floating and leaving no trace
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
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?
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!
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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/
******
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
unbroken sky wall
without seams it leaks and weeps
to make a mirror
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
——
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
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
we await the turning of the earth
pretending we turn it
beneath our feet
but that which is shifting
is inside us
a tidal force within
the pit of our stomachs
guiding our sleepy eyes
toward the horizon
and the first light
of dawn
i noticed the skin
on the side of my left hand
below the smallest finger
at the joint of the wrist
and thought
what old man is that
attached to
as it typed
at my keyboard
veins like a relief map
made of flour, salt, and water
Words and Feathers 