Transitus Veneris. Poem. Audio. Howard D Moore.

Author Notes

Hear it read by the author- Soundcloud


the calculus of certainty

upon a rotational spin,

a speck in space and time

such vast circumstances

reduced to the precision of man-made clocks;

we see beyond sight

reckon beyond our reach, measure

vague ponderables–

reason is a lever, long enough

to heft the weight of time


and Venus


so few days apart after so many years in wait

love and loss, heart filled, heart empty

when life is a day glowing like the Sun

from rise to setting , to the spike of light

wisped away,  last hiss of a candle

pinched to blackness by the sea.

When you sit near stars that love us from afar

when you are Love, when I want you near

yet you are distant and the end of day

comes to clear the slate I have been given.

When you travel across the space of my heart

and life lifts away, into the space of

mysteries without solution

when you are yet Love, and I

am soon gone; 


and Vee-nus!


a name so old, it brings the face

of forgotten Gods, when

ruins were young, when an ancient word

finds new dark-skinned divinity, those curved stone

statues blush envy.

On pavement filled by busy feet in day,

quicker steps in neon red night and

Latin beats, rappin’- booty shakin’

blue jean seams stretched to the point

of sheeeeer delight!

When a smile is a deep invitation, ohhh so fine

in the haze of wine and smoky laughter

She is Love in store-bought hair, half a skirt

deep mascara stares and flirts, a stroll

that melts the Saint within man

and waist moves that mans-up the boy

Muse-ic makes the hips roll, waist

revolve- an orbit of bends and side- to- side  slides

a blouse that wears only part of her…

She is a certain kind of Love for few who dare

for every wish of  tropical air without cares

oblivion becomes  a thing far, far beyond

some hours, some sweet sweat,  heavy breaths,

and wanting…“Venus…Baby…”


“come cross the flo’ with me…”


New year 2012



Howard D.Moore resides in Detroit, MI., USA.  He is a writer and government relations  consultant. His professional, educational  background is in law and public policy. He writes poetry, political and social commentary blogs,  literary styles in fiction, poetry, prose,and Eastern forms . He has published two books of prose, and several magazine articles  and anthologies. His current projects include a novel, and a book of poetry expected in January, 2014.

Nothing moves so fast as your future becoming your past

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That’s Why I Write. Poem. Kwame Write Aidoo.

‘That’s why I write’

My ink flies far when I Orville write..
[That’s why I write]
It’s ideal to open up and let the brains breathe right..
[That’s why I write]

Oprah talks,  Brad Pitt acts, I write!

Weird would the world be without writers..
Like Martin’s assassination story without snipers.
What? No Bible revelations?
No Readers’ digests?
No Quran quotes?
No Daily graphics?
No music magazines?
not even Kama sutra notes?
[That’s why I write]

I don’t tittle-tattle, I’d rather scribble-scrabble
Gossips are short-lived so let my pencil prattle
Poetry paints the state of affairs, affairs of the state
So why keep a glutton crayon by a starving slate?
[That’s why I write]

Born was I the same year noble Soyinka took Nobel award
My manger must have been brushed by his white hair wand..
Toddling, I watched Efua Sutherland weave ‘Anansesem’ with her palm,
Pondering why Kwaku Ananse hid a calabash of the whole world wisdom.
[That’s why I write]

But trifling is the written when never read..
Could we have the Passover without the bread?
So read Shakespeare’s or Blakes’s! Atukwei’s Ama’s
If you’ld read none, inspire…



Kwame’s love for wordplay has earned him online publications, awards from the Scrabble Association of Ghana and a couple of nicknames including Write. He is a nominee for the International Best Amateur Poet by World Poetry Organisation, a biochemist working as a health & safety consultant who believes that freelance writing, spoken word and rap are not only rich arts but tools for educating and inspiring people. Kwame Write founded Inkfluent which produced Vocal Portraits; a spoken word compilation that brought together 15 artists from 3 continents: Africa, America and Europe. When he’s not with the pen, he’s most likely playing beach soccer or making new friends over a bowl of fufu and palm wine. You can visit him at and

Twitter: @kwamewrite





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Filming ‘Blood Shot Silk’ – Deleted Scene (38-42) Poem. Christopher Barnes


Filming ‘Blood Shot Silk’ – Deleted Scene (38)


One frame inheriting another…

Blood on marble and white roses.

Stand-alone vampire crystallizes into a statue.

The nearest pall-bearer sucks air. Crushed urn.


 Froth overruns chapelry pews

Through a hinge-wrecked door –

 An ephemeral embodiment.


Filming ‘Blood Shot Silk’ – Deleted Scene (39)


 Take No. 7

 In rubescent lamé pyjamas.

 Sabrina Roper’s is a skin-deep part,

 Moulding exposed nerves

 In the screening room.

 A moon-buffed kiss on hand.

 His Satanic Majesty simpers.

Runaway violin a bedlamite tango…

Chimps neighing over the sobs of men…


Filming ‘Blood Shot Silk’ – Deleted Scene (40)


 The picture palace reviews

 May get off-the-beam

 About the overacting.

 Hold the focus,

 Instantaneous sunrise behind a shot –

 Costumes: the fantasia keeps time

 With a hue and cry.

 The limelit alehouse at dead of night.

 Our Stunt Co-ordinater isn’t exasperated

 By bee swarms in gusts,

 Nor the beg-hard grimace

 On Manola Dean’s hauled up face.


 Filming ‘Blood Shot Silk’ – Deleted Scene (41)


 Fuzz on Bevan’s palms

 Flaunted as the transom’s pegged.

 Simon, the Boom Operator, tips to the left.

 Cut to…billboard puffing the movie show ‘Nosferatu’.


 Camera 6 whirls to Sabrina Roper

 In the ruck of a bee-keepers net.

 A schnauzer piddles in floorboards.


 The relinquished rocking chair teeters

 Indicating tea, sandwiches

 And a twist-ragged Script Conference.


Filming ‘Blood Shot Silk’ – Deleted Scene (42)


 Smoke machine on a brae…

 A hog spews on moss.

 Effervescence in dirty sky.

 Disfigured colour sergeant gains time,

 Pulls out a smooth-bore.

 Snigger, incandescent flash.

 The dream is taking flesh.

 Drumroll on soundtrack – mental note.

 The regular steps of the fait accompli

 May be fair-weather, deleted.



 Christopher Barnes, UK. Some bio details…


In 1998 I won a Northern Arts writers award.  In July 200 I read at Waterstones bookshop to promote the anthology ‘Titles Are Bitches’.  Christmas 2001 I debuted at Newcastle’s famous Morden Tower doing a reading of my poems.  Each year I read for Proudwords lesbian and gay writing festival and I partake in workshops.  2005 saw the publication of my collection LOVEBITES published by Chanticleer Press, 6/1 Jamaica Mews, Edinburgh.

On Saturday 16Th August 2003 I read at the Edinburgh Festival as a Per Verse poet at LGBT Centre, Broughton St.

 I also have a BBC web-page and (if first site does not work click on SECTION 28 on second site.

Christmas 2001 The Northern Cultural Skills Partnership sponsored me to be mentored by Andy Croft in conjunction with New Writing North.  I   made a radio programme for Web FM community radio about my writing group.  October-November 2005, I entered a poem/visual image into the art exhibition The Art Cafe Project, his piece Post-Mark was shown in Betty’s Newcastle.  This event was sponsored by Pride On The Tyne.  I made a digital film with artists Kate Sweeney and Julie Ballands at a film making workshop called Out Of The Picture which was shown at the festival party for Proudwords, it contains my poem The Old Heave-Ho.  I worked on a collaborative art and literature project called How Gay Are Your Genes, facilitated by Lisa Mathews (poet) which exhibited at The Hatton Gallery, Newcastle University, including a film piece by the artist Predrag Pajdic in which I read my poem On Brenkley St.  The event was funded by The Policy, Ethics and Life Sciences Research Institute, Bio-science Centre at Newcastle’s Centre for Life.  I was involved in the Five Arts Cities poetry postcard event which exhibited at The Seven Stories children’s literature building.  In May I had 2006 a solo art/poetry exhibition at The People’s Theatre why not take a look at their website

The South Bank Centre in London recorded my poem “The Holiday I Never Had”; I can be heard reading it on

REVIEWS: I have written poetry reviews for Poetry Scotland and Jacket Magazine and in August 2007 I made a film called ‘A Blank Screen, 60 seconds, 1 shot’ for Queerbeats Festival at The Star & Shadow Cinema Newcastle, reviewing a poem…see  On September 4 2010, I read at the Callander Poetry Weekend hosted by Poetry Scotland.  I have also written Art Criticism for Peel and Combustus Magazines.





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