Sunday, May 2, 2010

Poem 30 - a narrative contemplation

I have come to the harsh realization that no matter how bad my poetry is, attempting to write a poem every day is going to make it even worse. Putting a time constraint makes me feel forced to abandon any methods that I may have previously encountered or attempted. Rushing definitely makes quantitative work as opposed to qualitative work, at least for me, at least at this time in my life. Either way, it has been noted, I kept the goal (relatively) and responded to it. And now I know better than to put a timer on my creative work. I'll probably delete most of these poems and I don't want to delete any substantial amount of work in the future, especially if it is for my fiction writing. I hope you may have enjoyed some of them. I think there were two that I am proud of. Which did you like? And I'll not send it immediately to the trash.

Poem 29 - the crane

The crane dismisses the tornado
So long has it been
Since before their paths crossed

But the swirling gray beast follows
Leaving class behind at the threshold
Rumbling instead of requesting for a dance

A whiteness spread past its normal span
Bones forced beyond double-joints
And feathers trembling against the beat of wind

Outstretch neck twisting like a ribbon
Wings fluttering like traditional fans
To perform a duet it takes two, justifies the storm

Poem 28 - Mosley

You've probably figured out by now that I didn't finish the thirty poems in time for poetry month, but I'm getting the last few in now. The reason why you would figure it out at this point is because here's one about Mosley in the fight which only happened last night. Break my heart...

Fights are lost for just
But humbled shall be Mosley
With reward in life

Keep your money May-
weather and see not true gold
Swear on then grow old

Poem 27 - Windowsill Items

Items sitting on my windowsill:

A blow-up doll batman with a power punch bracelet that says "BANG!"
A miniature Radio Flyer red wagon
An ostrich size Dinosaur egg wrapped in foil (in the red wagon)
A dog in a sombrero in a hat under clown red cotton balls in a cardboard picture frame
A giant bullet with a French named masked man who specializes in barrel rolling imprinted on it
An adjustable lamp and pair of speakers which are always buzzing

Poem 26 Summer reasoning

The sun has taken custody of my reasoning
I faintly remember the word "work"
but cannot pinpoint the exact definition
I'm sure it must have to do with strawberries
for I am currently eating a bucket full
each one in two bites
and I recall that work is something to do regularly
Snacking on red shapely sweets is also
definitely something to do regularly
And so I shall all day
under the sun under the shade
occasionally beneath a blanket
But was work always this delightful?
I shall not remember for as long as the sun
steals my reasons

Poem 25 tumbling


Tumbling

You tumble down naturally
Like flowers I’ve given you
Not the cut ones from stores
Or wrapped by street vendors
Like flowers I’ve given you
The ones that fall from trees

Taking you to the gardens
With black and white tulips
Cherry blossom trees draw you
A silhouette in a blush
Sanctuary for secrets
I give you flowers

I give you flowers
This way where they keep thriving
I want to give you everything
While compromising nothing
I want to give you everything
Blossoms, bases, roots

Saturday, May 1, 2010

Poem 24 Ode to Martha Jaques and Pink

Ode to Martha's Bakery

Thank you Martha
whoever you are
for I now know
the true meaning
of red velvet

I have an excuse
to throw hazelnut
ice cream on
my chocolate chip cookie
from Jacques Torres

Ode to Jacques Torres

Thank you Jacques
whoever you are
for I now know
the true meaning
of chocolate chips

I have an excuse
to throw painted
truffles on
my frozen yogurt
from Pinkberry

Ode to Pinkberry

Thank you pink berries
wherever you are
for I now know
the true meaning
of fresh toppings

I have an excuse
to throw glistening
fruits on
mochi and cereal crumbs
all reminding me

desserts are healthy
in more way than one

Poem 23 Saturday in Solitude

I am all matching
Blue
Blue
Blue
Blue

The roommates are all out
to catch sunshine
and picnic dates
The boyfriend is across the country

The only being who will glance me
is the sun through my window
two hours ago he winked through
the left side of the crinkled curtains
now he sneaks another peak through the right

Only two options present to me
as I wiggle my toes past breakfast
Carrot cake or rainbow sprinkle batter
Just a bite of both
...another bite of both
okay, both and a glass of milk

I balance a shell on my nose
And kiss it as it steps down
off my lips
I lay still as it rests on my neck
And remain this way for countless hours
Devouring the day in bliss

Poem 22 dead train

In deep night
In deep brooklyn
When no one is around
And the train rolls in the station
It always comes in slow
With shrill screeches of the brakes
One never sees the train's driver
As the train comes toward you on the platform

Green and brown grime cake every step
Sewer water drips along the walls
Rats scatter beneath the tracks
And just before the first car comes
To where I stand
For a moment I'm always sure
That the subway will be filled
With the dead

Train cars and train cars full
of unattached arms
bodies still wriggling
heads rolling on the plastic seats
legs being slammed into poles
open eyes
eyes still blinking
searching for the last of me
the dead all turn to face
me and then they hold very still
waiting for the doors to slide open
watching me whether I'll run

I don't run
because I know it is pointless
the cars have come to a halt
the doors have opened
and I walk in willingly