Today, with spring still peeking shyly around the corner, we have a poem about a little bit of winter hanging on. The is from Frank Hubeny (his site is here). Check out the March 2017 Open Mic Page for a link to his poem and to listen to the other great voices from this month,.
Tag: write
iron heart (20170316)
your name catches in my throat
i try to say it under my breath
but i have no lungs–you’ve withered
those organs with the aversion
of your eyes
make no mistake–i have felt my heart
stop beating, felt the sudden lump
of inert iron sitting lifeless
in my chest, as cold as the furthest
edge of space
a watched pot never boils
but an unwatched pot bursts into flames
my fingerprints are invisible ashes
and i have left them on your
skin like doomed freckles
will you let it go on Open Mic
Pleasant Street posted the words to this poem the other day (you need to follow her site) and it struck a chord with me so I asked her to record it.
You’re lucky, because she said yes, and here it is, on the March 2017 Open Mic Page.
You can appear here, too. Read the details on the page and submit away.
almost quitting time (20170315)
air conditioner hums
makes a melody
in the silence
on the tongue
not bitter so much as
unsatisfyingly bland
aftertaste of being
in an almost empty office
no getting over
that first goodbye
of the day
last rides (20170314)
one of those here-today-gone-tomorrow
carnivals, set up on the green lawn
right next to the rec center
never let anyone tell you carnies
don’t know how to market themselves
small affair, few rides, few games
a couple of food booths
long before everything was deep fried
lucky if they have hot dogs or nachos
with cheese sauce from those industrial-sized
barrels like it had been sucked out
of the earth
one ride makes me realize
i will never go to space
the hammers
twin metal cages on long
pole arms
on either side of a column
thrown together from
some kind of adult erector set
they rotate
spin toward each other
probably so you could wave
at the idiots in the other cage
I didn’t have time to wave or
even look at anyone else
all i felt was g force
quarters flying out of my pockets
bouncing like meteors pinging
and ricocheting off the metal grills
it’s the first ride i’ve
ever just wanted to stop
just
stop
with empty pockets, i stagger out
of the little metal box
and my stomach wants to empty out
and i can’t even look up
at the stars i will never fly to
because the vertigo spins the ground
like an lp around the axis
of my feet
——
for
dVerse ~ Poets Pub
Poetics: Amuse me! Take me for a ride!
in the spring (20170313)
no gentle spring rains
from the wretched grandfather clock
just the constant hunger for winding
we feed it tension and time
it belches chimes gears and fears
that reek of aftershave
brought tears to my eyes
an empty chair
a thousand sour, empty threats
——
the ethics of video games (20170312)
i don’t care for squirrels
–i know this about myself–
and i know i should probably
feel bad every time
a coyote or a yellow-eyed hawk
gets one for dinner
but that’s nature
one less squirrel
means one less marauder
of my peaches
–i do feel bad for the little
bastards when they get hit
by cars
(but i hate people
(especially drivers
(especially any driver
in front of me)))–
and i can’t explain why
even in a game
i feel guilty about
hunting a fox
because i would never do that
in my real life
and i know it’s not even real
but i hear the barks
and i think
–that’s a sin–
Scarecrow Pretends on Open Mic
Robert Okaji, who is peerless in my opinion, has contributed a reading. You can find it on the March 2017 Open Mic Page.
If you want to read some poetry that makes you say, “I wish I wrote that,” be sure to visit his site.
scent (20170311)
i want to smell you on my clothes
when i’m driving to work
still have the taste of you
in my mouth
on my mouth
so that when i am stuck at my screen
i can take a deep breath
and you will be standing there
next to me
Benefit of a Friend on Open Mic
Pleasant Street (her blog is here) is first up at the mic. Take a listen on the March Open Mic Page.
And then submit your own. SUBMIT! I command you!
Words and Feathers 