Saturday, November 27, 2010

savvy sarah ten feet tall

So I've met a girl who is like the living Sarah. I've always considered her my alter ego but yeah. this is bad. poetry to follow.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

"they never even thought to ask your name"

I feel the need to post something so here is this. I don't feel like posting anything newer. This was written (i think) the day after "troof". It's pretty similar in subject matter, but I think it's better. I re-read it last nite and was pleasantly surprised.

"troof #2"

this is what i do when i'm desperate
i listen to "all the umbrellas" on repeat
and erase your pictures from my phone
i ignore the fact that you're a twenty minute walk away
all of this, this is all

i can either do that, or disappear
but to disappear i'd have to undo everything
cut my hair, cut all ties
move to a new state, and change my name
it's easier to suffer, it really is

what if instead i showered you with words?
called you at one am with tears on my neck?
i could whistle a sea chanty, and hide in my hands
the backlash would be imminent
i need to pretend i'm safe

i'll continue to pray, and deny every urge
if it ever happens it
won't be because of me
or i'll have to go paint houses
back where it doesn't rain

The second line is a reference to the song "All the Umbrellas in London"  by The Magnetic Fields. It is one of the most depressing songs ever written, and is dear to me. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tnLLR4QwEPY

Here is this because people seem to like it:

"for terri"


i wanted to sit with you in your garden
and talk about the iris
i wanted to listen to your voice as i sipped sweet tea
still, i can feel your spirit, and i know it continues

i will carry a piece of you forever
a treasure, a flower in the soil of my heart
you were something to be shouted for
i am blessed that you knew my name

you encouraged me to love, and to watch my mouth
and, i am bigger because of it
you called me "the picky poet", and played up my strengths
you stood, and struggled with me when i couldn't hold myself

i hope it's warm wherever you are
i hope the breeze blows just the right way
i hope you're with those you love
and i know you're kicking ass just same

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

rambles

These lines:

i cling to deliberate things
my lover's breast, her hot, soft kiss

are from a late '07 poem called "success". I'm pretty sure it'll make the cut for ex-girlfriend. I like those lines a lot. I'm rarely that specific when I write, I know exactly who I was talking about here. The word deliberate can be taken so many different ways, which is why I like it.
It's odd looking back at work. It;s like looking at grainy photographs. It's fun going through these old poems. I can't wait to see what recent(ish) stuff will look like when I start compiling for gravity. This next stanza is from an aborted cycle called "marriages". I was high from the success of "birth" ( http://blogs.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendId=43456899&blogId=412443892) when I tried to write that. I'm going to attempt to cannibalize what I can from that.

i'm married to this city, it was a simple ceremony
i got drunk, puked on her shoes
signed the papers, went to sleep in a bush
it wasn't the best of beginnings
but at least expections started low

Aw ha. Those are favorites. Anyhow, nothing to report. Life is threatening to get better. We'll see.

Monday, November 1, 2010

http://claraluzia.com/lines.html

"silence is a sound"


i’m falling, why am I falling down?
gravity is a bitch, and silence is a sound
songs i'd rather not be reminded of
they kick, and banter, and they shove

growing timid, as vapor as a slave
sweet devil, it's your voice i save
i go into my wilderness i come out scarred
mama, no one told me failure would be this hard

but as i lie, and attempt to tolerate
i yell, and pray away the bad voices that scrape
at my icky lungs, borrowed travelers from foreign town
i ache, i collapse, but get up without a frown

i brush off, and i'm standing, still
reminding the world that i'm not too ill
finicky and fucked, with the patience of a  child
i'm wounded, but the look in my eyes is wild




See? See what I did there? Not only is this a first draft, it rhymes. I haven't written in rhyme in god knows how long. I wanted to try it, though. Mostly, to see if I could but I was given the first two lines and I wanted to make them work which meant I needed another fourteen rhyming lines. I like it. I hope you do too.
If I ever finish compiling "things your ex-girlfriend said"; "gravity is a bitch" is the tentative title of chapbook 3. I've been deliberating over this for a while, but now that I have a poem with the line it has more of a chance. Unlike 1 and 2 this will be mostly newer poems, which is why I'm trying to be careful about what I post here. I have an unfinished poem called "elliott smith's blues" that will hopefully make the cut, if I can finish it.
Other stuff I'm working on.. I've been thinking about my neighbors cycle again, and I have an idea for another  called "east coast world". That title has been in my head for like six years. I'm also pretty sure I now have enough ammunition for another project that isn't poetry.