dog–my companion
gutter full of stilled water
we race with the moon
Tag: poetry
workin’ it (20170207)
i fight to keep my eyes open
though some mornings
i fight to keep them closed
how bored do you have to be
to want to take a sales call
and only avoid it because
you don’t want to disappoint
the caller?
this overcast weather must have
something to do with it
i almost wrote a poem
about the sunday chicken dinners
from my childhood
and realized
that sounded familiar
and looked it up
damned if i hadn’t
already covered the subject
down to the smell
of wet bird
and stray feathers
in the roasted skin
i wonder if my brother
missed them because he
was in a hurry
missed them because he
didn’t care
missed them because he
was already smoking dope
every poet repeats
we’re broken records
does anyone understand
that metaphor anymore?
when you say that
do people think only of runners
shaving off a tenth of a second?
someone walks by and laughs
and i can’t decide if i should
be happy they have something
to laugh about or put my face
through my monitor
someone’s phone rings
the cubicles are open
and all our ringtones identical
i look to see
if it is my phone
it isn’t
organic compounds (20170206)
the spider i rescued from
the bathtub drain
lives now under my skin
she spins and sings a song
that only i can hear
her song is a vibrating wire
my blood is silk
i eat my wife and children
with a knife and fork
so i can call myself civilized
but i am an amateur
though earnest
and i clean up after myself
my blood is water
my blood is venom
my blood is water
in-out (20170205)
it’s getting crowded in here again
not the people
not the obligations
but all that breathing
that sucking up the air
how will there be enough
for all of us
and by us i mean
me and the cat
who sleeps curled in my lap
making my thighs sweat
with black and white heat
the tension in my shoulders
in my neck
a block of iron
i won’t need a supplement
for that but
maybe they make little air pills
oxygen bars used to be
a mockable thing
christ, whatever modern music
they’re playing on the radio
sounds like a cross between
west side story
and a kabuki play
and it’s squeezing my lungs
like a manic accordion player
i will plug my ears
and open the window
i will share the air
sharing is caring
or so the dinosaurs said
and who am i to disagree
with the former rulers
of the earth?
February 2017 Open Mic
Holy mac and cheese, January is already over. Only eleven months left in this year, am I right?
It’s time again to oil up those golden vocal cords and made some poetical noises. Just look at the easy to follow guidelines below.
I’m waiting for you!
The Skinny:
- Record yourself reading one of your own works.
- Post it on your site.
- Include a link to this site in your post.
OR Comment on that month’s call for entries
OR send me a message using the contact form. - I will post a link with your name and poem title RIGHT HERE.
- It’s an open mic invitation. NOT a challenge.
Some tips:
- Go simple.
I record using my iPhone, then email/share the file with myself. I very rarely edit it, unless I really waited too long to start talking. - Want better quality?
You can get a relatively inexpensive mic on Amazon that you can hook up to your computer. Some of there come with editing software. If I do edit, I use Audacity on the Mac. It’s free and pretty easy to use. There’s a version for Windows, too. - Hosting.
If you pay WordPress to host your site, you can add your audio by clicking on the Add Media button in the post editor. Have the free WordPress? You have options.All of the sites below will let you upload audio. Some will host for free up to a certain amount of storage. (I think with Youtube, you’ll have to upload a movie, but you can use a still image and add your poem.)
- Soundcloud
- Audioboom
- Youtube
- Questions?
Ask below or contact me using the contact form (up above). I’ll try to help you out! - And if you have any tips, feel free to share them!
February 2017
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Crumpled Paper Cranes such is her finesse
words: https://crumpledpapercranes.com/2016/08/23/such-is-her-finesse/
audio: https://soundcloud.com/cpcranes/such-is-her-finesse-a-poem?in=cpcranes/sets/poetry-by-cpcranes
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Rivrlogr Old Leaf New Leaf
words AND audio: https://rivrvlogr.wordpress.com/2017/02/06/old-leaf-new/
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Pleasant Street Lengthy Courtship
words: https://areyouthrilled.com/2017/02/08/lengthy-courtship/
audio:
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Poet Rummager (Rose) Fifty Words Story – Burn
words AND audio: https://poetrummager.com/2017/02/10/fifty-words-story-burn/
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crow sea beast
words: https://wordsandfeathers.com/2016/10/10/sea-beast-20161010/
audio:
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Pleasant Street Awake
words: https://areyouthrilled.com/2017/02/15/awake/
audio:
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Robert Okaji Letter from Kansas
words: https://silverbirchpress.wordpress.com/2017/01/13/letter-from-kansas-poem-by-robert-okaji-me-at-17-poetry-and-prose-series/
audio:
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Jim Feeney Auto
words AND audio: https://stopdraggingthepanda.com/2016/12/17/auto/
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not enough heat, not enough pressure (20170204)
blacken your heart, dear
take those cold ashes
from the hearth, flames dead
like a field mouse in winter
blacken your heart, dear
mix the soot with tears
remember every slight
every gaze that passed over you
blacken your heart, dear
swallow that thick paste
wash it down with past shame
and feel it settle in your stomach
blacken your heart, dear
let that darkness spread
but remember this–not every
piece of coal becomes a diamond
chance of showers (20170203)
unbroken sky wall
without seams it leaks and weeps
to make a mirror
esprit accompli (20170202)
standing just beyond my door
and no one saw but me
moon-like face so ghostly pale
and eyes a dead white sea
skin of alabaster stone
her wild hair untamed
shrouded in her burial clothes
she bade me ask her name
jaw unlocked, i spoke her name
she nodded at me twice
turned to ash and then to air
for that was naming’s price
——
shadows are the ghosts of rainbows (20170201)
stand in one spot long enough
and you can watch
the passage of time
the shadow spinning
around the trunk of a tree
like a slow drunk
but what substance, shadow
what substance
only this
–the chill of stepping into you,
–the graying of colors,
–the long dead dust of the sun
settling on your shoulders
and drying you out
blind sculpting the blind (20170131)
tonight i sculpted a back
not life-sized
–maybe three-quarter–
and somehow
i got it not quite right
the back was receding
as if just then turned away
and headed off to parts
unknowable
insert remark about
having seen enough backs
in that position
engaged in that act
of abandonment
that i should have been
able to push that clay around
blind
Words and Feathers 