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I was featured on Annmarie Lockhart’s fantabulous poetry site, vox poetica, yesteray. http://poemblog.voxpoetica.com/ (a divination was the poem).
Thanks, Annmarie for the shout out.
I awoke to screaming lips
a sigh beyond
with an image in mind
blood plastered image on my mind
blood splattered image on my mind
caught up in the stream
the streamers I made as a 10-year-old
still hanging from the rec room ceiling where my father tacked them
a long ago place
and now a new place
that takes me back to when I was 21 and how much I couldn’t enjoy my life then
The punchline wasn’t the real punchline
Or at least it wasn’t funny
Like most things
It’s what comes after the punchline that matters most
this has been the year of guilt
last year was the year of reckoning
I go through cycles like the Chinese horoscopes
I’m a horse
I’m also a goat/fish tail in the regular astrological wheel
I never liked goats
I’m also depressed/manic-but-not-in-a-Patty-Duke-sort-of way
I’m moving and surprisingly it doesn’t hurt.
I have distractions from my distractions.
I’ll do anything to make you smile
is not going to replace
I have no affection for you
heartfelt, the latter wins out.
he is no rock star
in accordance with tradition
he wears plaid golf pants up to here
a yellow shirt always with crisscross suspenders
he does not actually golf
he is no ladies man, either
his deep wrinkles sag
he looks younger than Larry King
whether that’s true or not is of no consequence to him
but the little old ladies across the street want to know
just in case he might be a younger man
with all of the perks of younger men
more energy, more sex drive
and with a body like his, how could anyone blame the ancient biddies
creaming their panties in anticipation for his arrival
they drew blood, sure enough
soliciting my veins
as if touched by a dirty homeless person
the thread of string
winced and jumped back
trying to avoid the inevitable
me got last night
seven inches and a slight chip more
old man winter speaks
me tells ‘im to shut it
me clutches his neck and throws him all asea
seven inches last night
me thinks I shall have seven more tonight
*Tel wrote a brilliant poem posted in the comments section of my poem, “Goodbye, Lincoln Nebraska” that I thought was too cool not to share. Thanks to Tel for being a good sport and an even better writer.*
Goodbye, Paducah Kentucky
with your run down buildings
lining a boring riverside.
When the floodwaters come,
even the dead try to hitch a ride
out of town.
Please visit Tel’s site for more fun and hijinks…or for just plain good writing. http://telmcg.wordpress.com/
I’m not sure anyone will necessarily think this is funny but it amused me. If you want a good time, go back to your old emails and read them. Share them.
MEMO: It has come to my attention that some members of this staff feel that it is professional to wear denim garments below their waists. This behavior must come to an abrupt stop. It is counterproductive and sends the wrong message to the childrens. If I catch any of you wearing these denim garments, I shall strip you then and there and let you feel my power.
On Tragedy (a Haiku)
Weed in a taco
Broken swings, asses, and dreams
Satan’s spawn inside
(Bryan’s poem to my/our then-boyfriend (who was in the Air Force but is not Air Force John, this guy was just a “Luke”), who later left the country without telling me/us)
How I want to fly with you,
to say your name with a heavy “K” sound
resonating in my throat long after
I am air sick
from this quick
*An email exchange between Bryan and me concerning the matter of a straight man.* Please note, we are usually completely off the mark about straight men but we have conversations like this all the time.
From MedicatedLady to Bryan: What a crybaby Air Force John is. Seriously. If he’s blowing me off, he is doing it in the strangest of ways. I am honestly perplexed. It’s probably just coming down to I’m not giving him the nookie. He’s friendly enough and kept the conversation going for hours (texting of course). He invited me to cuddle. I considered it. I said, really? He said yes. He says, I’m going to bed (he said this before as a way to get me to hurry up and come over). So I say, So are you saying I’ve missed you or to get trucking? And then he says, no, you can come cuddle w/ me. And I paused for a moment and said okay. Then I brushed my hair for him. And then I text, will see you in a few minutes. And then he says, can we reschedule? And I say, ouch, but okay. He says he’s been up since 5 and is tipsy. I say, okay. 10 minutes later. He says, I don’t want to offend you. I say, it’s all good. 20 minutes later. He says, I’m afraid I will make a move. I say, moves aren’t necessarily bad things but it just depends if you can be swatted away when it’s time to cool it. So he says, Nope (smiley face) and I say, well then there you go. 10 minutes later. He says, I’m in my underwear. I say, Um…good? He says, yeah. I say, well, underneath my pjs I’m wearing underwear too. End conversation.
Bryan’s response/translation: I think he was horny, and then he wanted sex, and he invited you over, and then he felt guilty, and then he was horny again, and then he just masturbated.
The first draft is the only one that matters
Raw is reality
Refined is bullshit
Or so I say
At times when I am being difficult.
At times when I am being difficult
Refined is bullshit
Raw is reality
The first draft is the only one that matters.