12-15-14

I'm a Ninja

Sneaky Sneaky,
black clad lurking
in shadows.

Hide your kids
hide your wives,
cuz they be 'ssassinating
everybody. 

12-13-14

Today is the Last Sequential Date of the Century

Holy shit.
Really??
Wowzers

A real poem would contain
rhyme and meter,
but son, I got news for
you, I made soup today
and it's pretty swell
the way you say random
vitamins and elephants
pogo sticks and iced
tea. What oh what
is the point, shall I de
-scribe it to you?

12-11-14

Poetry Unbound

Poetry that kicks you in
the dick and snarls at you.

Poetry that steals your
lunch money and laughs.

Poetry that stings. Makes
you wish you never read it.

Poetry that hooks your breaks
your kneecaps, cause you owe it money.

Poetry that breaks form.

Poetry that chases you through
the weight room, demanding more reps.

Poetry that destroys you, and
then rebuilds you, anew. 

12-10-14

Statements that lead to Break Ups (Part One)

"Like my Dane Cook poster?"
"Merry Christmas, I got you the new Nickleback CD"
"50 Shades of Grey has really compelling characters."
"Gosh I love Axe Body Spray"
"Battlefield Earth is a classic."
"We should move to Muncie."
"I just rented the Director's Cut of Kangaroo Jack, wanna watch?"

12-9-14

Finals Week

oh god ohgodohgod
my life is over
everything is happening so
quickly why god why
save me flying spaghetti
monster i think im gonna
cry no i am gonna cry
no im crying please have
mercy what why
why two essay questions
you said these questions
would be easy what
why on earth would i know
that am i the only one
everyone seems to be ok
no ones sweaty girl next
to me is filling in bubbles
like a champ wait
C for number 3 what
i thought C was the most wrong
oh god the clocks ticking
i can hear my own heart beat
i think im gonna go to a bar
after this
no im gonna buy a bar
and live there
oh god halfway through
only 30 minutes left
wait no im not done
i worked all semester on this
i thought i understood

Now they're all done,
no more paper and ink,
no more pain. Now we
rest. Until next semester.

Retrospective

A poem a day is really hard to do.

But it definitely feels inspiring, to look back at the whole thing and think to myself, "This wasn't writing for a class, this was just me sitting down, 30 minutes here and there, and writing."

A poem a day was hard to do. Many days I sat down, thinking about what to write about, but I just couldn't. Distracted with other things, uninspired. These were things that contributed to me missing a lot of days.

Just flat out forgetting also contributed to me missing a lot of other days as well.

Going to bed, about to sleep. Think. "Shit! forgot a poem"

Ended up being about a poem every other day, or every three days.

You can sort of see the parts of the last few months where I had other pressing issues to worry about, like editing for the BP, by the big gaps in time from poem to poem.

A poem a day is really hard to do.

I'm definitely gonna continue this blog. When I started doing this blog, I wanted it to be something that I could continue with. I wanted it to be something to stimulate my writing, and help to create a more rigorous schedule for writing, and thus, more content. Even thought the BP class will end, this will keep going. It's a good way to organize my work, and look back at what I've done. Not all of its good, its not supposed to be.

It's just supposed to get me to write more, which I think it did.

A poem a day is hard.

You can look back and sort of see what I was listening to for each poem. Like Born to Run <3

12-8-14

Mouthwash and Battery Acid

We are battery acid
corroding through hard
plastic, tasting of blue
sky.

Thinking of you, lying
still next to my beating
heart.

We are mouthwash,
stinging tastebuds
and searing the plaque off
of our tongues.

Blood courses through
my body, heat.

12-7-14 Part Two, feeling inspired tonight

Appearances

He stands there like a private eye,
flicking a zippo and leaning on a
window. Trench coat and fedora,

cigarette butt under the heel,
seen behind the wheel of
a '69 Ford Mustang, teal.

"What'll you have, mister?"
barkeep asks.

He saunters up to the bar,
scratching his beard, looking
fierce with that scar.

"Nothing thank you. The comic book
convention is next door, I'm just wandering
around. Do you like my costume?"

12-7-14

I Don't Want To Slay Dragons

Dragons are a misunderstood breed,
sought out by greedy and
selfish knights, supposed
paragons of chivalry and
grace, in reality -
evil men in search of
misguided glory and power.

I've never met a dragon that I
haven't liked, was endeared by
and fell in love with. Smoky
nostrils, grinning teeth.
Sure, they're rather fierce
reptiles, but deep down,
every dragon is a lovable
teddy bear.

We shall walk together,
for a dragon is a proud creature,
too beautiful to be a mount.
We shall search for treasure
and adventure.

Also, lighting campfires
is easy with a dragon.

12-3-14

Party (Six Feet Under)

You would never think
that Benjamin Franklin
could break dance quite like
that. The rest of the founding fathers
cheer, joined in by a few ancient
Greek philosophers, and a particularly
pious New York cab driver.

Jesus tends the bar with care
and precision, listening, providing
endless wine, and stealing more
than his fair share of sips.

I always figured heaven would be a bar,
dim and smoky, Hemingway, Cobain,
Plath, and Hendrix play cards in
the corner.

The crack of billiard balls and
clinking glasses, no one cares
who's picking up the tab.

12-1-14

Smarties

Sitting on rail road
tracks, the sky a perfect purple
and violet, we crinkle the celephane
off a roll of smarties.

I pop a few into my mouth
and chew. You still insist
that they have different flavors,
an argument I'll never understand.

It's just sugar
CRUNCH CRUNCH
there's no flavor to it,
other than sweetness.

You were always stubborn,
insistent upon this blatant
falsehood, wiping the dust
from your fingers on the cool grass. 

11-28-14

(Born to Run) Maybe Part One

Let us go then, you
and I, blasting off
behind the wheel of
a 98' Mustang. The
squeal of gravel flying,
I want to die with you.

We'll run away,
along the sides of
freeways and intergalactic
expressways.
Leave the top down.

I hold the gearshift,
wind whipping and eyes
locking. We'll crash
and burn, like we always
have, like we always will. 

11-26-14

The Symphony

The eyes that have seen the

face of God, the eyes

that have turned away

to stare at wooden planks.

Those are the eyes of

a graveyard, a

tombstone snared in

the strangling embrace of ivy.

How tired this old man

looks. His body, a

coffin, carrying a spirit that

faded long ago.

When he meets my

gaze, I feel nothing

but pity and remorse.

My father. My captain.

His is a life I cannot take,

for he will never truly

die. His is a life destined

for doom and misery.

I think to my parents

and music. I think of

surging emotion

and love.

Never again will I know warm

embrace. Never again

will I see the snow

fall on Nantucket.

Never again will I

hear the cry of a child,

or smell fresh baked bread.

There is nothing left to do.

I have nothing more to say.

The birds are circling.

11-22-14

Past Memories of Kid Cuisine

Walking in through the door
a paragon of awkwardness.
Do you still bend your
knee in that little crook
that slight stilt that
sends shivers up your spine?

Come with me to the old
lands, and fly with me
on the backs of unicorns.

And Dandelions. 

11-19-14

Towels

Soft cotton embrace
I'm reminded of the way
that my mother used to
fold you

Frayed edges
threadbare and lost
I hold you and breath
in.

11-17-14

Summer of '99

While everyone was waiting for their
Hogwarts acceptance letter,
arrived via snowy owl on a Sunday
evening, I was busily practicing
my skills with the blade.

The lightsaber can cut through
anything. It's pure energy, pure
awesome. I worked hard, concentrating
on that pen, screaming at it with a flick
of the wrist, a wrinkled brow -
MOVE.

I waved my hands around
like an air traffic controller,
trying to convince my mother.
Lucky Charms was necessary.

Jumping, waving my sword around,
I frightened numerous squirrels,
keeping the evil empire at bay.

I won many battles, but I
lost the war.

Dust gathers on those old
boxes. 

11-16-14

Police Sirens and Mac 'N Cheese

Lunchtime in the city was
always something.
She looks tired,
guiding the train
into the station, a look
of tired glee on her face.

Cries and grins of joy,
and the child doesn't
know any better.

She glances up at the
television and sighs,
silently wringing her hands.

The snow starts to fall,
snow cone flakes of pure
sugar. 

11-13-14

Drums

Thundering drums that build
and pound my ears
make my heart beat realign
and thump thump thump
to a different thumping

The crash of cymbols
like thunder
like gunshots sing
and shake
the ringing of steel

Reverberations echo in
my mind and in my
heart

I watch as you pound
the buck skin heads
shaking your head and
melting away into the
air

Lights flash and shine
your body contorting
eyes closed and passion
flying like a hawk
diving into the music and
attacking it

The song is over but
we keep our eyes closed
remembering the melody
the thumping pulsating
rhythm and never forget

Your sticks clatter to the ground
I down my drink and let the glass
go
a little bit of honey left at
the bottom .

11-12-14

Dreaming of Root Beer

And the way that it used
to fizz and bubble in
my mouth, tasting
of earth and black licorice.

We used to love root beer,
staying up late
in our sleeping bags,
mixing it with vanilla
ice cream,

and waiting for midnight
to tell only the
scariest ghost stories
to each other, listening to
the wind shake the trees. 

11-9-14

The Ant Tyrant

He rules his ant farm with an
iron fist. If they don't obey -
execution by magnifying
glass.

The queen?
A puppet.

He put her into power,
knowing she'd bend
the knee to his will.

The ants weren't aware that
they were in a farm. The massive
figure that loomed over them,
brought food, struck down
their insect brothers with the
light of heaven. He was more
like a god to them.

One day maybe, they'd
rise up, revolt and bring
down the tyrant. Viva la
Ant Revolution.

Poem of the day 11-6-14

Rock Star Poetry

He fends off the paparazzi,
signs autographs on
chapbooks,  waves to
the crowd of cheering
admirers, begging
him to recite a few cantos.

Sunglasses, slick suit,
Queen of England nodding
in approval, clapping. The
premier of his new poem
attracted more than the
Presidential Inauguration,
the Super Bowl, and your
average WNBA crowd.
Combined.

Sauntering up to the podium,
he removes his shades, sliding
them into his jacket pocket.
Viewers in the front row
swoon and need to be
removed on stretchers by
paramedics.

He pulls a folded
piece of legal paper from his
back pocket, the paper crinkling,
the crowd roaring. A quick
wave of his hand -
silence.

As he reads, the
crowd is so lost in
the experience, giving
themselves to poetry,
that they don't realize
he's plagiarized  T. S. Eliot.

Poem of the Day 11-3-14

Things You Never Hear Spoken Aloud For 200, Alex. Part One

I walked into a
Blockbuster Video
the other day, and
what surprised me
the most, I think,
was how expensive
it is to rent a VHS.
13 Dollars is too
much for the Director's
Cut of Kangaroo Jack.

Poem of the day 11-2-14

The Bird Watcher's Wife

She begs him not
to go, to stay and not
risk it all. No one's
ever photographed
the Sicilian Vulture
Owl before. Dammit
Jim! It's suicide!

They both know how
dangerous it is. Climb
the sheer cliff face, hike
for 7 miles, spelunk
into a cave, swim
through the mazelike,
underwater caverns,
navigate the labyrinth,
befriend a dragon,
ride him over the mountains,
defeat a leprechaun in
battle of wits and riddles,
bring together the four
keys of Ahrman-Suk,
and finally make a blood
offering to the Goddess.

Is it worth it?
The red plumage,
only written about,
the arched neck, pointed
beak. The adventure of
a life time, probably
resulting in death.

He clutches her close,
sighs, and watches the
sun slowly set through
parted window blinds.

Poem of the day 11-1-14

Grocery List

4 Pack of Fluorescent bulbs
Gallon of Milk
Pack of Condoms
Cheese
Lettuce
Bottle of Whiskey
Lighter Fluid
Ice cream
Pills
Lip Balm
Some rope
Goldfish
A shovel
Popcorn
Pick up prescription
Gas
Razors

Poem of the day 10-27-14

I left the window open last
night, letting the wind breeze
and drift through, yellowed
leaves and pieces of weathered
paper, tumbling end over end.

When I awoke, a napkin
lay upon my desk, fluttering.
In hastily scribbled
lipstick-smeared crimson:
I'm sorry.

Poem of the day 10-25-14

 I want to climb a tree,
the way we used to
when grape juice and
fruit roll ups were what
we'd have for dinner.

Come with me, up
to the tallest branch, where
the blue jay made her
nest, where the blue jays
learned to fly by falling.

Maybe we'll fall.
Hopefully we'll fall.
Broken bones will mend
with time. Fall
with me and fly.

Or maybe we'll just sprawl
out on a branch, looking at
the clouds. See things that
might have been, the things
that we made shapes of long ago.

I went to the bookstore
the other day, looking
for notes that you left
in the margins, the
scribbles, so that I might
touch paper you touched,
breath scents you breathed,
hold books you held. 

Thursday October 23 2014 - First Post. Abecedarian Experimentations

Experimenting with abecedarian form. Every word begins with the next letter of the alphabet, 26 words long.

ABC, 123,  Baby You and Me

After brunch, call dad.
Exclaim - father! Go
high into joy.
Keep life.
Make new, original
peace. Quell
rage. Sing
to us.
Visualize wonder.
X-Ray your Zaniness.