Saturday, October 11, 2008

uninspired images (what happens)

i would like to know
if you can forget what they have to say
put flowers in my hair
send in the cement truck to
roll over the papers they laid out
page to page to page to page
across a field
if you know how to make a pinata
out of garbage pulled from the recycling bin
if you know origami, if paper cranes
fly from the windows of the most high
inbetween metal rulers
standing upright made to take measure
of a man's worth
yardsticks metrics human resource manics
if she's clinging to the bridge in the river
hair wet, she will snub you
not forgetting
notch by notch bit by bit
by the belt by the harness
by the little black book hooked
bells in the distance, dogs barking
shepherds showing their teeth
driving through the trees
all of the pretty horses
a straight pencil line through the sky
if all
the raindrops
were lemondrops and gumdrops
how long do you think it will take to
make that many pinatas and cranes?
falling from cielo
lets pull out enough paper for the moon
i will need a ruler for my skyline
a construction company for my bed
i won't make it until it meets my standards
then i will lie in it
and invite the kids to jump on it
candy falling from their pockets
caramelos in their mouths
planes and cranes and barney
waving from a hot-air balloon
the biggest goddamn pinata you've ever seen
with crazy other characters
plastered and painted to take up the slack
entire fields and stacks
popped to pieces

(this is such a weird poem and it's all over the place. i don't feel very inspired right now but too stressed to write TTSOML immediately)
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fir or pine? moss cast itself across a rock
sinking tiny tent stakes into the soil
working down with a jagged cane
lift up the rock and watch how they scatter
none of them slow except the slug
that will cling to the rock over the company
over the company
the company
over the company
what did you put in your backpack? for me?
a rock? a rock for me?
what happened to the creepy things i saw
leaving? some devotion.
this slug will have a place in the garden
appearances can be deceiving
this slug will feast on tomato leaves
under a canopy
thought it would be happy under job's tree
this slug will have a place in the garden
this rock will move and be moved
broken edge on the side,
is where they took a pebble
from the side
a pebble for our slingshot
why do so many ugly things hide
beneath
a rock?
fortunately, i think, we can see
symmetry in the centipede
we have the sun and a magnifying glass
but are not so mean
as to burn a hole
into arrhythmic hearts
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This isn't a poem...I just found out the power is back at my place. This resident just said it was a transformer that blew. He said you could hear it and then everything got really quiet. But it's BACK. listening to erykah badu "honey"
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i decided to delete my last entry. i think i'll keep it to myself
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Hahahahahaaaaaaaaaa! For some reason, I decided to play "He's A Tramp" from Lady and the Tramp and it is cracking me up. I have never listened to this song before, and so perfectly seen a man I know as the very tramp she's singing of. It's PERFECT. I think I must be the lounge singing fluffy dog

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I am finally in my groove or whatever. The flow. I will be writing TTSOMLs all night, right after I go hme to belt out a few songs. I played "Mr. Brightside" and it got me going, spurred on by The Killers.
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i told this woman
christa
how i wanted to paint something i had
had in my mind a long time
something i told my first boyfriend about
in high school
a light cover in my bedroom
in moses lake
had wheat strands splayed on the cover
bronze or gold
i don't remember
i saw a girl standing in a field
of wheat or some kind of grass, up to her waist
in my mind's eye
she was pulling the strands
with her head bent
examining the piece
in a field, alone
but i am not gifted enough, i told her
to paint what i see
what i want to paint
i don't know who she was
but she was free
as free as the girl i see dancing
spinning around and around
in a bright yellow dress
with her arms in the air
almost dreams but i was awake
like smoke from a bottle
the one in a yellow dress
has colors of gold around her
and twists and spins in wide circles
over streets of glass
smooth transparent streets
both girls are blond

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