Yeah, these are a lot harder to do than I thought:
CANON
The sky is flat.
Objects descend from it, pointing down at me,
They never fall.
The ground is endless,
Unlike the sky.
I travel, I see, I remember every time I’m
Told to.
I’m a constant companion.
I go everywhere with them,
Crowds of people dip and sway in front of me,
Landscapes are manipulated for me,
Animals are made to pose and do tricks because of me.
My companions do play on words with my name.
They deepen their voice,
Look through me, aim and say
Tell it to my Mother Fuckin’ CANON!
Friday, December 3, 2010
Edits
SO I turned in my portfolio for this poetry class I took to kill time this semester, and half way through the semester my teacher had this condition and had to sit the semester out. My class received a new teacher. He told me that I should "put stress on the poem" that "there was more to the poem" than I realize. Okay, that sounds great and all but I had no idea what he was talking about.
Then he gave me an example with Palpation (the last posted poem). I thought it was awesome, a little mystery, a little sexual innuendo (who doesn't like those?)
So here is Palpation, revised:
Palpation
I remember the first time I did it.
Pulled the glove on,
Rubbed the lubricant in.
A tight fit. One where you’d have to sooth her.
Inhaling deep, stroking her thighs
Whispering to her.
Deep breath, sigh, time to go in.
Angled for easy access.
She squeezes.
I continue to go in, forcing it.
Warmth engulfs me, it embraces me.
Deeper I move until I hit a wall.
Pushing past it, I continue deeper
Until I’m buried within her body.
She clenches up.
There’s no space.
It is too tight. I can’t breathe. I pull out.
She rejects me.
Then he gave me an example with Palpation (the last posted poem). I thought it was awesome, a little mystery, a little sexual innuendo (who doesn't like those?)
So here is Palpation, revised:
Palpation
I remember the first time I did it.
Pulled the glove on,
Rubbed the lubricant in.
A tight fit. One where you’d have to sooth her.
Inhaling deep, stroking her thighs
Whispering to her.
Deep breath, sigh, time to go in.
Angled for easy access.
She squeezes.
I continue to go in, forcing it.
Warmth engulfs me, it embraces me.
Deeper I move until I hit a wall.
Pushing past it, I continue deeper
Until I’m buried within her body.
She clenches up.
There’s no space.
It is too tight. I can’t breathe. I pull out.
She rejects me.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Palpation
I remember the first time I did it.
Her eyes widened when I pulled the glove on,
She sighed when I rubbed the lubricant in.
I was told that it would be difficult,
A tight fit. Where I would have to sooth her.
Inhaling deep, I stroked her thighs slow
To get her to relax and loosen up.
Hope that my voice calms, I whisper to her.
One more deep breath I sigh, time to go in.
I’m at an angle for easy access.
She squeezes. I remember to massage.
I continue to go in, forcing it.
Warmth engulfs me, it embraces me.
Deeper I move until I hit a wall.
Pushing past it, I continue deeper
Until I’m buried within her body.
Afraid she moves around and clenches up.
I almost passed out. There’s no space.
It is too tight. I can’t breathe. I pull out.
She rejects me switching her tail in anger.
All I can do is make it up to her.
“It’s okay Decky. Easy girl, easy. We’re done.”
She’s loyal; she will not stay mad for long.
I remember the first time I did it.
It’s complicated, palpating a horse.
Her eyes widened when I pulled the glove on,
She sighed when I rubbed the lubricant in.
I was told that it would be difficult,
A tight fit. Where I would have to sooth her.
Inhaling deep, I stroked her thighs slow
To get her to relax and loosen up.
Hope that my voice calms, I whisper to her.
One more deep breath I sigh, time to go in.
I’m at an angle for easy access.
She squeezes. I remember to massage.
I continue to go in, forcing it.
Warmth engulfs me, it embraces me.
Deeper I move until I hit a wall.
Pushing past it, I continue deeper
Until I’m buried within her body.
Afraid she moves around and clenches up.
I almost passed out. There’s no space.
It is too tight. I can’t breathe. I pull out.
She rejects me switching her tail in anger.
All I can do is make it up to her.
“It’s okay Decky. Easy girl, easy. We’re done.”
She’s loyal; she will not stay mad for long.
I remember the first time I did it.
It’s complicated, palpating a horse.
Atashi
He’s this precious glass box with
Fault lines and fissures.
If I tread too hard he will shatter.
I attempt to handle him with
Lace hands and honey soft words.
Wrap him in silk arms and dance across lily pads.
I try to take my time with him so he doesn’t
Fall and break.
I can tell from the cracks that he has been
Glued back together before.
But he’s in luck, because he found me.
I am the artisan of dust.
Fault lines and fissures.
If I tread too hard he will shatter.
I attempt to handle him with
Lace hands and honey soft words.
Wrap him in silk arms and dance across lily pads.
I try to take my time with him so he doesn’t
Fall and break.
I can tell from the cracks that he has been
Glued back together before.
But he’s in luck, because he found me.
I am the artisan of dust.
Hontou ni?
What would be the point if I lied?
There is no changing the fact that I have traversed
This earth as a single entity
Bound to shadows and the damp grey mists of
Uncomfort and sunless mornings.
Speaking concerns to ink that plays tricks on
Paper and tells him riddles.
Everything I view is full of color.
Noise that irritates the retinas, but sings harmony
To the brain that is a box of crayons.
It is me and the lonely sound of one heartbeat.
Mine.
I am quickly loosing interests in all the things that
Once brought joy to this island.
Like the lasting effects of heroin
I sing the body electric then fade to a new
Phase far from the first.
Rainbows and Butterflies
It's all rainbows and butter flies
foreign objects and blue skies.
Rusted metal and dust covered floors,
board less roof and chain link doors.
It's flowers and happy thoughts
no circulation of blood no perfumed cars.
Held down in a high place.
Sun shining, middle of a holiday.
Summer breeze of clean air.
It's all rainbows and butterflies...
Think about blue skies...
Remember flowers and happy thoughts...
Perfume and new cars...
Oh, it's the middle of the day..
Summer breeze take this feeling away!
It's not rainbows and butterflies
but steady hands in little thighs.
That's the foreign object during the sunlight.
Rusted metal and dust covered floors, factory parts
and chain link doors, missing boards in a ceiling
that doubles as an attic...
Can't think about flowers or happy thoughts.
Can't find this voice so he can get caught.
Held down in a high place face against nail covered wood.
The sun shines its a holiday.
Summer breeze, clean air, no tears today.
It's not rainbows and butterflies
not even tears for these dry eyes.
No flowers and no happy thoughts.
No voices for the hours of distress
repeated later by a new test.
It's not really a holiday.
Prince charming? Nope, not this day.
It's rainbows and butterflies...
Rainbows....butterflies?
Why can't this little girl cry...
Years and years fly by.
She is paralyzed in this place never
telling a soul, this is the first time...
Today.
foreign objects and blue skies.
Rusted metal and dust covered floors,
board less roof and chain link doors.
It's flowers and happy thoughts
no circulation of blood no perfumed cars.
Held down in a high place.
Sun shining, middle of a holiday.
Summer breeze of clean air.
It's all rainbows and butterflies...
Think about blue skies...
Remember flowers and happy thoughts...
Perfume and new cars...
Oh, it's the middle of the day..
Summer breeze take this feeling away!
It's not rainbows and butterflies
but steady hands in little thighs.
That's the foreign object during the sunlight.
Rusted metal and dust covered floors, factory parts
and chain link doors, missing boards in a ceiling
that doubles as an attic...
Can't think about flowers or happy thoughts.
Can't find this voice so he can get caught.
Held down in a high place face against nail covered wood.
The sun shines its a holiday.
Summer breeze, clean air, no tears today.
It's not rainbows and butterflies
not even tears for these dry eyes.
No flowers and no happy thoughts.
No voices for the hours of distress
repeated later by a new test.
It's not really a holiday.
Prince charming? Nope, not this day.
It's rainbows and butterflies...
Rainbows....butterflies?
Why can't this little girl cry...
Years and years fly by.
She is paralyzed in this place never
telling a soul, this is the first time...
Today.
Waiting Room
And the sirens start again. “Welcome back” they scream to me. “Welcome back.” Thanks UT, sigh, I’m not really ready to return. Will I do better than the last time I was here? Which was the first time I came and tripped and fell right in front of the line that leads to failure? Can I write the “music of my heart’s” intuitions? Or will I fall short on a survey? Public relations with the enemy, (my social life….clubbing) Will it advertise my down fall before it happens? Does lust come with a foreshadowing?
They say once you fall off the horse you get back on and ride strong and proud. But they don’t tell you how hard it is to get back in the saddle, or how hard it is to get off the ground. At least once in every man’s life (human that is) we arrive at a place in time where the obvious answer to our problems are conflicted with emotions and tears so huge that we are lost in that moment. And in that moment we are lost, and afraid, and above all else we are confused.
It seems that it is always easier to talk about the hardships in life. The mistrust, the abuse, what we barely remember, and all the times we were the ones down and out with no one to fix our luck. But why do we never look at all the wonderful aspects of our day to day life? The people we look forward to seeing, the music we cannot wait until it is released, the sex that we are dying to have just one last time, or the next time we bite in to that piece of food that tastes like pure heaven.
We are parasitic. We cling, and drain, and fester until the host (who ever that might be) medicates and sets us free. Back to where we started loathing everything. I smile at the thought that most would live there live in this way. Being the cancer that no one wants, but does not have the strength to become dormant.
They say once you hit rock bottom and all that you ever knew and all who you ever loved has moved on. That’s bullshit, everyone that you have loved, and who has loved you in return has gone nowhere. It is only after you sit back in that saddle and pull those shoulders back that you realize all of your heart ache and despair, fear and sense of nothingness only lasted for that moment. And it is after that moment that life is not slowed down anymore. The sun is still shining somewhere when it’s raining its ass off on you.
And the sirens start again. “Welcome back” they scream to me. “Welcome back.”
(09/05/2008: Vrba)
They say once you fall off the horse you get back on and ride strong and proud. But they don’t tell you how hard it is to get back in the saddle, or how hard it is to get off the ground. At least once in every man’s life (human that is) we arrive at a place in time where the obvious answer to our problems are conflicted with emotions and tears so huge that we are lost in that moment. And in that moment we are lost, and afraid, and above all else we are confused.
It seems that it is always easier to talk about the hardships in life. The mistrust, the abuse, what we barely remember, and all the times we were the ones down and out with no one to fix our luck. But why do we never look at all the wonderful aspects of our day to day life? The people we look forward to seeing, the music we cannot wait until it is released, the sex that we are dying to have just one last time, or the next time we bite in to that piece of food that tastes like pure heaven.
We are parasitic. We cling, and drain, and fester until the host (who ever that might be) medicates and sets us free. Back to where we started loathing everything. I smile at the thought that most would live there live in this way. Being the cancer that no one wants, but does not have the strength to become dormant.
They say once you hit rock bottom and all that you ever knew and all who you ever loved has moved on. That’s bullshit, everyone that you have loved, and who has loved you in return has gone nowhere. It is only after you sit back in that saddle and pull those shoulders back that you realize all of your heart ache and despair, fear and sense of nothingness only lasted for that moment. And it is after that moment that life is not slowed down anymore. The sun is still shining somewhere when it’s raining its ass off on you.
And the sirens start again. “Welcome back” they scream to me. “Welcome back.”
(09/05/2008: Vrba)
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