiting to hatch?
How many bogies make a train of action? What time is?
What’s popular cult? What’s goodness got to do with?
How come there are many answers to one question?
Will I? What are the benefits of being shallow?
What’s so special about cracked walls?
How to type out an inner travelogue?
When’s verbal fellation an offence?
Who walks between the wicked?
Can a mirror be the witness?
Is anger thicker than water?
(1) Who runs?
Will a?
Y.

{ X } Continue reading “The Title is Buried Inside, Or What!” – Poetry by Ahimaaz Rajesh →

“Bodies,” “Another Failed Poem about Unrequited Love,” and “Synesthesia” – Poetry by Lauren Milici

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Sensuality - Franz Stuck, 1891
Sensuality – Franz Stuck, 1891

“Bodies,” “Another Failed Poem about Unrequited Love,” and “Synesthesia” are three  darkly sensual poems by Lauren Milici featured in our Spring 2016 issue.

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“Bodies”

STILL. TOGETHER WE
smell of burning; lit votive

                             candles. Hit me, he said
                             so I did. Save me, so

I did. Right through new sheets, bled
and fucked like glass breaking. Once

                             tasted; skin, like unfinished portraits.

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“Another  Failed  Poem  about Unrequited  Love”

WHEN YOU DREAM
of me your wife

is dead. I wear nothing
but thigh highs and hot

desperation. I wait
at the foot of your bed,

in the dark.

{ X } Continue reading “Bodies,” “Another Failed Poem about Unrequited Love,” and “Synesthesia” – Poetry by Lauren Milici →

“The Weight Between Want and Desire” – Poetry by Christina M. Rau

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The Desire - Remedios Varo, 1935
The Desire – Remedios Varo, 1935

“The Weight Between Want and Desire” is one of two stirring and beguiling poems by Christina M. Rau in our Spring 2016 issue.

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SILENCE MOVING FAST,
it plummets off cliffs in gusts.
A search for nothing
takes forever,

slated out, left for loss
in other people’s warrens:
a broken magnet, unsure compass
poking through a canvas sack.

A coffin, a casket,
a green and purple basket:
full, heavy, reeking of apples
stored up for the last half of tomorrow.

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Continue reading “The Weight Between Want and Desire” – Poetry by Christina M. Rau →

“Muse, Elucidated” – Poetry by Innas Tsuroiya

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Hesiod and the Muse - Gustave Moreau, 1893
Hesiod and the Muse – Gustave Moreau, 1891

The enchanting “Muse, Elucidated” is one of two enigmatically beautiful poems by Innas Tsuroiya in our Spring 2016 issue.

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IN THE END, WHEN YOU CAPTIVATE

the       h          o          l           l           o          w          tunnel

channeling through my dilated pupil

with me capturing back to you, already enchanted

spell-bound and damaged in a cryptic melancholia

being unable to dissuade such moment from aerifying

into free air and summer atmosphere;

may your papers be sated with raw alphabets

streaming until the end of page

not stopping until you ambit the very last breath

or the thrill of having backache

 

do you not have to sway back and forth again

to incarnate those dead words into divine subtlety

for I am here casting shadow over your body

between dimmed candles and city lights

between promises and frights, between us

l           o          o          s          e          n          i           n          g

each other’s grip for once in a while

{ X } Continue reading “Muse, Elucidated” – Poetry by Innas Tsuroiya →

“Cape Valentine” – Poetry by Catfish McDaris

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Omnia Vincit Amor, or The Power of Love in the Three Elements - Benjamin West, 1809
Omnia Vincit Amor, or The Power of Love in the Three Elements – Benjamin West, 1809

We’re not sure we’ve ever seen “love” defined as wonderfully as it is in “Cape Valentine,” one of 5 fantastically madcap poems by Catfish McDaris featured in our Spring 2016 issue. (And should you want to read even more of Catfish’s work, you could check out his new collection “Sleeping with the Fish,” now available from Pski’s Porch Publishing.)

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LOVE IS A RUNAWAY TRAIN
An elephant stampede
The Grand Canyon at sunrise
Van Gogh’s bedroom
Good days bad sad dogs cats babies death
Beautiful intelligent enchanting intriguing
A memory of a memory
Back to back against the wall and the wolf
and the tax man and the ripper and the vultures
Mona Lisa’s whisper and laughter
A hurricane of dreams on the precipice of life.

{ X } Continue reading “Cape Valentine” – Poetry by Catfish McDaris →

“weather” – Poetry by William Lessard

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A Woman Ghost Appeared from a Well - Katsushika Hokusai, circa 1800
A Woman Ghost Appeared from a Well – Katsushika Hokusai, circa 1800

The supremely spooky & surreal “weather” is one of 3 marvelous poems by William Lessard in our Spring 2016 issue.

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THE NIGHT THAT BECAME
night. We open the door

in the middle of our bed.
The door is candy corn tear.

The door is blue giant
ear. You go first. I follow.

The map says call ghosts.
You call with the side

of your hand. No ghosts.
You call. Not a ripple

in the curtain dark. I say
call with a different voice.

You cup your hand, call
as the girl that stands

behind your eyes. The girl
is ripped dress tacked

to a post. The girl is
blood wiped from the tip

of his favorite tie. I know
this girl. She thinks she’s

hiding, but I catch her.
I’ve seen her often peering

out, sometimes with eyes bolted
to the jewels of foreign fingers.

Her voice is your lace curtain
voice, speaking in gasoline flame.

All the ghosts know her. All the ghosts
know you. They appear as smoke

blown beneath a door. This is how
the night begins. Your voice, this tree.

{ X } Continue reading “weather” – Poetry by William Lessard →

FLAPPERHOUSE Podcast #2 – Reading #6

Fiction, Flappertising, Flappricana, Lyric Essay, Podcast, Poetry, , , , , , , ,

In case you missed our 6th reading— or if you didn’t miss it but would like to relive the experience in podcast form– you may now stream or download it through the Soundcloud file below!

“How to be a Small Press Success” – Poetry by Catfish McDaris

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Girl in Bathtub - Saul Steinberg, 1949
Girl in Bathtub – Saul Steinberg, 1949

FLAPPERHOUSE #9 is our sexiest & most invincible issue yet. If you’d like a taste, please enjoy Catfish McDaris‘ informative & inspirational poem “How to be a Small Press Success,” which is but one of five fantastically madcap poems Catfish contributed to our Spring 2016 issue. Should you care to read the rest of those poems– as well as impeccably flappy poetry & prose by 15 other all-star writers– you could order a digital PDF copy for $3US and see it alight in your emailbox as soon as humanly possible (usually just a couple minutes, though it could take up to a few hours. We apologize for any inconvenience or delayed gratification.) Or if you prefer to read us in soft, pulpy paperback, print copies are available for $6US .

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TAKE A NEWSPAPER CUT IT ALL UP and pour
in the letters from a Scrabble game
mix two ounces of Mrs. Butterworth
syrup with water in a spray bottle

Get your woman naked in the bathtub,
squirt her until she’s sticky all over, then
throw in all the letters and an ant farm,
write your poems before making love

Get a Bowie knife shove it into the earth,
put your ear on the handle, listen closely,
all the magazine names in the world will
be whispered to you at the same time

Write as if your sexual organs are in flames,
until your fingers cramp, until your eyes
bleed, until you use the bathroom in your
pants, set fire to all your words, throw them
out the window, now you’re ready, proceed.

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Catfish In Milwaukee Doing a Pee Wee/Urkel Poetry Monologue
Catfish In Milwaukee Doing a Pee Wee/Urkel Poetry Monologue

CATFISH McDARIS’ work has recently been translated into French, Polish, Swedish, Arabic, Mandarin, Bengali, Spanish, Yoruba, Tagalog, and Esperanto. His 25 years of published material is in the Special Archives Collection at Marquette Univ. in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. He’s listed in Wikipedia. His ancestors are from the Aniwaya Clan of the Cherokee Nation. He won the Thelonius Monk Award in 2015.

 

“The Witch’s Cat Gets Grounded” – Poetry by E.H. Brogan

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Black Cat (Kuroki Neko) - Hishida Shunso, 1910
Black Cat (Kuroki Neko) – Hishida Shunso, 1910

“The Witch’s Cat Gets Grounded” is just one of four magically mischievous poems that E.H. Brogan contributed to our Winter 2016 issue. (And to hear a recording of E.H. reading her poem, check out the Soundcloud file embedded below the text.)

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“THE WITCH’S CAT GETS GROUNDED”

Or at least soon he will be. For now still stuck up
in that tree, actually, and meowing up a storm.
He isn’t happy, and sure would like to know she knows.
She ain’t happy neither, he’s an indoor cat all twenty-four and
seven usual hours but one great date & there’s
the witch already forgetting to grab her pails brim-full with responsibilities,
today she clanked an empty pot down on the stove, gas
cranked, forgot it and walked off. Then the smell of burning.
Trying to bring the house down, witch, were we?
Letting the damn curious cat out and then leaving?
Him outside alone, what was she thinking – was
she thinking? He’s such an oldest child, she thinks when she can
do it through her panic using humor, hope this gets him
enough attention, up two stories in a no-limb cannot-
shimmy-up-it tree and crying to her constantly
while she, below, gets busy doing all the little
things that she can dream to do, none of which are helping.
In order she keeps sitting, smoking, offering up treats, talking
like he kens human. Crying. Calling every possible department.
Writing poems. Then, repeating.

{ X } Continue reading “The Witch’s Cat Gets Grounded” – Poetry by E.H. Brogan →

“Post-It Notes Left by Failed Actors” – Poetry by Ian Kappos

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New York Movie - Edward Hopper, 1939
New York Movie – Edward Hopper, 1939

The dada-esque collage of “Post-It Notes Left by Failed Actors” is one of three wonderfully weird poems by Ian Kappos in our Winter 2016 issue.

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MOVIE—FOUND IN THE “LIES” SECTION, w/ all the pickled would-have-beens. “PG”; sugary, oratory. All the kings dead; the documentaries digress, amnesiac. Foreground: Lao Tsung clip-notes, predating his resumé (drafted by his progenitors). This coming after the “talkies” & before the color, & w/ the low keening death of the word, drowning in the shower, we all choke down the synonyms & stem cells.

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His words are pharaoh: anything of worth uttered to anyone will live on in pages pickled in ink, maybe moths. Tombs rise & births conspire belowground. Three pages for every worm. A novella of creepy crawlies yearning for a translator that dies at first breath.

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Curled nose at the dawn: she wants the kind of weather that’ll inspire her to stay inside & watch Rosemary’s Baby, so she can soak up the hellfire without baring her skeleton to the sun, to the sons. To the daughters of the sky. The infidelity of the screen scorches her, reassuringly.

—Is this American Romanticism? she thinks. —Or does the fair-haired angel-child lie beneath my boxspring? is he giggling, egging me on to wait it all out in the trenches? until I contract tuberculosis? until my friends scramble out of their hoods to time-share my static gaze? until I am a poet?

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He is made of mesh: awake, he quakes into being some new moths. The janitor. He doesn’t dreams of brooms; he dreams of railyards, just past noon, & the cargo which he wakes up knowing is you & me. That is when he wakes up & takes up his chant, beating the moths from the cats’ mouths.

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An inconvenient crew: They will be your ushers at the movie theater, & you won’t feel sorry for them that their legs are distorted & stunted. You won’t because their eyes are projectors & you are entranced. They will handicap you. The credits roll.

{ X } Continue reading “Post-It Notes Left by Failed Actors” – Poetry by Ian Kappos →