"Those were hard things for me to come by, and I offer them to you for what they may be worth." - Toby Wolff



Friday, May 27, 2011

Things I'm reading...and maybe you should be.




I'm writing ...about a book I keep passing on the freeway :)


A discarded volume
blown wide by passing exhaust
as though toxin breathed bird
with biblical wings of rice paper
and aching to fly,
it's effort born of script
across bloated pages

And reading...


Letting go.
For years I thought that meant not feeling anything.
Walking undisturbed down a street of broken hearted people;
thinking to myself: what fools, what god damn fools!


Barely seen and barely seen past
he still carries the weight of old
abrasions, sends possible pardons
to scarlet fires, do-it-yourself hell

I worked like a monk
a trance of oblivion
that day and into the next

My head started looking
like something nearly human,
and the third day it took on
a forlorn expression. 


I made a strange man,
though I think my first vision
was to shape up a woman.
But women are weird
and my fingers were virgin.


To be amused, long before I realized
That I no longer amused you, I gave
Myself a pompadour with a bottle
Of Michelob.


Impulse to animate and dance
And dance they did not caring a whit for consequence
Like sleeping cats dreaming of wild things
To pounce upon and
Babies entering the fray



 
 

12 comments:

  1. Interesting how a little "vision" like that can evoke a good peom ... and this is good. Enjoyed! Thank you ...

    ... and thanks for feauring my poem and for the intro to other poets. Great post.

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  2. Thank you, Annie! I'm flattered that you consider me worth reading. Also, it's been great fun reading the others. New aqcuaitances all.

    I love your poem! Can I just say, I don't get the line: "as though toxin breathed bird". Can you explain (you don't have to; I often don't want to, and don't - although for you I always will). The next line "with biblical wings of rice paper" evokes something in me. I'm not a church going man - my dad is a radical socialist - but I own a bible. Its pages feels so fragile; they feel like my grandma's skin, on her deathbed. I once spilled a glass of whiskey on Isaiah. That spot is sorer and more fragile than all others.

    That book by the side of road, it's part of me too. And poet Ko Un -he found a book of poems by the roadside on the way home from school, and it changed him in unaccountable ways.

    Oh, you are a sweet soul, Annie! Can I say that? Well, you are.

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  3. Annie,
    i looked for options to follow this blog but couldn't find 'that' button....i was led here by curios smoke that rose from your words i have seen on other blogs...you posted this poem on Will's blog and i couldn't help but come here and appreciate this fine piece of work...like it...cheers....

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  4. Jamie - You are most welcome :

    Andreas - Of course you can say! I suppose I could have been less "artsy" and said, "as though toxic exhaust breathed life into the book and it became a bird." Does that make sense? Well, it's what I meant. And yes, the pages of my bible were exactly what I was referencing...how thin and translucent they are.

    Perhaps, the start of an awesome poem?:

    I spilled whiskey on Isaiah
    and the prophet did drink...

    Ha! It's your poem. Write it :)

    Manik - LOVE that curious smoke led you here. Must have been that fine cigar I had for lunch :) Cheers to you as well.

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  5. please read this; "Have a very safe and happy weekend" :)

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  6. It's a gorgeous frickin line, Annie! I totally get it - man I was being slow - and love it. I wouldn't have asked if I didn't feel comfortable with you.

    Yeah, the Isaiah part is a nice touch, right? It's true though. That whiskey-stain brings your eyes straight to 12:3-5. I don't know if that means anything. It has the word joy it, which I like.

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  7. Glenn - Indeed I will, and you as well!!!

    Andreas - Had to look it up! "Joyfully you'll pull up buckets of water..." (The Message version, which I am partial to this year). Hope it's true for you Andreas!!! Buckets of joy would be nice...eh?

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  8. AnonymousMay 30, 2011

    always good to leave bread crumbs...

    xo
    erin

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  9. women really are weird:) got to love the weirdness.
    the weight of past abrasions speaks to me. some fun reading you linked to.

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  10. Images of the heart colliding one into the other creating a collage of sorts ... it leaves me feeling expectant, for what I can't say, but sometimes being expectant is better than being satisfied. Thank you!

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  11. Erin - Indeed *wink*

    Ed - Ha! As I just wrote on the music blog after listening to Alanis:

    you might want a manual
    a playbook
    Rule Of Woman
    this one, this woman
    oh...you'd be so bored

    you might want me stable
    and predictable
    agreeable and hanging on
    your immutable suggestions
    as if they were my very own
    because my mistakes might be minimized
    and your awkwardness reduced
    oh...but I'd be so bored

    So....wierd but not boring eh Shutter Bug?

    Matt D - I suppose you're right. Expectant is still ripe with possibility.

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  12. Thank you for the "weird" reading! :)

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Thank you for listening.