#13: Rain (rain rain rain all day long)

A dance on the garden for three days

rain you are my Rubix cube of night

tell me once again why, on facebook,

your relationship status says single

when my eyes married the sky and

your blackened clouds. I expect,

in the middle of August, you'll

be gone--flightless fox of April.

Let light carry you away moreso than

sour memories of no-fun Sundays; let light

break you apart like exhalations

#12: Rhyme (this was a lame-o rhyme...)

Last night she Topeka

Tonight she'll tell her secret.

#10

Knowing full well that the earth, lizard crawling

on a tilted axis,

would spin upon the sight of her

would that the earth would spin at the sight of her.

She controls the pits of him

the riptides and pools of him

the entrails of him the trails of him

how they blink, would that they'd blink

and set wind lauding the bricks and windows

of city buildings, wings that spin circles

City of spinning circles, would that you

Would, in light of love, int he light

And love would contest not

of its amber vision again,

that is to say, its amber vision is the power

that fills the canyon river and paints it amber.

II (#9, written by people on the street who were kind enough to write something, and a little weirdness at the end)

I would like a life

full of Love

full of expectations, dreams

and hope above all

with trees, rivers, dogs and rain

In a world with trials and tribulations

I find myself searching

Looking for an answer

There once was a girl

who had the whole world.

My most favorite never

have what elephant

Butt: big crazy asophagus

Cherryblossoms, see.

#8: Observations & Anomalies (written at 826DC)

There's a musk ox on the crate!

Parasaurolophus--is anything more unnatural?
Free popcorn--brought to you by Jesus.

Laugh Out Loud: tiny dog, purple leash.

Colest day in April and eating raisin bran.

Do I jog or bike on a Saturday?
Speak Spanish, man, or take a walk; something!

That's my favorite song: Something, Something I Love You.

I don't have anything: bobcat. I don't have anything.

Poem #7: The Charlie Sheen Poem

Mother, I am full of Tiger Blood.

Get me two cigarettes: I've already

smoked the first so you might

as well get three. Have you heard

from the elders, they've found new

boysenberries, each tattoing a name

onto their shrivelled skin: mine.

Lover, find anything other than

wonder, you won't find it.

Bone-Flower Elegy (After Mary Jo Bang & Robert Hayden)

(This one's dedicated to my Aunt Riv & Uncle Josh)

As him, in the dream, as her

as art is constant yet the destructor

of my wrists, I hold this:

I can't even remove my glasses without

not seeing, and that was what

I wished tubes were all we knew

brush past beds as lolling heads

whirred and clucked and snacked on

death crackers, dry and thin.

When I think harder, will you be there,

and what was worse back then

was thinking hard that you both in separate

coffins were not. Eyes dilate faster

what with the drops is the garden

blooming yet, reach to me your hands, I will check

Poem #4, Response

(I forget why I said this was a response...but)

On through an eighty degree night, fact

of warming in the midst of cold April

breeze is blankets, though the sinus headache

and twinging uscles annunciate in my skin

felt hats felt in winter are for tomorrow

newspaper rolls across the street; heat

but the dark of it inside the new

flowers make spring finally here, as if it were

fall but with white instead of fire

Guac (A Found Poem)

(Here, I took pieces of conversation while at a friend's house) (Each line should be cascading...unfortunately, blogger can't do that)

That's a lot of pressure

peanut

hospital

About Ocean City

that one

that was intense lightening

We can wash off the porch

We'll split it three way

Wasteland

I should tell her to clip out

I should tell her to clip out

She's not clipping out

There used to be so much:

He abuses strange materials

You think they'd keep that for next year

So this isn't a documentary.

So this is a documentary.

Poem #2: Three Short Poems at Qualia Coffee

(Here I took lines from old poems that I didn't much like...and took the best lines and added some others)

Whistling through your picturing and finding naught

thou picture, beside

figuring, knit caps, glasses

bees, love, bees.

~

Janis Joplin has a way of crooning to the beads

hung by the sandalwood candles

O Janis, mine own candle

is not sandalwood--I got it at the factory outlet

it smells vaguely of the hanging gardens.

~

I am following the red ribbon attached to my journal

belittle rain fills it up

here is my coffee, I meditate over the cup

30 Poems in 30 Days Challenge!!!

Hi folks, I'm participating in 30 Poems in 30 Days, as part of National Poetry Month! Yay!!! It's a great time to experiment, and have some fun, or be serious and not have fun (but really have fun).

Here's poem #1:

Will you be the ruiner of my objects, climb down my runny eggs

and lay flat on the tongue bedding

with the book of poetry

I am dropped and thump--

dizziness is a towel I wished

upon and get all the time.

Lucky you, jackets hanging on my chair--all you do is be brown

and corduroy and nestle in the corner. Luck you,

vines creeping out of the shelves,

lucky you orange twice bitten,

twice juiced and picked up,

luck you, ruiner of objects, vacuum-er of pens.

Creator and destroyer, where have you been?