THE OTHER OPTION
No 
No
thank you   No
thank you   No thank you! 
Just
no  
Just
not feeling it 
Just
not 
not 
not not
no 
 No!   NO!!
What
part of no   DON’T you understand? 
N   O   
Please
remove your hand 
Please
remove your hand 
No 
None
of that    None 
  Nada 
Nada
thing   Nothing  
 
Silence The Unspoken   The Refusal  
Not 
  the UN-Lived 
Not 
  the    i couldn't care less
Not 
  the silence of indifference or recusal 
nor
the conspiracy of consent 
Not
the absence of yes 
But
no   Just no 
Just
yes    to no 
No           to
the enslavery of yes 
the
submissive acceptance  
the
demand and expectation  
the
sublimation    of truth and desire 
I’ve
burned those bridges 
I set
my own house on fire 
and I
escaped 
i've
been beaten kidnapped raped
The
rapists   the manipulators   the
liars  
the
mistakes…they are erased     
all in
my head of course    (let’s call it a gift...OK?)
I will
not be led   down that path anymore 
I will
impeach and abort   the
shoulds and what ifs 
It
wasn’t supposed to happen like this
I am
the protest   the resistance the emporwerment 
of all
the burning stars in the sky    you CANNOT see        
I am
the singing meteor 
ghosting
all the no shows 
repeat
after me   repeat after me 
I am
not past tense 
I am
the nonsense of sense 
I am
just left of right   I won’t take back the night 
 
I am
the Visibly invisible   
I am
the other option 
I am
the dark that shines 
 
                     
          the light 
untitled
i’m the one
who’s never home 
when you knock 
and if she is 
when you don’t
admits no one
black or white 
living or dead
 
henny penny had many heads
 
i’m the trick i performed
long before i was born
like this poem written
backwards
i’m the stunt that defies
i’m the cry to deaf eyes
whose only reply is 
ashes  ashes
 
the Lord moves in mysterious
ways
and i am falling upwards
 
i’m the earth that turns
and fells me from its tree
i’m the ocean that slides from
my shore
i’m a point as moved as any
fixed mark
i’m the eyes of the dead
potato
that finds it’s way back in
the dark
 
i’m the blood i give
but never give up
i’m the wine that flows
outside the cup
i’m the truth inside the lie
i’m transparent fucking
butterfly
 
the Lord moves in mysterious
ways
so why can’t you or i?
 
i’m the play i’m writing
without a plot
the word “forget“ that i
forgot
the regret that once escaped
my lips
the mercy that hangs now round
my hips
with the pull of gravity
the real of unreality
the all or
nothing    the nothing of all
the indelible handwriting on
the wall
that hummmms   like
a ghetto rhapsody
 
i’m the bum in the park who
says less is more
the plexiglass sky of the
invisble floor
the one who cries just outside
your door
i’m the intimate stranger
whose smile will always hint
of you
the Living Poem
the anonymous fingerprints of
you
the enemy you befriend 
whose soul can transcend you
the goodbye that may begin
but can never really end with
you
 
i’m the saint,   i’m
the sinner
i’m the fish you ate for
dinner
i’m the air growing thinner as
i sighhh
i breathe the breathless
my death is deathless
i’m the song i sing when i
rise
 
i’m the altar kneeling
the all revealing  
healing of the human kind
i’m the splinters i’m still
peeling
from the cross i drag behind
 
i’m the mold   
and the molder
i’m the front-row-center
season-ticket-holder
STEP RIGHT UP 
 FOLKS!
THE MYSTERY…THE STAR YOU’VE
WAITED FOR!
i’m the protigée of the
original sin
i AM the light i’m buried in
 
i’m the moth   
i’m the flame
i’m the prayers for the insane
i’m
everywhere    and nowhere
please  
remember   my   Name
Neither This Nor That
In the beginning was the word
And with it came the sound
That sound  that sound
that chanking echo of light vibration
intonation of creation
virtuoso improvisation
in the moment celebration sound.
And the sound came
from his horn of plenty
That primal piercing pulsation
of deliberate distortion and   syncopation
like hot chocolate
like hot chocolate goin’ dowwwwnnn
in the steamy jazz joint jungle sound
bum bum bum bum bum-bumbumbumbumbum
And the sound came
from her soft bruised lips in the dark
that low slow moaning
that low slow moaning of nuance and rapture
rising in polyphonic rhythm
like a choir of angels
                 
             through the rafters
And the sound came
and the sound Caaaammme
And The Sound CAAAAMMMME
AND THEY CALLED IT JAAAAAAAAAAAAZZ!
Jazz.
Jazz new and quivering between two notes
neither this nor that
neither this nor that
Jazz Cool     and Jazz Hot
maybe I am  and maybe I’m not
neither this nor that   neither this nor that
And the sound came
How did I get to be so black and blue…
from New Orleans to Saint Louie
Armstrong waving his white handkerchief
like a flag
sounding his trumpet and a call to freedom!
Because the sound went
The sound went where it pleased!
Freedom!
And the sound came
The sound came where it pleased!
Freedom!
neither this nor that\
neither this nor that
Jazz Cool and Jazz Hot
maybe I am   and maybe I’m not
Jazz blowin’ our minds
out of BOTH sides of his mouth.
Hush now, don’t explain…You’re my joy and pain…
Ragtime in no time
in the meantime, in between time
bebop and rebop
It don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing
Doo wop doo wop doo wop doo wop
Razmatazz and free jazz
to be or not to be jazz
Fusion in profusion in comefusion
empty talk and stuff
whadya talk whadyatalk
and all that jazz
In the beginning was the word
And with it came the sound
the sound of the universe
expanding and contracting
breathing out and breathing in
Birds do it, bees do it, even educated fleas do it
Let’s fall in let’s fall in
Bum bum bum-bum bum bum-bum bum bum-bum
The sound known and knowable
Through the essence of common senses
the spiritual experiences
the inhalation and exaltation
the horizontal celebration
of Love’s poem
(Oh baby! Give me that anything goes jazz!)
The sound of the universe
earthbound and divine
breathing out and breathing in
Man trembling between both spheres
earthbound and divine
breathing out and breathing in
Rocking back and forth between two notes
neither this nor that
neither this nor that
Jazz Cool and Jazz Hot
CONTINually Blowing His OWN HORN
This I AMMM!
Bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah
Waaah Waaah wahhh
OH YEAHhhhhhh!
Antonia Alexandra Klimenko was first introduced on
the BBC and to the literary world by the legendary James Meary Tambimuttu of
Poetry London–-publisher of T.S. Eliot, Dylan Thomas, Henry Miller and Bob
Dylan, to name a few.  his death, it was his friend, the late great Kathleen
Raine, who took an interest in her writing and encouraged her to publish. 
A nominee for the Pushcart Prize, The Best of the Net, and a former San
Francisco Poetry Slam Champion, she is widely published. Her work has appeared
in (among others) XXI Century World Literature (which she represents
France) and Maintenant : Journal of Contemporary Dada Writing and
Art archived at the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C. and New
York’s Museum of Modern Art. She is the recipient of two grants: one from
Poets in Need, of which Michael (100 Thousand Poets for Change) Rothenberg is a
co-founder; the second—the 2018 Generosity Award bestowed on her by Kathleen
Spivack and Joseph Murray for her outstanding service to international writers
through SpokenWord Paris where she is Writer/ Poet in Residence.  Her
collected poems On the Way to Invisible is forthcoming in
2023.


Super wonderful! Bravo!
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