Chester Anderson Covers

Chester Anderson has some of the strangest stories and covers to his name.  Let's take a look at a handful of them here!  I posted a couple of variants as well to show the diversity in his cover arts.  

off and away [haunted] - original poem

off and away [haunted]

where are all the boys

who dream on Murakami pillows

and drift into lucid seams

of Toshio Saeki illustrated scenes?

who are the boys

who ponder on canvas

scratched by Francis Bacon's being

the boys haunted by ghosts

possessed by something else?

full apparitions

and all in-between

watch your step

as we descend

into darkness

to play with glass jars

on wooden shelves

housing eyes, ears

noses, and throats

protected by insecure

unsettled beings

not yet willing to plunge

pushing what's possible

trusting the colors splayed

standing on an alien star

drifting off and away

LINK:  https://allpoetry.com/poem/16477885-off-and-away-haunted-by-Colvet

golden fliers of Ireta - original poem

golden fliers of Ireta

the Anthropocene

of Medellin

warns readers

of the golden fliers of Ireta

with their own stinky sunshine

and deformed parallelograms

of barely undulating fringe

dripping wet sheets

in a dark dripping forest

the outsiders

can sneer all they want

pentadactyl development

is not an anomaly

it's just one of nature's

little conundrums

we all have our own

cryptic flaws

watch us have our day

we need infrared beams

to penetrate

the eternal cloud coverage

over the land of colored lakes

their torsional ores

and underground mineral stores

test our sinews

we must find the old cores

and uranium deposits

too many precious metals to collect

and smith into arcane tools

send down along

distinct capillaries

carrying copper capsules

for the operations of

mothership space

we are not indigenous

to this strange land

we're smelly strangers

the locals are hardly arthropods

shaking my head at this quandary

what pleasant peasantry

enslaved by the command of my riches

stored in a continental basin

with petroleum pools

let the coring expedition begin

well have to dig

around the skeletal remains

on a bountiful

botanical excursion

evaluate your competence

begore taking umbrage

I fear not of the karmic debts

for raping this smelly Earth

and usurping this rock candy mountain

the carrion eaters

haven't come yet

to take away my sinful soul

"ha ha" I say to the naysayers

too afraid of the dragons

on this planet

and interdimensional ghouls

our survey is long from completion

I hate to state

deep sea manganese dredging

must continue

so continue as you were

we'll reach the inland sea

before the last speck of gloom

you'll retire only after a long day

of brutal physical struggle

a series of bright black eyes

LINK:  https://allpoetry.com/poem/16598159-golden-fliers-of-Ireta-by-Colvet

Name That Author #8

This author has a special place in my heart.  They are actually from the same hometown as me and worked near the Collingwood railyard in her prime, a special place for vagrants and backpack kids in this city.  This one should be a cakewalk (hopefully).  

Hint:  Science Fiction

Name That Author #7

This guy is a gem.  If you following my 'What Are You Reading?" posts on Instagram (@lastpagesofhumanity)....this one might pop out to you!

Hint:  Science Fiction Author AND Musical Composer

Lock your guesses in now.  I will start to post the answers after the post has been up for awhile or you can always email me@ lastpagesofhumanity@gmail.com for further correspondences!

personality hunting - original poem

personality hunting

scrambled frontal lobe

eye yoke; egg joke

spilling into

your blood sausage

and blood-red orange juice

eat up sonny

we got personality

hunting to do

here ---

stuff thus twine

by your bunting knife

well have to tie 'em up

momentarily

but they'll still be conscious

you ready?

when we hang their bodies high

hooves crunched by slaughter hooks

dripping over the Russian polka on the radio

blood twinkling in the fluorescent lights

we'll finally get our revenge

slice these bastards' throats

and reincarnate as toxic toads

his ego got

ran over by a moped in Taipei

on his first weekend alive

don't hunt for the anomalies

seeing from the karmic blue eyes

of god's massive, deformed head

with more freedom than 360 degrees

so never apply linear time

and dualistic emotional mines

our bodily fractals remain

exponentially compilated

by concatenated algorithms

ribbiting at the center

of the lake of Hell

atop the beds of green life

infested with bed bugs and mites

good night buddy

sleep tight

LINK:  https://allpoetry.com/poem/16596213-personality-hunting--by-Colvet

electric chair [commonplace] - original poem

electric chair [commonplace]

one last request 

before you fry

let me out of this hole

besides the obvious

asshole

well I guess besides that

you should let me fuck your mother

batman

this man is willing to die in peace

the priest proclaims

as I painfully hold

this prick of pain in my 

pruning fist

if any man

shall deny the things

that god puts within him

he must hope

that a blind saint 

shall save all

of those who fry

for the sanctity of my name

I can hardly hear

as the shackles lock in place

and you warm in the pain

of electric chair currents

revenge will be mine

excruciating pain 

all throughout my body

I'll jerk around like an infant

being rippled to shreds

by a pack of vapid dogs

ask yourself

who's the scum tonight

as you puff your Cuban cigar

you're legal scum

that's the only difference between

a single volume 

of legal law

that distinguishes

what you and I do

although oddly similar

we need be distinguished

no matter how purposeless 

as good and evil

god and satan

black and white

are constantly dodging machetes

unsheathing their knives

but even the highest voltage

cannot cook my veins

or boil my blood

cooled by the icy crystals

of her vocal hex

resonating her honey soaked throat

as my body burns the electric chair

and I thrash around in misery

and push the priest's book

out his vile stubby hands

my numbered uniform

is all bloody

I'm making not one noise

head dropped in an electric headband

covering my burned eyes

but I can still see

oh I can still see

and it's nothing but flakes

of white light refracting

off black stones of coal

floating in cosmic clouds

how commonplace

LINK:  https://allpoetry.com/poem/16588689-electric-chair-commonplace-by-Colvet