Friday, July 20, 2012

Linked up Recalling A Shade to dVerse Pub's Meeting at the Bar.

Today, we are looking back through what we have posted to DVerse and picking one for an encore. I can't decide which is the "best", so I just posted the first one that I linked to dVerse. I do think it represents the way I like to write my poems; and it's also one of the earliest poems I posted on this blog.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Plasticine -- Practice Clay


Plasticine Days

Moldable rainbow bands:

cherry red and summer green,
lifesaver orange and earthy brown,
lemon yellow, pool blue,
decolored white and concrete grey.

            Imagination without ritual;
            inspiration inborn.

            Courage overruled reasons --
            not-to, must-not, should-not.


     Rolled out
     on the table.

A train.
A loaf of bread.
A snake.

A plasticine doll posing
a walk
       on knobby feet,
a slow slouch
       caused the figure to bow.


Posted at dVerse Pub: Open Link Night (Anniversary Week).

When I started blogging again, I came across many poetry blogs and communities with their weekly get-togethers and link-ups, but by far dVerse is the best run poetry blogging community site -- there's always something interesting happening on it, a great article to read, forms to try, prompts to play with - something for everyone at anytime. Such an awesome community.

Sunday, July 8, 2012

Monsters In Your Pocket


Gotta Catch 'Em All

            too much to do
            and too little time
            for the... who
            and the... what

easy to forget when we are constantly high on
millisecond moment/to/moment minute-rushes

              "gotta to catch them all"
               the young ones say

as they collect monsters
caught off the beaten path
keep them in plastic habitats
until the time comes
to fight other monsters

different monsters
different skills, pick well
while you ponder the worth
of old favorites over new
and untried potentials

                guess you can't have everything

integration comes after much practice
memory evolves to resemble
an excel worksheet --

columns of stats:

personalities and tendencies
trickled down, a pooling
of combinations basically

               scissors. paper. stone.

every new face met on the road,
an opportunity to duel
with monsters you can't refuse

it's all about elemental effectiveness,
counters divided into various degrees
-- variety makes it interesting

             if you faint, you lose.


You have to play it to understand why kids are so crazy about that pocket monster collecting culture known as Pokemon. Then again, you've probably already played this game.

Saturday, July 7, 2012

Depicting a monster


Two-headed Awful Horror

Jealousy & Envy- who could quell
the furnace fire that burns in the gut
of this monstrous two-headed beast?

Caught in the glow of their eyes,
hypnotic horror inducing thoughts
magnify every failure to thrive;

arms with poisonous bite strive
to drag willing listeners into its jaws
filled with rows of three sided teeth.

For every one it eats, another arm grows
like a deadly vine, drag another one down.
This beast loves self loathe and misery;

its sinuous veins pump baseless fears
mixed with fury and malice; the beat
pulsating "why not me? why him? why her?"

In the furnace of its boundless dimensions,
it seeks to burn all consumed,
releasing hatred and ill wills;

noxious fumes of rotten affection
form negative halos, through which
all sun rays corrupt but ultraviolet.

This awful thing can destroy all the relationships with the people we hold most dear. Be watchful.

Sunday, July 1, 2012

The littlest things


I do not remember
this button
on this shirt

being this white,
the stitching
being this tight;

it's not the same

as the rest
on this shirt:

all the others hang 
loose, comfortable
where they are hooked;

but this one,
number two
from the bottom,

this one is different:

the stitches are too clean,
too tight,
         over-sewn --

this one is new.


After-dinner chit-chats can sometimes be the cause of indigestion.


One-way conversations for two (or more)

Throat tightens, gut acid stirs;

whose hands strangle the arteries
throbbing cold in my head?

Competitive conversationist disorder --

what you would call who gets to get
the next word in edge-wise;

self-scoring points for making sense,
subtle offensives feinting defense.

Each little cheese wedge,
each sip of dull wine,

serves only to widen the crack.
Knowing glances exchange,

suppressed, replaced
with polite smiles.