Conspicuous Christians

 

The conspicuous Christians

fill 4 booths and keep the waitress hopping.

12 adults

5 young children needing highchairs in the aisle

17 orders, all different

5 special requests

2 plates sent back

1 spilled coffee

separate checks. please.

After an hour, they leave

dishes, napkins, crayons, sticky syrup spots,

and

1 tract

with

2 crisp 1 dollar bills tucked neatly inside. 

_____

Dreams of Shiva

 

There is a thing I wanted so much--

a thing always denied.

The evil and the angelic made a pact

and placed this desire in my heart

like a ticket hidden in a boot

worn by someone desperate in a station.

I tell people this desire is over--

that I visit its grave on holy days

to leave woven weeds,

but there is no grave because it is not dead--

only paralyzed like an aster when there is no wind,

no sun, no moon, no garden.

There is someone coming up the stairs

to hurt my heart, and they are so lit with beauty,

such an ordinary marvel.

The hallway floor is wood, the light there yellow in autumn.

It is morning, but the birds are mute.

My heart stops, the visitor walks past, the world ends,

but no one notices. There is no fool like an old fool,

no desire that cannot exalt or destroy,

over and over, in silence, like Shiva in a recurring dream. 

______

Detroit

The muscle cars have aged out

of high school hamburger stands

and live in landfills

or junkyards

but some survive.

The codger across the street in the end house

keeps his in pristine condition,

replacing its parts, babying its body

in ways he can't do for himself.

I see him rolling out down the street,

into youth,

joy,

music,

health,

until he rounds the corner

and disappears.

_____

Oriental Bittersweet

Oriental Bittersweet

her arms full of swans

never meant, no really never

meant you any harm.

Oriental Bittersweet

cuts her body with a blade

and never sees, no never really

sees the mess she's made.

Oriental Bittersweet

has horse blanket hair--

blacktop eyes and blackstrap tongue

and promises she cares.

Oriental Bittersweet

knows EMT's by name--

she'll take you with her, with her taken

here she comes again.

______

At 23 (for Bob Green--not the famous one)

Our mutual friend

had told you

how I used to be Queen of a very small tribe.

"It seems almost..." I said, hesitating.

"Like it really happened?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"It did happen, but now

things are so different that it seems

ridiculous."

I sat there,

shot full of arrows like Saint Sebastian--

like him, not dying

but split and empty like a dead pew.

There are more gospels than they let on, you know.

This man loaned me two records--

Joni Mitchell

and It's a Beautiful Day.

Like poetry, it was love for life for me--

Hot Summer Day and Sweet Fire.

I left Illinois not long after

to Gypsy it in a small car with two teachers

off for the summer.

We read Richard Brautigan,

and wandered the bars in New Orleans, then Galveston

where I left both my crown and my grave in a coin laundry

on a Sunday morning.

______

Ooga Booga

 

Ooga booga, darling.

It's me, sunflower face

the fox-hearted misdirected letter of your dreams.

I live in the space between the walls.

I play Candyland with brain-injured devils

for a pot of chilly blue dawns.

I raid your fridge while you dream of dolphins.

I tip-toe around your place, judging the art,

boiling the pasta, making a mess.

That's me saying, "love me" from the heat vents.

That's my voice on the tv during your ballgame,

making you fuck with the settings.

Give in, please. I haven't got all day.

Once, I was an Egyptian queen.

Once, I was a Dutch laundress.

Now I live inside your Jiffy-Pop, getting hot, expanding suddenly.

It's me, sunflower face,

the fox-hearted misdirected letter of your dreams.

You'll wake up in love with me.

You'll wake up as a black horse wearing a feather plume.

You'll wake up to find me in bed next to you, staring.

I've put my stamp, my kiss, my spell on you.

Easy, my high stepping Friesian, shh shh...

It's all right, I'm a specter and I've got the cure

for all your missteps, I'm an oval track, fresh spring clover,

a pinch of salt, and a lot of black cat. 

______

Word Garden Word List--Anna Karenina

 

Hello my little Russian dolls! This week our source is Leo Tolstoy's "Anna Karenina." I read it some years ago and despite the long tangents into agrarian issues of the 19th century, it remains one of the most memorable novels that I have ever read. If only Tolstoy, Hugo, and Dickens would have had Max Perkins for an editor! 

Max Perkins

What we do here is to use at least 3 of the 20 words provided in a new, original poem of our own. Then simply link up, avoid railroads, and wear a big hat with feathers in splendorous style. This List remains active through next Saturday.

Note: It won't come as news that poetry blogging is on life support, if not death watch. This blog will always be here and will always feature every new poem that I write. However, I am done doing prompts, and don't think I will continue the List anymore after this week. I appreciate everyone who has participated and who has had kind words to say about my efforts in assembling it for you each week. My poetic energy is now focused HERE. You can find my personal page HERE.  

And now, your List:

betrayal 

clasp

collapse

drift

echo

exile

frost

habit

hunger

hush

icon

lantern

longing

orchard

railway

steam

threshold

varnish

velvet

whisper

Pony For Dray Horse

 If milkmaids dance,

I haven't seen it.

That doesn't mean it doesn't happen

when I'm asleep

or dying.

If apples can be poisoned

I haven't tasted one.

That doesn't mean to trust your grocer,

lover,

or restauranteur.

Oh you, decked in white blossoms like some ironic saint,

evangelizing my arms, my tongue, my will

like the loving dead.

I know now that I was kissing a corpse--

one heart beating for two,

pony for dray horse, dragging along.

I can't swear that I'll be smarter next time,

but I mean to be.

I'll remember your face, your ways, your smile,

turn my head like a lady

and spit.

_______

Note: I will be participating less in poetry blogdom, though I will still post my poems here, and continue the Word List. I am mostly HERE now. 

Shanty

 

I had a planet,

just a little one

but still.

it had activities--

recreational

illicit

volcanic.

from a promontory above one of its seas,

I pondered what to do with a drunken sailor

early in the morning.

I had to rent out my little planet

due to the commute.

Years passed. 

When I returned and saw

what the renters had done,

I brought the flood in my righteous anger.

Things are better now,

lo these many months gone by.

I have a koi pond with native goldfish.

I sleep in until lazy o'clock

or until the stars wheel above my gingerbread cottage.

The sailor got sober, survived the flood,

and sings, "Weigh-hay and up she rises" 

when I stir

both my happy ass,

and the coffee he has kindly fixed

the way he knows I like it.

I have a planet,

just a little one

but still.

________

for What's Going On? -- "In Uncertain Times"

Music: Johathan Edwards "Shanty"

Philomela of the Bungalows

 

I feel forsaken

like a rolled newspaper in the rain.

Is that You? in the window box?

Is that You? magnificent in a woken engine?

I don't mean to be sullen,

a crushed flower with a brave yellow bloom--

I'm a vine growing in through the window

of your abandoned holy room.

Oh honey. My fingers flat upon

your smooth chest made of smoke,

I am rain falling ever further from her cloud.

Call me back---use your voice of spade-shaped leaves.

I will come, across the lawns and waters

to kneel at your feet

and sing.

__________

for Word Garden Word List--D.H.Lawrence

Music: John Waite "Missing You"

Word Garden Word List--D.H Lawrence

 

D.H.Lawrence

Hello my little Listies, and welcome to this week's Word List poetry prompt! When I was a young adult, I read D.H.Lawrence's "Lady Chatterly's Lover" and was absolutely blown away by it. (I mentioned this when we had Alison MacLeod's "Tenderness" as our source not long ago.) Now I am re-reading it but am not finished with it yet, so I culled this week's List from two short stories by Lawrence: "The Prussian Officer" and "Odour of Chrysanthemums." 

What we do here is to use at least 3 of the 20 words provided in a new, original poem of our own. Then simply link up, visit others as you are able, and then settle down on the verandah with a volume of Lawrence! 

And now, your List!

apron

ashes

bruises

cinder

clutched

forsaken

march

engine

orderly

primroses

pulse

shadow

smoke

spasms

stagnant

sullen

tremor

vine

whistle 

winding

Some Wore Armor

 

Some wore armor,

those freshbread women

with plums for eyes.

The River God said,

a lot of good it will do you,

then sank down

into a water lily dream.

One went to him

holding a blade made of summer.

Some say he married her

but she never came back to say.

Some wore bracelets

made of fall leaves and owl call

with sorrows lined together like dolls.

The River God said,

one is wise, five are deceitful

and none can sing, or love.

Then the water iced over until spring.

The women went to the silent edge

bearing a robe made of crows and rushes

but when he didn't appear, then or at any other time,

they gave the robe to the morning.

Some wore armor,

but most wore willows.

They were freshbread women

with plums for eyes. 

_____

I Am a Human

 I am a human

raised by a robot

cut loose in the garden

carried on the water

carried on the water

cared for by the winter

and my mind--that's ice

nice nice very nice.

nice nice very nice

making poetry from paper birds

and a magpie in flight

under a fragrant sun

under a fragrant sun

cut loose in a garden grove

where the robot rusts, in time we trust

carried on the water like the rest.

________

for What's Going On? BEING HUMAN

one line is taken from the Ambrosia song.

they stole it from Kurt Vonnegut.

Diuretics

 I fell in love with your shadow

and lay on the floor with it while you slept.

We had an affair, your shadow and I

while you made mine visit your parents in Buffalo.

I became contemptuous of you there in bed

reading your stupid pop novels.

You became contemptuous of me on the floor

claiming a headache for the thousandth night in a row.

After the divorce, we sat at outdoor tables with friends

who nodded while we droned and overshared,

laughing, shaking our papier mâché heads, sucking down coffee

as the sun went right through us to the sidewalk, bright af. 

Casa Tiger

 

Every movie can be improved by adding a hungry tiger into it--

a bullet-proof tiger who can talk, but

only speaks in aphorisms and maxims.

The tiger's voice should sound like broad green leaves 

and love language.

High Noon with Gary Cooper, bad guys, and a bullet-proof tiger.

Citizen Kane with a talking tiger on a sled.

Casablanca with a tiger behind the bar, saying,

"Love is like the stripes of a zebra; 

bright and dark touching but still apart and always moving."

Real life could be enhanced as well. 

The tiger could eat people who don't allow their dogs upstairs,

who cut in line, and who take duckface selfies.

"An apple a day keeps the doctor away!"

the tiger would say while standing over their bones,

full with both flesh and satisfaction.

You could come over.

We can watch movies--with tigers in them!--

spouting maxims and bromides,

wrestling feverishly with each other and with the notion

of tigers knowing anything about zebras or hearts

except that they are foolish things

made of meat

and consumable.

____

for Shay's Word Garden Word List--Incidents Around the House

Word Garden Word List--Incidents Around the House

 

Hello my little alternate versions! I spent the previous two days whipping through Incidents Around the House  by Josh Malerman. Malerman is the author of a number of books, including Bird Box.  My feverish two-day page flipping extravaganza speaks either to my slothful indolence or the masterful job Malerman did on this fantastic horror novel.

Josh Malerman

Incidents  is told by an eight year old girl named Bela. In her closet there is a creature called "Other Mommy." Other Mommy asks if Bela will let her into her heart. Otherwise, she might become mean. Dear reader, I would advise taking her at her word!  For me, this novel ranks right up there with The Exorcist, The Shining, The Amityville Horror and Ghost Eaters. If a continuous sense of dread interrupted at intervals by sheer chaotic terror is your cup of tea, then this is your book!

What we do here is to use at least 3 of the 20 words provided in a new, original poem of our own. Then simply link up, visit others as you are able, and then check your bedroom closet to make sure there isn't an incredibly creepy thing  hiding inside. This prompt remains active through next Saturday.

And now, your List:

carnations

closet

creaking

dancing

dogs

fur

heart

innocence

lamp

movie

neighbor

nerve

pretended

sleep

smell

tiger

trying

upstairs

voice

wind

Third Marriage, Seaside.

 

Go down to the greenhouse and gather the blooms,

then scatter them all in separate rooms--

the rose on the grate of the fireplace cold

to lie there and die there as we grow old.

The arrangements are odd and enigmatic,

the occupants frail and most asthmatic

afflicted with allergies, fear and despair

made worse by the stale and fetid air.

Though we gasp our devotion like fish in a boat

and confess our passion by rite and rote,

we're as blinkered as babes, as clear as bells

as we rise from the drink on our half-assed shells.

_________

for Word Garden Word List--First Love

Word Garden Word List--First Love

 

Hello my lovestruck lovelies, and welcome to this week's edition of The Word List! Long ago when I was not yet the crumbling ruin you see before you today, I found a copy of FOUR GREAT RUSSIAN SHORT NOVELS  in a used bookstore, and that little paperback has traveled with me through the decades ever since. The four stories are: Turgenev "First Love", Dostoyevsky "The Gambler", Tolstoy "Master & Man", and Chekhov "The Duel." It is the first one that concerns us here today.

My copy looks like this.

"First Love" hit me right in the heart when I first read it, and I have re-read it twice since then, but not recently. These days, "The Gambler" and especially "The Duel" hit closer to home, but in my young years it was "First Love" all the way. 

A wild and crazy guy.

Turgenev is known for the novel "Fathers and Sons" and the play "A Month in the Country." Our story for the List was published in 1860.

What we do here is to use at least 3 of the 20 words provided in a new, original poem of our own. Then simply link up, visit others as you are able, and then become fascinated with someone charming. This prompt remains active through next Saturday.

And now, your List:

amazing

bell

brickwork

confess

crowds

darkness

describe

enigmatic

fear

fence

fits

garden

greenhouse

honey

intensely

joyful

pale

queen

simply

teeth

Two Sharks

 

I have two sharks inside me

swimming in tandem and holding my heart

between them like a little family 

walking in the dark.

I send them gulps of air from outside

as if I were some sort of oxygenated charity

with a face and feet, operating in the world

on their behalf like a proxy or prosthetic.

Oh fishies, confined and angry in the bowl of my ribs,

here come those old blues again.

Why does life go on so long, demand so much,

slowly dribbling out the cracked glass of years?

I have had ideas all along, fine ideas

to open a ministry in a dumpster,

a ballroom in an attic, a cemetery 

on a space station with the whole Earth for Ouija board.

I'm scared, fishies. Will the moon call you

and will you answer her tidal madrigal?

Will she require three voices, you and my heart?

Will you rise in glory, leaving me hollow, in salt and sorrow?

_________________

for Word Garden Word List--How To Sell a Haunted House

Word Garden Word List--How To Sell a Haunted House

 

Hello my little puppeteers and welcome to this week's Word List poetry prompt! I recently finished a novel by Grady Hendrix entitled How To Sell a Haunted House, and I loved it.

It's about a brother and sister whose parents have both died in a traffic accident, leaving them to sell the family home. The trouble is, there's a haunted puppet named Pupkin in there. He's very charming unless he's turning you into his zombie slave or trying to kill you. Trouble is, he's almost always trying to do either or both. 

Grady Hendrix

The novel is half family dynamics and half horror, with a liberal dash of humor as well. I can't stop thinking about it. Hmm, could it be Pupkin taking over my mind???

What we do here is to use at least 3 of the 20 words provided in a new, original poem of our own. Then simply link up, visit others as you are able, and then be sure that new house of yours is really, actually vacant before you move in! This prompt remains active through next Saturday.

And now, your List:

attic

bright

clown

cousins

dolls

dumpster

friends

hammer

haunted

jealous

jumbled

ministry

moon

puppet

remote

safe

scared

snotty

squirrels

thirsty