One touch
One taste
One kiss
One caress
One song
One dance
One laugh
One cry
One lust
One love
One hope
One faith
One truth
One peace
One flesh
One soul

One sip from your holy chalice
pours sweetly
into my hungry lips

One thrust of my fevered passion
comes hot
with the bliss of chaos

One moment
at the edge of entropy
takes us closer to the pulse of heaven

One knock
upon the pearly gates
illuminates the angelic halo

One God
One source
One womb
One grave
One night
One bed
One sex
One lay
One sun
One rise
One salve
One heal
One throne
One crown
One gasp
One thrill

---

Publication Updates:

My poem “Poisoned Dairy” came out yesterday at Mad Swirl. Thank you to editors Johnny R. Olson and Michael Clay for having me back at their venue. This is the fourth time I’ve had a piece published there. My archive can be seen here.

Thank you to Dai Shotter at Your One Phone Call for publishing my poem “In a Nutshell” today. This online zine’s motto is: Poetry with a knife edge! I often find myself checking out their daily feature, as the work is usually topnotch. I have another poem scheduled to come out here at the beginning of September.

Thank you to Matt Duggan and Simon Leake at The Angry Manifesto for accepting a poem of mine to appear in the upcoming print edition of issue 3.0.

Thank you to Tiffany Slotwinski of Viral Cat for accepting my poem “Here and There” to appear in the upcoming September issue.

Anyone who is still wrapped up in the two-party political paradigm of Team Red vs. Team Blue should read “The Great Purge” – My weekly poem that came out a couple of days ago at Dissident Voice. There is also a recorded reading of the piece that can be found at the link above.

---

Thank you to everyone who has been reading my words here at 17Numa of late. I’d encourage you to connect with me on Twitter and Facebook. Also, any follows, likes, comments, and shares here on the blog are greatly appreciated.

Selah,

Scott Thomas Outlar

Prelude to a revolution
during this dark age interlude
since the last revelation
swept renaissance
through the hearts and minds
of a species
that was fed up
filled to the gills
flayed on the cross of ignorance
fried in a pan of splintered oil
by devious false idols
misbehaving
by masquerading
as royal gods
that were really
rotten
to the core
full of cancer
black maggot virus
a worm in the system
a lie in the core of the apple

So sick and tired
of fucking around with the shadows
in the fallen garden
of ivory and gold
Ready to ignite
a new dawn
as neurons dance
enflamed with the theory
of evolution’s enlightenment

A cosmic epiphany
sung from the celestial spheres
The holy orchestra
smashing sounds like atoms
spreading the rhythm
of synchronistic alignment
sending out symphonic notes as dust
to drift through
the pulsing plasma
of empty space
and be molded as clay
into higher forms of melodic ascension

We are all made of stars
with a glimmer and shine
that cannot be snuffed out
A tangerine shimmer
of liquid sunshine
Solar rays of source electricity
coursing as tidal waves
through a river of blood
enchanted by the very breath of life

A whisper, A word, A vibration, An ignition, An explosion

---

Recorded version can be listened to via this link on audioBoom

A #SpokenWord poem prompt response for:

#WhisperingNeds 13
#FIERYVERSE
#SpokenPoetry
#MadVerse 418
#VerseReversal 223

---

My poem “The Great Purge” came out yesterday at Dissident Voice. Many thanks, as always, to editor Angie Tibbs for continuing to include my work at the site.

– An excerpt from the piece –

Broccoli and cheese soup:

What was it Gandhi said?
“To change the world
one should enter into a booth
and cast a vote upon an electronic Diebold machine
that is controlled by the very fascist interests
who already have their puppets in place
throughout every corridor of public influence,
and who have already chosen behind closed doors
the candidates whose names are represented
on said rigged device.”

Breadsticks and butter:

No, wait, what that dude actually said
was much more simple.
“Be the change you want to see in the world.”

– The poem can be found at the link above, and while at the site I’d recommend checking out a fine poem by James Hoover that caught my eye earlier.

---

Yesterday was by far the best day of traffic this blog has seen since I began it six months ago. There were more views on the Links Page alone than there had been on all the pages combined on any other previous day. I’m very happy that readers and writers are using the page as a resource to check out the journals, magazines, blogs, and zines that are listed there. All the editors at the listed publications have been very kind toward my words this past year, and the page is my small way of saying thank you.

I also want to thank everyone who has been reading my work on the blog lately. I’d like to continue encouraging anyone who is so inclined to leave comments, critiques, compliments, curses of my name unto the abyss, or suggestions of any kind. I’m still in the season of planting seeds here at 17Numa, so feedback with possible improvements on how to better sow the fields is greatly appreciated.

OK, it’s now 2:17 A.M. – a truly mystical time, for reasons I’ll perhaps go into at some later date…the point now is…goodnight.

Selah,

Scott Thomas Outlar

Tattered puppets
with twisted halos
fall hard
from lofty spaces
when the liar’s game
unravels
and dirty derivatives
spill out
to scatter upon
the floor of Wall Street

empty pockets
worthless paper

Light it up
in a fiat frenzy
as the rigged algorithms
of Ponzi scheme paradise
smog the sky with smoke

chasing the little birds
from their trees
as they seek fresher pastures

Those that once were green
now are all red
in a smoldering pile
of embers and ash

---

#SpokenWord poem prompt response for:

#MadVerse 417
#DrugVerse 63
#SpeakPoetry

Listen to a recorded reading here on audioBoom

---

Many thanks to Ian Chung at Eunoia Review for publishing my poem “Taking Measure” today. This piece originally appeared earlier in the year as part of the #finalpoem series at Enclave.

Thank you also to Robert Olson at Calliope Magazine for accepting my poem “Animal” for the upcoming one year anniversary October issue. Calliope was recently nominated for Magazine of the Year by the National Poetry Awards. Anyone that would like to cast a vote can do so by following this link to the simple form.

Lastly, thank you to Three Line Thursday for an honorable mention in the week thirty-nine micro poetry prompt contest. The rest of the results can be seen here.

Selah,

Scott Thomas Outlar

Four right turns
have left us
in a circle
somehow

spinning wheels
against the tar
melted puddle
under the bleached sky

stripped of color –
black

and of direction –
lost

in the same place
where it all began
at birth

took a round trip
back to nowhere…

but Christ
the things we saw!
in our slow motion orbit around the sun
as it delivered
a sacrament of color and shape
with handfuls of crystal visions
serving as a ceremonial burn
in the flash point
of our pineals
sending every neuron signal
to high alert
screaming sirens
sing the warning signs
of enlightenment
crashing hard
through consciousness
flipping switches
hit ignition

and for a moment
we entered unto heaven
in the center of your kingdom
forgetting the soured wine
spoiled in the garden
forgetting the crushed sweetness
of the fallen chalice
forgetting we were flawed angels
but rather
for a brief moment
something far greater
cast of perfect gold
while reflected
in ascended light
so holy
in the spirit
of your
perfect sight
quieting all rage
of the heart
finally found
in the bliss
of infinite splendor

but of course
all such trips
are temporary
and we would be
in denial
to pretend
that our sublime shamanic vacation
would never end
for the karmic cycles
forever spin
shifting with the currents
of the flesh

We had our
glimpse
of God
but all good things
must eventually
come to a close

and there is still
so much more work
to be done here on earth

A little taste
of nirvana
as a tease
from on high
was just enough
to tempt us
toward the final truth
that the only way
we’ll ever stay
permanently
as One
in the Source
is if we first
bring about
the cessation
of All suffering
here in the duality
of this ride called life –

---

A Twitter-Verse Poem Prompt Response for:

#MadVerse 416
#WyldeVerse 40
#ashverse
#RavensVeil
#HomoAquarius

Little poisonous needles pierce flesh from the sky,
falling like diamond fangs of oblivion,
tearing into open wounds with venomous kisses,
spitting out the toxic waste in vomited waves.

Her love is a dark fire of death,
using lust as a wicked intoxication
to lure in tragic victims
before burying them beneath the cancer in her heart.

Salvation is a dirty word whispered from her lips,
blistering forth from a tongue of chaos
to coat the spirit of weary travelers
who have been sadly fooled by the siren’s song.

A devil in a temptress gown –
dancing atop the graves of her victims,
howling at the moon come midnight,
laughing madly as the maggots begin to roar.

Scalpel teeth enter the neck with pinpoint precision,
tearing deeply into broken veins,
sucking out the river of life,
polluting the well with eternal blackness.

A riptide fury with which she works
to weave her tangled web of lies,
calling out the next fat meal
to toy with in her clutches before biting.

The latest feast to fill her gorged guts –
acid burning to the core of dehydrated bones,
melting the marrow into a soup
before being slurped down her abysmal soul.

---

Sometimes I write love songs devoted to God and the magical wonderment of Creation. Sometimes I write dark, cancerous lullabies inspired by black widows. In the end, it’s all just fun and games. Mostly. There is, of course, always a larger agenda lingering…building up behind the curtains…waiting for the perfect moment to begin the show…

---

Two poems came out yesterday at Dead Snakes:

“Bread and Circus” and “A Sky of Thorns”

If you dig what you read here at the blog, feel free to drop me a line and let me know what you think; also, I’d love to connect with everyone on Facebook and Twitter.

Selah,

Scott Thomas Outlar

You would think
that after passing the same person
while walking at the park
every single day for weeks on end,
nodding a polite hello to them each time
as a silent gesture of goodwill,
that sooner or later,
instead of staring right through you
with black orbs of death,
they might eventually nod back,
acknowledging the basic humanity
that the two of you share,
and proving once and for all,
beyond a shadow of a doubt,
that they are not some cold-blooded reptilian alien
from a far distant planet
sent to earth just to act like a smug jerk.
But, you know, whatever…
c’est la vie and all that jazz.

A recorded version of this poem can be found here 

---

This poem is pretty self explanatory, me thinks. I know that some people have anxiety issues. I know that some people aren’t comfortable around other human beings. I know that some people like to get in the zone and live in their own little world. I know that eye contact scares the shit out of some people. But, you know, grow up…a nod is not going to kill ya. Jackass.

---

I had a nice little surprise early this morning in the from of an email that popped into my inbox from the journal Nazar Look which is based out of Constanta, Romania.

Apparently, I had sent a three poem submission to this venue back in February. I never received an acceptance or rejection letter, and honestly don’t even recall having sent the poems. So, it was interesting to receive a letter today containing a link to the newly released issue 44 of the journal in which my work has been included. The three poems can be found at this link, appearing on pages 64-65.

“Truth” originally appeared at Record-webzine last year, and later at Wilderness House Literary Review.

“The Way It Is” was just recently featured at Your One Phone Call, a venue out of Wales, where I have a couple more poems (“In a Nutshell” and “Insomnia”) that will be appearing in the next couple of weeks.

“Elusive” was first published at Dissident Voice, and also later appeared at Wilderness House Literary Review.

---

If you enjoy what you read here then I’d like to encourage you to follow this blog, leave comments, share the posts, and check out more content on the other pages. There are links to all my published poetry, essays, and fiction, as well as links to well over 100 literary venues.

Also, feel free to connect with me by following these links to Facebook and Twitter.

Selah,

Scott Thomas Outlar

There are golden metaphors
not yet written
never before used
hanging
hovering
waiting with eternal patience
in the realm of dreams
to be grasped
and woven
into an intricately
designed web
of perfect
pinpoint precision
that raises
razor sharp
illumination
to the tippy-top
of consciousness
where solid shocks
of electric enlightenment
snap, crackle, pop
to the surface layer
of God’s Sun
helping revelation
and epiphany
burn hot
to light up the sky

with bombs bursting in air
all that jazz, all that flair
…
but that is not
at all
what you’ll find here

For that type of imagery
of the golden dawn variety
has a rather elusive quality
hard to grasp
hard to handle
hard to hold at all
lest it shatter under extreme pressure

a broken chalice
spilling wine and smelted silver

a dormant rust
bleeding acid from the core

a last ritual
under the weeping moon
as the primal desires
of a bound fury
smash through the chains
to unleash chaos
with mounting tides
of spitfire waves
ready to bring hell
at any moment

that is to say…

a horse, of course,
of another sort

a bird with black tar feathers
of an entirely different kind

This is not a poem
(this is a poem)
about flowery yellow language
and lofty, bouncy, big ideas

This is a poem
(this is not a poem)
about the would-be Wunderkind
kissed on the cheek
stabbed in the back
shot through the heart
slain on the cross
resurrected on the third day
only to be
buried alive on the fourth

Crestfallen in the casket –
not much air down there to breathe

Cries of,
“Why hast thou forsaken me?”
get muffled
in the firmament of clay
that once
had served
as cradle
but now
became
the grave

But do not shed,
Crow Jane, nary a single tear –
for you and I both know
that we all die,
my dear

---

Recorded reading on audioBoom available at this link

A #SpokenWord prompt-inspired poem for:

#MadVerse 413
#ThePaths
#FIERYVERSE
#ntitle 524
#SpeakPoetry

---

Updates:

My short poem “A Brief Respite” was released yesterday at The Poet Community.

“Sweet Dreams” has been accepted by Pankheart for their upcoming Slim Volume: This Body I Live In anthology.

I’d love to continue connecting with everyone here at the blog, as well as on Twitter and Facebook.

Selah,

Scott Thomas Outlar

Hey, Mister Mason
what’s that you’re building?
Do you think that it’s sturdy
and not destined to fall?

Finger to your lips
shh, it’s a secret
Once out in the open
the truth will be revealed

Black and white pieces
hold your positions
Checker the floorboard
as we settle all scores

Oaths that were taken
were given in shadow
Now run to your corners
the Light has come on

Hey, there, King-Maker
your puppets are tattered
Hey, Wizard of Darkness
your reign is dismissed

Dawn of the New Day
ain’t what you thought, eh?
The Phoenix is rising
as we leave you below

---

This poem originally appeared late last August at Dissident Voice where I’ve now been contributing a weekly Sunday poem for the past year. You can follow this link to browse my archive there.

It was also posted recently at the site Social Justice Poetry. This link will take you to that particular archive.

---

This link is to a recorded version of “Broke His Crown” that I sang last night on audioBoom.

There was a time when I used to live alone and thus had plenty of solitude and space to practice singing without disturbing anyone else. Between 2003 (when I was given a small voice recorder as a Birthday gift) and 2013 (when the recorder went on the fritz), I recorded literally thousands of tracks of poetry readings and a cappella song lyrics. After selling my home along with 90% of everything I’ve ever owned a couple of years ago and moving into a house with other people, those days of solitude are gone for the time being. My voice is definitely a bit out of practice, but it’s been fun using these recording platforms I’ve come across lately to try and whip it back into shape.

---

Thank you to Michael Organ at Tuck Magazine for publishing two of my poems yesterday. “Satiating Urges” and “Sleep in the Bed That You Made” can be read here.

Also, thank you to Denise C. Powell at The Voices Project for publishing my poem “Assaulted from Above” yesterday.

---

All comments, critiques, concerns, and suggestions relating to this blog or my work in general are certainly most welcome. Feel free to send a message my way.

I’d love to connect with everyone on Facebook and Twitter.

Selah,

Scott Thomas Outlar