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Best Poems Written by Kai Michael Neumann

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Olive's Cinnamon Bark

Olive’s Cinnamon Bark

It took her some while to sense the meaning of feeling good in her skin

Her mirror her prism her mosaic glass and the mist on the crystal of time

At first it had appeared to project a tarnished reflection of yesteryear’s 

				Cinnamon Bark of Youth

A silver hair dropping its flair onto laughter lines and sorrow grooves

The imager an hour glass of pleaded messages to tempt with gloss and mask

To stifle the miracle silken touch with unkind uncalled for varnished perplexion’s

				Olive Shine of Middle Age

Still a child at heart tanned by weather of challenges growth blissfully wild

Perception perspective’s inclusion recovered beauty never lost but adorned

With garnished collection of scent’s senses and unspoken images to become

				Acorns of Seniority

27 March 2018

Copyright © Kai Michael Neumann | Year Posted 2018



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Walls Make Bad Neighbours

Walls Make Bad Neighbours

‘All in all we are just bricks in the wall’ deconstructed by Pink Floyd
                              when they called for a truly kind compassionate reflective society and

                                                        ~ Education ~

Of John Lennon we may think that he was ‘a dreamer but not the only 
                                 one’ to 'give peace a chance' while discounting violent revolution in

                                                         ~ Resistance ~

Wolf Biermann sees his father’s grave every time smoke ascends from
                                  some industrious chimneys of so many concentrated crimes against

                                                         ~ Humanity ~

‘What will the neighbours say’ goes to my parent’s generation when 
                            they continued to live the secret of why they colluded with fascism and

                                                         ~ Genocide ~

Karl Marx clearly saw the alienation of humanity and that ‘knowledge without
                                            action’ was a false shallow unfinished philosophy and empty

                                                          ~ Promise ~

The Scorpions called for ‘winds of change’ but are they a-changing here and today
                                 while most of us sit on fat gluttonous bums or size zero buttocks of

                                                           ~ Delusion ~

The fake golden staircase leads from Zeppelin to Zeppelin with hot air
                               between the sheets of so called progress on eves wasted droned into

                                                           ~ Oblivion ~

Nena’s ‘red balloons’ popped out of nowhere but into nothing’s blip of
               conscience forsaken Nirvana and waning sound bites of candles extinguished by
  
                                                         ~ Destruction ~

If we want to surpass the walls of our prisons we might want to consider
                   removing that one brick at a time that barricades and constricts our quest for 
                            
                                                         ~ Liberation ~

The freedom of justice and the freedom from the walls in our minds as our
                                 children will lay cries of despair at our door with only us to blame in

                                                           ~ Shame ~

We are the guardians of posterity but which side of the fence are we 
                                  sitting on in our greed racism intolerance xenophobia and egotistic

                                                            ~ Denial ~

When we sow winds we will reap storms and the flood gates will open
                        yet transformation makes better neighbours and better companions than  

                                                             ~ Walls ~ 


 

15th November 2016                                                        


                          





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Copyright © Kai Michael Neumann | Year Posted 2016

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Crushed Concrete

CRUSHED CONCRETE UNSTEELED / SEPTEMBER BLUES

BOMBS xxxxxxxxxx           HOPE                               
RUINS xxxxxxxxxxx             PEACE
DRONES xxxxxxxxx                  LOVE 


MEMEME xxxxxxxxx                    KIND
xx EGOEGO  xxxxxx                         NESS
DIVISION   xxxxxxx                     COM
xxx HIERARCHY xxx                            PASSION
HEGEMONY xxxxxxx                 EMPATHY                                                 
 
     
HELL BENT  DOGMA                      
xxxxxxx CONCRETE                   S      R                                              << <<
TOWER xxxxxxxxxx                T       E                                              <<<
xxxxxxx CONCRETE              E        S                  ////// PLAIN PLANE  MAD  TERROR~~~
ILLUSION xxxxxxxx                E     E                   \\\\\\ BAD HUMAN FLIGHT ERROR~~~              
xxxxxxx CONCRETE                   L     R                                              WIN
DECEPTION  xxxxxx                    E     V        CRUS                               GS <<
DEFENCE  xxxxxxxx                      D     E         HED                                                                                                                        
DELUSION  xxxxxxx
DECLINE xxxxxxxxx                   HELP
DELUGE  xxxxxxxxx                            HELP US


xxxx CAPITAL xxxxx                       MULTI    
xxx MILITARY xxxxx                                  CULTURE
xxxxINDUSTRY xxxx                                SKIN                   
xxxxxxxx   POVERTY                                          TONE
GREED xxxxxxxxxxx                 COLOUR
xx DISCRIMINATION                           BLIND
COLONIALISATION x                           ONE RACE
CIVIL WAR xxxxxxxx                                  SOCIAL REST
UNCIVIL WAR  xxxxx                       TRUCE TRUTH


xxxxxx DIE-VERSITY                   DIVERSITY
xx  SHARES STOCKS                           CO
xxxxxx   HIERARCHY                             OPERATION
SHACKLES   xxxxxxx                          FREEDOM
DOMINATION xxxxxx                               LIBERTY 
DESTRUCTION xxxxx             xxxx HAPPINESS xxxx               
xxxx INEQUALITY  xx             xxxx JUSTICE  xxxxxx
xxxx  MONEY  xxxxxx             xxxx   EQUALITY xxxx
CRIME  CRIME CRIME             REASON YES REASON


TWO PILLARS ONE PLANET CRUSHED CONCRETE ONE MAD IGNORANT WORLD

Copyright © Kai Michael Neumann | Year Posted 2016

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Vibrations

a wisp offered him a small bunch of her soul
  
          duet of florets dandelion with lavender

                    purr of petals and silent reminder 

                              fragrance in whispers and love


a window of shelter rose from her words
 
          tranquil tender and soft they reached out

                     tinge of seduction and glimmer of hope

                               voices sore from shouting and sorrow


‘I love you from the depth of my heart’

         ‘my mind needs a vessel of kindness’

                   ‘mumbling essence will heal our pain’

                             ‘together cacophony turns into music’


calmly bespoken a hush left her lips

          offered a bouquet of serene kisses

                    blown from faith and surrender

                              and the earth started to move


inaudible at first a single sound blossomed
 
          a volcano erupted in a show of hot lava

                    tsunamis weaved turbulent waves

                              as their union overcame hardship


no scripted audition no dress rehearsal

          only embers and sparks of crackling heat

                    mumbled desire butterflies and nectar

                              revealing that all will be good in the end


the two lovers threw caution to the wind

          far too loud was the chorus of truth

                     peace sung in harmony’s tunes

                               serenaded balanced emotion


they smelled the sweet melody

          embraced visions of sound

                     touched dreams in abandon

                               tasted promises of caress


it had started with one whisper

          but the message was booming

                    climax repeat and crescendo

                            a symphony of eternal bliss


14th June 2020

Copyright © Kai Michael Neumann | Year Posted 2020

Details | Kai Michael Neumann Poem

My Five Senses

Reminiscing a Future

Taste of my Teddy bear suckling comfort
                    Cool button in his ear on my tongue

Sound of silence of parachute’s silk
                    The nothingness of free fall before landing

Sight of an Octopus squirting ink onto my
                    Diving mask blinding with glimpses of vision

Touch of cow’s dung heating a humble
                    Wall sheltering compassionate feelings

Smell of blotting paper on a fountain
                    Pen’s script reflecting short-lived fragrance

            Synaesthesia? Nonsense? Common Sense? Sixth Sense?

            Ethereal Incense of mind soul and body transcending?

                        I taste childhood
                                I hear freedom
                                        I see no delusions
                                                I touch equality
                                                        I smell passion

I sense...Forever

26th July 2018

Copyright © Kai Michael Neumann | Year Posted 2018



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Finding the Plot

Finding the plot

Of lost innocence
engrained in untold memories

The silenced absence 
in past present unspoken
stories well hidden
and therefore evoking
my past and my future
not mine and mine

Quite a mind-field
mines bombs blazing
artillery burning houses

My antecedent shelter of
generational tapestry
knotted not knotted
attached and attacked 
in hindsight myopic
insight reflection distortion

Existential vertigo
imagination fictitious
'memesis' narrational
irrational in
un-disclosing reality

Approximation of personal
truth and forgetting
un-kown remembrance
what was and was not
what might have been
unsettling my journey
reconcilling projections
more real than the void
of silence screaming

Two photographs
unearthed post mortem
heritage disbelieving
acknowledgment in 
second order ties that
bind generations
for later or worse
in not so new
beginnings

The baby-faced soldier
volunteered for fascist
idealised purity
insignia “Lebensraum”
in mind soul grenades

Mastering marches and race
for books to be burnt and bodies
alike the stench of 'smeltering'
flesh concentrated ashes
on the graveyard of living
hell horror abomination 

Mislead but never
the less culpable
in complicity of non
resistance and passion

Small steps from juvenile
prodigy as child radio
speaker in brown shorts
and obedience
deluded megalomania

Meeting Mussolini
“Heil Hitler my Duce”
surviving Russian winters
of lice infested power
pulverised bodies
ideological mind

This is my history
my baby-faced father
wielding the guns

My mother instead
diving from high platforms
somersaulting into the pools
of water not yet turned
to blood of skins
into lampshades
bayonetted children
dispatched from
dignity freedom
in aberrated inhumanity

She was a champion
of the Reich
winning her laurels
in aesthetic beauty
representing
regime terror crashed crystals
of synagogues gay friendships
political cells
Roma wagons mental
asylums with refuge
refused in annihilation
exterminated in denial
and no mutiny displayed

Later saving roofs from
the fires of retaliation
suffering no doubt
in misplaced childhood
not yet knowing defeat
for a better world to be
dreamt of naively

Beautiful plaits wanting eyes
graceful in innocence of 
a story unfolding
inside and around
etching into
the moment of
ancestral procreation

My history again
and insights lost never found
behind the veil and defence
of post-traumatic perpetration
cynical acceptance of what
has been regardless of 
what was not to be disclosed
responsibility shunned
oozing into the next
generation of children

Never found plots
in aphonic dialogue
shouting so loudly
into the festering wounds
of un-explicable sadness
marching boots
of complicity

I have not walked 
in history’s shoes
just in the silence

My own offspring...

Copyright © Kai Michael Neumann | Year Posted 2016

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Romance Day and Night

Romance Day And Night

How the Romans played their moonlit dreams
splashing out near viaducts of love I can only
wonder same as with knights in shining armour
or rather without when the Ages seemed dark
and oriental spices called for senses and beyond

Roma and Sinti travelling with passion in horse drawn 
wagons moved to the tune of lute flute fruit and delirious
fires I suppose howling with wolves or howling without

I am also a bit of a traveller enchanted by foreign 
lands and customs and my gorgeous lover is the Gipsy
Queen of Fairy-Tale-Land with 'Tinker-bells' and
nights in white satin embraced and embroidered as 
we attune our chords and accords in tune with what is
as the sizzling romance preludes from the rise of the sun

Sometimes we travel on our own and distance makes 
the heart long for even longer and deeper longing and
so on my journey to Egypt a bazar for tapestry fabric
mosaic textures and patterns called for my visit

Here a kind Muslim woman a gentle soul veiled and 
covered with culture decency aura and soul offered 
to advise me on night dress with frills and imprinted 
desire for my wife’s curves and compassion a courteous 
dignified transaction with respect and knowledge for
romance and a thousand and two Arabian nights

What plays in the night stays in the night when skin 
touches skin and states of dress and undress reflect 
the journey together through bright stars and in sparkle 
when we move to rainbows and horizons images in love

I have travelled the world saw the ‘Harem’ in Topkapi 
the back streets of Hamburg ‘Hamams’ in Bagdadh 
‘Passiflora’ and ‘Hamamelis Virginiana’ in the gardens
of plenty and mystic depictions Kama Sutra and all

Celibate monks and virtuous nuns have shown me
temples monasteries ruins natural wonders and 
the Taj Mahal at full moon equalled some grandest
of canyons effervescent springs and the valleys of love

Apart from my lover exploring such sights is the most majestic 
teacher and leader far sighted druid sage and romantic
and many misconceptions can fall and come brittle when 
we mix and we mingle with others on far away grounds
and  the feminine shopkeeperes in Cairo led me some 
way and dissembled some more prejudice in this instance
not just what buying lingerie in the Levant could be like 
but how women of the world can be both quite agentic 
sensual and empowered when seen through their very
own lens harmony preview perception beliefs and not with
distortion of macho controlled domination's limited margins

The 'half mooned' veiled women who transacted silken
see-through garments for your senses’ heights and
and for mine while covered and decent blew gently 
away covert racism sexism gender-ism ism in general
an overt overture away from silhouettes of insanity 

Coming home coming over overcoming all those isms 
in this crazy controlling misguided world we live in is
an antidote to aggression skinning and feuds and in the
magic of our miraculous dreams an exquisite requisite 
and ensemble for what becomes 'loving it better' and
for romancing and dancing heartfelt romance in the night

01st August 2016

Copyright © Kai Michael Neumann | Year Posted 2016

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The Rebel No Anima No Animus

Archetypes flash straight from a pack of Tarot cards
anti-terror Jing Jang synthesis with neuro-spiritual precision
implants explosive animation from the deep unknown
like a taro rootstock growing wings to fly with found suspension

Stereotactic stereotypes archetypes semi-circling soothing storm clouds
thunderbolts and enlightening darkness are my enema of anxious anger critique
of the mono-morph collision of the scalpel shadow ‘Prozacian’ nemesis
neology of ‘animusity’ of ‘newfoundlandel’ comprehension

Dialectical complementation rises higher and higher culminates in
ethereal transcendence where collective personal unconscious
presents my animus in wishful thinking and projections as 
soft and gentle revel rebel raising entropy in tender conservation to escape from

Dogma categorically demanding artificial classification replacing with dimension
flow and rivers stagnant pools of stream of consciousness evading
sexist fragmentation disenfranchising marginalisation assigning male 
and female emasculated o-variation where seminal origin implantation

Precedes nurture socialised indoctrination assignment of celibate promiscuity
My animus refuses to accept in emotional rejection whether Jung and I read 
symbols from the same page or not of masques façades and liberated self
where academic artistry split hairs and personality for the premise of debate

I am a rebel and claim no higher lower ground of superior distension 
He or she who animates friendly animosity is right and incorrect whatever
common ground belies the provocation I propose but possibly my
presentation of what others mean in kindness is too neutral neuters psyche 

While anima and animus illustrate conclude a symbiotic destination
the starting point of this and that left right up above and side by side
is far too circular an argument when we should start not end in union
Male and female are constructions of disparity of power and repression 

Archetypes are not therefore I am

11th June 2016



Animus-Anima Part II—Animus – Poetry Contest

Sponsor Tom Quigley

Copyright © Kai Michael Neumann | Year Posted 2016

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Shadow Play

Shadow Play

While Freud sits at the mind end of the couch phallus in hand
shapes others’ dreams in unspoken imposition ‘must-abation’
analyses abuses his daughter in metaphorical incest projects
his own aggressive sexual drives and neurotic megalomania

Jung after killing the father figure sits with and under shadows 
gathers the zenith of clouds rays collects collective conscience
unconsciousness retrieves ancient symbols propagates mythical 
archetypes to archetypical conclusions reflects tainted sunshine

He forges gently I surmise poles and vaults of contradictions 
opposites polar juxtapositions seemingly un-mutual mysteries
and ponders light and darkness tearing torn apart thus healing
in the complementing contrast of void change completeness

Where Freud posits polymorph perversity bit by sexual bitter
sweet bit in a bid for so called science of mind over matter Jung 
morphs perpetual change crafted and cast through a different
lens admits to poetic licence narration oral traditions and growth

Erection in mind not of the penis castrated in fear not envious of 
phallic dominance over clitoral defence wombs groomed entombed 
by guilt transgression sexual submission shallow anal oral penile 
ossification of flaccid resurrection Jung begs and offers to differ

In complex incomplete never-ending search a path from change to
change and beyond dialectical synthesis played enacted in parallel
processes and progressive psychological drama of a different kind
he much kinder more reflective less regressive and adventurous

Lets shadows erect and paint play dance reflect and move on

16th August

Copyright © Kai Michael Neumann | Year Posted 2016

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Eating Words

Eating Words

On my way to the gym to shape my well nourished body
I travel a whole Universe of madness from leafy suburbs
high walls electric fences barbed wire marble statues and
well manicured lawns a distasteful reminder of opulence
within self imposed ghettos that shelter fortress’ denial 

Tin roofs over crowded abodes rest shaky on crumbling walls
where the ‘fortunate ones’ live with cover over heads and
they float past and of course I must watch the roads not 
to get carried away by distraction and too much unpleasant
reflection from the mirrors inside me the prisms of wealth

Ghandi comes to mind Karl Marx and the Buddha a slim one
not the laughing kind with round hips and satisfied fat belly
revolution opium for the masses passive painful resistance
Black Consciousness Nelson Mandela’s long road to freedom
Orwellian animals more equal than others mattering more

I’m almost there for my training aerobic and muscles when 
hawkers and beggars ply their trade at the traffic lights in
tune with car exhausts breathing a different air of pollution
than I on the treadmill sweating air conditioned push ups
the barefoot children showing resilience have not yet given up 

A few coins here and there a sandwich an orange and the 
odd Rand bill to lighten my load on a good day when the
conscience takes over takes me under the radar of guilty
complexion buying freedom from too many thoughts eating
chipping away taking from plate and the template of my mind

Being mindful when I emerge from my vehicle is written on 
the sounds of cacophonic silence as my path takes a route to 
that privileged work out through cheap happy music blasting my 
ears past the shops in the mall cosmetics electronics designer
clothes designer dreams Gucci and Prada temples of greed

Only when the final tree last mall has been felled and the ice 
bergs have vanished scorched earth scorching sun has fried up 
our skins when the worship of dollars has accomplished the sign
of delusion when the shops and the palaces have run out of 
fancy steam cynical music abundance of neon odorous crime

Only when only where just within and without might I choke
see sensible sense stop rationalization that am doing enough 
when I think philosophy politics history without acting upon it
when the tin roofs and barely clothed paupers the thinly veiled
hunger for more falls on its sword will I notice that I cannot eat 
mammon that I’m eating their food and they cannot eat my words

24th August 2016

Copyright © Kai Michael Neumann | Year Posted 2016

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Book: Shattered Sighs