Poem About a Dream, With Shifting Tense

 

I dreamed you were there again

like a delayed letter in the mailbox

twined with thorns, slick with lipstick.

There you were, at my doorway

on my farm where I have never laid eyes

or set foot, nor sat cross-legged in the wild-grown meadow.

You were with someone new.

I was with someone new.

They were both starting to see how things are. 

Your hair, you know, it's like a pillow on a bed

where I long to be. And me, I have the key that you can't find,

as clunky as a cow's bell, as broken as an old washer. 

The guy you were with had begun to see the 

sunset behind your October eyes; I've known your full dark.

I'm here but obscured from the wildflower partner beside me.

I'm getting a vibe, like pixelated messages from space,

that your man would like to be mine instead, and drop his

heavy bags on my rag rug. I think my partner has checked out silently.

So there we stand, in a now that never was,

in a place we never were, playing out a scene like breezy clouds.

I see blackbirds on the split-rail fence, dipping, calling,

and feel my heart break apart inside my chest like a broken door handle.

___________

for Word Garden Word List--The Jesus Cow

Music: Coldplay The Scientist

Word Garden Word List--The Jesus Cow

 

Hello my patient people! You have my apologies for being so late with this, especially since I skipped last week. Who knew retirement could be so jam-packed with activity???

Michael Perry

This week our source is Michael Perry's novel The Jesus Cow. Like the famous pieces of toast, a cow gives birth to a calf with the image of Jesus on its hide. You can imagine the brouhaha that ensues! 

Here, we make our own brouhaha by using at least 3 of the 20 words provided in a new original poem of our own. Then just link up, visit others, and ask the local bovines, "How now, brown cow?" It's Shakespeare!

Your List:

admitted

autopilot

babies

barn

cow

details

fireworks

fresh-baked

haters

implode

joys

mailbox

media

megaphoning

pixelated

regret

safe

silence

sniffed

snowblower

Wings & Anvils

 

September was vivid as a kiss

or a hard push back then--

one scarce, one common.

The smell of a new eraser, the pungent insistence

of a just-opened jar of paste, the grind of a sharpener,

or the sound of snubbed scissors cutting through 

construction paper--I remember them all.

I loved the school library with the soft edges

of books read a thousand times, the dark wooden

window frames, the rows of tables like boats at a marina.

September also meant doctor's waiting rooms,

the assault of hospital smells and rooms full of

us guilty damaged goons, our mothers' faces

as brittle as dropped plates. We're defectives and know it.

I remember. Here is my hat being thrown ahead,

out of sight, down the hall. Here is the boy touching his face

while staring at mine, afraid he might catch the ugly.

Here are the mimics, a circus of relentless clowns.

I remember all of it, though to look at me, you'd never know. 

That child rides on my shoulders and inside my mouth--

the one that could not make herself understood.

I was educated and the lessons were both wings and anvils,

the thorn in my flesh that God gave His stunned child.

________________-

for What's Going On?--"Education."

Image: The Broken Witness by MistiStudios, redbubble. 

Music: Morrissey November Spawned A Monster

Happy Labor Day!

 

Dear friends and Listies, I find that I am too busy with other projects today to do a List, but it will return next Monday. Happy Labor Day!

Your Angel

 In a curio shop you bought a small angel.

The first thing the two of you did was to eat each other's hearts,

Hospital or cemetery? I asked, wiping spatter off my sleeve.

We have a nest inside Danielle Steele's blastoma, you said.

Take us there. 

Little soft-spoken angel, my partner's darling

breaks playmate's noses when things don't go right. 

There is the law, and there is what is clearly sick and wrong.

The two of you swing on a blade between the two.

Brilliant Ideas, you get them by the bushelful.

Marriage, madness, ill-advised rambles, and your angel

smashing the crucifixes.

Yes, I tried setting her on fire but your tears put her out.

It is her nature to be unnatural. It is mine to try to survive.

Dawn breaks. The neighbor's rooster kills itself. The sun lists.

What about our family, you ask? I scream, I want a divorce!

You smile and it shatters the Hummels like a cheekbone.

_______________

Sylvia

 

The doorbell rang.

My pet rooster

George Washington Crower 

objected loudly.

Who's that knocking at my door

who's that knocking at my door

who's that knocking at my door

cried the ...  well, me at any rate. 

There, standing on tippy toes

trying to get a grip 

to climb in through the transom

was some dude.

I said hey there aardvark face,

monkey fingers 

jumpin' Jack trash Houdini,

what gives?

He say, I am here on behalf

of the half serious jolly jokers club

and we are having 

a half off sale. 

With that he tore off one shoe,

a trouser leg,

and one sleeve,

then bowed to the ring camera.

Straightening, he recited,

Who is Sylivia, what is she

that all our swains commend her?

I said that's cute, she is me, and all your swains can't mend her.

I am an antique,

an ancient wreck

a Hesperus on the rocks of bad poetry

but he climbed through the milk chute

quite dashing in his half-suit.

and won my favor with his drollery. 

______

for Word Garden Word List--Enter the Aardvark.

Music: Lazy Larry Barnacle Bill the Sailor

Word Garden Word List--Enter the Aardvark

 

Hello my oddball animals! Welcome to this week's Word List! Our source this time is a novel by Jessica Anthony, entitled Enter the Aardvark. The blurb says it is about a sexually confused political candidate who receives a taxidermied aardvark and must get rid of it before it ruins him. Yeah, I don't either, but it sounds fun. It was sitting here on my shelf waiting to be read and waits still.

However, it gets to provide words for our List! What we do here is to use at least 3 of the 20 words provided in a new original poem of our own. Then just link up, visit others, and then run for office and hope like heck that no one sends you a taxidermied aardvark that can sink your career! This prompt remains active through Sunday. 

And now, your List!

aardvark

antique

billionaire

chalky

doorbell

expects

glass

globe

joke

jolly

malaise

obediently

proceeds

sheepish

shellac

staffers

tedium

text

tippy toes

vapors

Soon

 

It's August and the cool spell is over.

Days heat up like love coming back

but you know this lover

and they be like that.

The walnut leaves look tired and dry

like an old washer woman's skin.

The tree's still lovely as the sun climbs high

but no May morning beauty again.

August and the flies on the screen

are in afternoon as crickets are to the summer moon.

I'm tired of tying my hair back and watching shadows lean;

let the smokey tang of autumn bring my first love back--soon!

______________

for What's Going On? ("August")

And don't forget that the Word List is still active through Sunday!

The Mournful Crow

 

Waterfall, Sierra Madre, Philippines

If you want to find God, you can go by rail

or catch a jeepney, repaired a thousand times

and driven by a madman with a rosary on the mirror.

Tell him you seek the Divine and be certain

that he does not misconstrue your meaning.

You go down General Luna street to the place

where the Moon and Mars both must bow

to the great glittering of the Creator's face.

When you arrive, look for the Indian Laurel tree

where a crow has come down the backbone

of the Sierra Madre to wait here for you.

He knows you have lost much, your child, your home. 

The Sierra Madre crow can offer only baubles,

still-warm bits of pan desal bread, and his wise mein.

He is here, like the church of San Agustin,

as mournful as the Christ, as wounded, as kind.

Go inside, where adobe bricks contain time itself,

and the Spanish artifacts reconcile gold with rust.

There you will find Dibella, Alberoni, majesty and peace.

Outside, the kind crow, the Philippine sky, the laurel trees.

__________

Written for Word Garden Word List--Full Dark, No Stars. When I was 20 or 21, I visited San Agustin Church in Manila. If there is a place in the world that is truly God's House, then San Agustin must surely be it. 

Music: Kate Bush This Woman's Work 

Word Garden Word List--Full Dark, No Stars

 

Hello my late-summer flowers! Speaking for myself, I am delighted to see August turn to its latter days and the temperature turn cooler. I am ready for pumpkins and witches! Okay, so I am rushing things, and depending on where you are you may be longing for spring instead. No matter! Our source this week comes from that master of the macabre, Stephen King!

I have chosen his 4-story collection Full Dark, No Stars. It's a good one, though--as the title suggests--dark as can be. Your poems need not be dark unless you want them to be, though!

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, and then relax until you hear something strange rattling in the closet or at your window in the night. Bwahahaha! This prompt remains active through Sunday. 

And now, your List!

Care Bears

crow

faded

flummoxed

funny

gingerly

hidey-hole

hucksters

lemonade

magazines

mournful

oak

overhead

possible

potions

pretty

snared

washing

wedding

wounded

Have fun!

Pardon My Doggerel

 

I never met Gregory Corso

but his words were Gasoline

to the engine of my mind.

I did meet Allen Ginsberg once.

He signed the books

whose Howl had assuaged my loneliness. 

Here is a picture of the two of them,

another random human,

and a dog.

The tv is silent, cowed by the presence

of such vagabond intensity.

Corso shares a sandwich as if it were a chapbook.

Whitman said that not one animal is respectable.

Neither are poets, but they understand appetite

for food, for love, for being here now.

Come closer. I will shed a poem on you and make a mess,

then smile as if I had done something fine

to the engine of your mind

to assuage your loneliness.

I will do for you as these others have done for me,

off the leash and across the page

down through all the days of my life. 

_______

for What's Going On? "It's Raining cats & Dogs."

Music: Jennifer Warnes and Leonard Cohen Song of Bernadette

Farm

 

The butter is hard--

the biscuit takes it like a punch.

Eat your crumbs, child.

The milk expands, exploding the jug.

Cold cows care for nothing,

least of all the farmer's hands blue on the udder. 

This is agri-business. There are rules.

The clerk is here to count the kernels.

 No kindness from crows hard and polished as obsidian.

The vane is a zig-zag escapee

shouting "Freedom!" from inside the wind's mouth

where white teeth worry at fogged-up windows.

Automated fakes pass out promises

in Dixie cups, hats bobbing like generator vent caps,

a rooster in every head, erupting with cold words. 

Paint the chickens black and white

and dress them in freezer bags like crunchy raincoats.

Salute the magpie, child,

for luck, your ribs bent into a horseshoe and nailed

above the big open door

where our policies are performed.

_______

for Word Garden Word List--Philip K. Dick

Word Garden Word List--Philip K. Dick

 

Hello my little Listies! This week our source is a 1974 dystopian novel by the late Philip K. Dick entitled Flow My Tears, the Policeman Said. Isn't that a great title?

Philip K. Dick

I love a good sci-fi story, but like the divide between fans of Star Trek (me) and Star Wars, I do not like sci-fi's dragon-happy cousin, fantasy. My personal tastes aside, what we do here is to use at least 3 of the 20 words provided in a new original poem of our own. Any subject, any style or form. Then just link up, visit others, and then sit and contemplate how the world around you is an illusion constructed by powerful shadow figures beyond imagining. Or, just read a PkD novel! This prompt remains active through Sunday.

And now, your List!

automatic

butter

choose

clerk

Dixie cup

escapee

fakes

fixed

fogged-up

frizzy

lucid

magpie

mandatory

puny

quibble

records

reincarnated

rules

shaken

slime

Lucy the Tiger-Human Hybrid

 Lucy, the tiger-human hybrid

litigated against the lab and strutted out one day

to a clatter of cameras and bright lights.

She's all about mid-century modern.

Her home is all in avocado and burnt orange,

even her skin between the stripes. 

She is uncommonly graceful

but life is awkward. Women won't let her

hold their babies for fear of bloody murder.

She has difficulty finding clothes that fit her.

Terrified clerks back away big-eyed, never thinking

of how these reactions hurt her. 

On a friend's birthday, Lucy jumped out,

shouting "Surprise!" and the friend fainted.

These snafus happen all the time.

"Sweet ink!" crows the hipster at the coffee bar,

She does not correct him. "And you must work out!"

He may be just the guy she's had in mind.

At Lucy's house, retro fashion reigns supreme.

She and the kittens groove to the Stray Cats. 

Her man is strictly cutting edge and avant-garde.

Life is so much better now, she says.

Things worked out thanks to lawyers and latte,

and the only thing she charges is her credit card.

________

for Word Garden Word List--Apathy.

Word Garden Word List--Apathy

 

Hello, my little cubicle rats! This week's Word List is taken from Paul Neilan's absolutely hilarious nihilistic absurdist novel Apathy.  I am sorry to be slightly late getting this posted, but a combination of health concerns and Olympics addiction delayed me just a bit. 

Paul Neilan

The protagonist in this novel compares two women he is sleeping with by saying that sleeping with one (to get a break on his rent) makes him feel like a clown, but sleeping with the other makes him feel like a clown sitting on a splintered floor, holding a gun and crying. The banality of a co-worker's chatter makes him drop to a knee, knowing he could now never have children. It's a crazy tale full of very funny hyperbole, hopeless weary observations, and completely ridiculous scenes and characters. 

What we do here is to use at least 3 of the 20 words provided in a new original poem of our own. Then just link up, visit others, and then give Paul Neilan a badly-needed hug. This prompt remains active through Sunday!

And now, your List:

avocado

awkward

bumbling

cartoon

circle

deaf

furiously

gibberish

guinea pigs

helicopter

hilarious

kittens

letterhead

madness

murder

parole

queen

terrified

thumbs-up

writhed

Black Roses

September in the city

and nobody knows you're here.

It's okay to walk down the boulevard

it doesn't care if you're sad or broke or queer

All the familiar faces

washed away in an angry rain

now you're here in September in the city

and you have to start all over again

The sun just over the pigeon roofs

is yours as much as anyone else's here

and black roses in a sidewalk garden

bless you as much as anyone, dear

September in the city

and god is in the windows and the leaves

you will be all right, for one more night

if you just remember to breathe

The sun just over the pigeon roofs

is yours as much as anyone else's here

and black roses in a sidewalk garden

bless you as much as anyone, dear.

Mother-In-Law's Tongues

 

even

as the edges grow

cutting open my body-womb

spirit sheath,

I speak the wound called poetry

blooming dying leaning to

the light.

_________

A cameo poem for What's Going On?-- "A Cameo Appearance".

Word Garden Word List--A.E. Stallings

 

Hello my little epic heroes! As promised, a special treat this week, as our List is taken from the collection "Like" by A. E. Stallings. I love her because she alternates between ordinary domestic situations and Greek myth with the ease of a circus juggler. 

A.E.Stallings

What I particularly love about her poems is her deceptively easy-looking use of form and rhyme, which lends elegance to everything she has to say. Raggedy raggamuffin that I am, I hope to emulate her in this, but you may do as you wish and either rhyme or not, and use form or not! You can learn all about her and see examples of her work HERE. 

Meanwhile, what we do here is to use at least 3 of the 20 words provided in a new original poem of our own. Then just link up, visit others, and then sit back and defend the pass at Thermopylae with all of your brave poet pals! This prompt remains active through Sunday.

And now, your List!

amazed

clover

devout

dreams

eggs

glass

glue

huge

leggy

luck

mystery

numbered

proverbial

quiet

snack

sweetness

temporary

toy

winter

yarn

Yarn Ball

 

The devout go to graveyards, too.

numbered from the day we are born;

winter-bearers disguised in gentian blue.

Every cat knows the yarn ball has its end.

stitched into a world of glorious patterns

comprised of flesh, genomes, accident, atoms.

I am the baby playing in the April clover

riding inside the disappearing bone-brittle

biddy, herself a rider who with Charon must settle.

In between I live my dream within a dream

within a buzzing hive of urgent ephemeral illusion,

a corporeal toy. an aspect of God, in a barrel on a waterfall stream.

___________________

for Word Garden Word List--A.E.Stallings