#5 was lame, so I didn't post it.
My knees and hips curve inward
when I stand up straight;
my body has been trying to hug itself like this
since I was eight years old
but this self-love is slowly crippling me.
I need to re-align myself,
keep standing all twisted out
so I can learn
how to be correct.
3/30 Secured Transactions Poem I
Skim your bank account:
trace the lines of your money.
Mark on the doorjamb
how it has grown!
Hold all your transactions to your breast, rock them
and secure them;
know what is yours
and how to take it.
If you are giving away interests
whisper in their ears as they leave;
tell them that you love them
and hope they come back
sound and whole.
Promise them you will not default.
is a dirty word on their sheets;
tell them you'll be solvent for them.
Tell them even if you end up with
after-acquired interests or proceeds
it won't make you love them any less.
[Also up on facebook in the Portland Poetry Month '12 group. Go check it out, there's some amazing stuff being posted there every day all month!]
I always picture
a giant crank
churning out words
wet and slippery, like pasta,
ready to chew.
It's April, a month with 30 days (and National Poetry Month), which means only one thing; a 30/30!
That means 30 poems in 30 days, posted and tagged.
Yes, today is April 1st.
Yes, I wrote a poem today. But I'm not going to post it, because it's going to be a slam piece and I want y'all to hear it before you read it.
But there will be 29 more poems and you'll hear this one at the Portland Poetry Slam sooner or later, so stay tuned to this same batty channel.
since I'm numbed
is just vibrations in my brain.
When the saw stops
I ask the cliché;
“There's still tooth there, right?”
“Yup. We're just getting all the nooks and crannies.”
She smiles in her mask.
“Oh,” I said,
“So my teeth are like English Muffins?”
Hygienist nods wisely.
“Never heard that one before.”
Sometimes I hear a click in my brain when I walk
not just hear it, I feel it, a click click ticking,
like step click step click step click tick tick tick
like there is a bomb in my brain.
Like something inside me
is counting down to an explosion.
I clench my jaw I tip my head--
only temporary relief.
I have not click
put out the fuse
just silenced it
Click click 'till I sit
then stand and walk and click!
I cannot run away from this.
I only hear it when I walk click
take a step click tick
like a dripping drain, leaking faucet,
drip drip drip
until my brain (click click)
weeps and swells and cracks open like a smile,
all jagged skull-bits
and a blinking beeping
click click still ticking down.
I hear it click
at the apex of every step
when I walk click
always outside tick tick.
It's been happening click
more often click.
I used click tick
to be able to forget about it
for years at a time
but now it's click
almost always with me tick
every time I step outside click
like a habit
I don't recall picking up.
I click click
I don't just hear it I feel it click click tick inside me,
feels like a sound,
feels like record skip
it doesn't hurt click
no pain but fear.
Like a tongue clucking click
my clicking cranium
shows me hollow inside.
I cannot click
retreat to gray-matter fortress of solitude
follows me wherever I go
click whenever I walk click tick
no matter how hard I cover my ears and moan
click click click tick
the next step click.
The air under my shoe click
laughs at me tick
there is a bomb inside my brain
and knowing me click
I must assume it's click a dirty one
every step click
every foot click
every time click...
maybe you should all stand back.
Come at me in click
biohazard suits tick whiter than shame click
come at me click
with your Geiger counters
click click click
we have lots in click click common.
The Western States
were surveyed together.
O, those famous
Boys on horseback
along the ground.
expand and contract with temperature
and sink in swamps
and drag in rivers
and rise on hills
and fall in ditches.
But homestead for 5 years.
It's totally worth it.
Links of 7.92 inches.
80 chains in a mile.
Six miles squared
make a township,
the map's meridians.
So you think you know where you live now?
based on the curve of meridian lines
as they approach the poles.
I'm indecisive today (time spent with the tax code does that to me), so here's what I've got so far today:
Vignette 1: Kiss Taste
Breathe out when you kiss me.
I like the smell of you
and the taste of you
all at once.
Vignette 2: Newton's Third Law
Something is off today.
Or it's a reaction to the weather;
the opposite and equal payback
of sundrunk spring afternoons
taken out in sighs
under these clouds.
“chain-link fence” prompt:
Hand clutched skin bending
around metal wire
twisted and hung each on the other
as the hand curls, rubbing rust;
spread shoulder-width apart from its partner
with a person hanging off.
Her nose presses through one
Cheeks and lips
Taking steps back she lets eyes go hazy,
to try and see past this fence;
try to make it disappear.
Fill in her own gaps.
Prompt: “what should the ultimate poem be like”
The ultimate poem
should make you groan.
Should make you mmmmmoan
of words rightly chosen.
Should make your body feel sweaty
and your head dense, clouded,
wholly wandering in its words,
floating immersed in its images.
The ultimate poem
should have style, emotion, and truth.
The ultimate poem
is one remembered a lifetime
by its every reader.
I think I found my voice tonight.
Kneeling in front of my glowing screens,
shoring up my stomach with Smartfood
and my brain with poetry
somehow the words came out
the way they were always supposed to.
Something halfway between my radio voice
and the throaty way I sound when I'm sick.
I found my power tonight.
A way to break from canned cadence,
to never touch it again;
my voice will not moan and sigh and whine
high-pitched and keening
like other girls.
My voice breaking won't make your heart crack
like other girls.
My voice is low,
I found myself pushing past that.
I found myself owning
my mellow, dusky tone.
Here all words are in my range,
they vibrate in my lungs and chest.
Here I know I am centered in myself,
here I embrace that just like everything else
it is no different that I am different,
that I must find my own way.
But there's power in my growl
and I will open it out wide,
I will only grow bigger and bigger
until I can move a mind, a face, a tear
like they can.
I will expand my voice to fit my soul,
to fill every space between words with unanswered echo.
Bloom my arms wide to embrace my truth;
that I am husky like a man and I will use it to my advantage.
I will grab hold of my birthright and pull until I am confident and LOUD,
and you will remember me
exploding into ascendency
a voice to fill both this chamber and the ones in your heart.
Someday I might even sing.