Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Extra Credit Poem

If you are so inclined.

Best,
AK

5 comments:

Bishop said...

Someone—some saint or sage—
Some prophet disguised in a student’s mask told me—
Poetry is in the noise.

Your voices, like tired out-striped five nines ring in my ear
And lingered in other more private soulful regions.

White noise made clear.
Hollow words given gravity then weight

I have been dumb-downed by bosses who speak
In baritone voices.
Who worship false idols—who drowned in pools of pennies—chocking on copper words—their breath stinking like greenbacks and metal.

But yesterday, oh
McCarteny, oh lennon, Oh Yesterday—

Words, like dolls, ‘by the thousand were falling out of the sky.
I look up in fear.
I look down and they at feet forming small oceans of puddles.

And, I fall to my knees and weep heavy brined tears
That want you to taste because they are something
In the vastness of this nothing.
And on my knees in a puddle of words and tears—all I have is questions:
“Why is there no mother”
Why are all these dolls falling out of the sky?
‘Was there a father?’

“Father, Father, why have you forsaken me?”
To which there came no answer

And I --poor beggar of words
Who used to be Larkin’s jealous youth
Have been given a small fortune—have been given the gift
Of poetry in the noise

So I –bend down and kneel over the puddle of
Ink and pulp—of scratch marks on a page—of
Words given new life—of recreation of deities who
Who wield sledgehammers disguised as pens…

But I—in that puddle—see I, and see you
And see my sister kim and my lover
Mark Strand—my mother who birthed me
Whose name is Anne and makes me cry whenever
She mentions my aunt who lingered one to many
Moments in the kitchen.
And I see me, and I see you, and I see a man with a
Hawk nose—I see my god parents W.H. and Ms. Emily D.

And I know I am dead soul—I know it has been too long
Since I have heard the poetry in the noise.
I know I needed to cry—and this puddle is part mine.
I am so hungry.
“Dead people eat it
but if you eat it, you die
The answer is nothing she says,
And tells the who thing over saying nothing
Until its something.”
I want to purge on poetry

So I eat:
And I kneel at the puddle lapping up your offering like the celestial waters of life.

To be thirsty. To say I thirst
To feel the mouth burn
To feel the sudden present of what again and again was not said
To translate it and have it remain unsaid. To know at last that
Nothing is more real then nothing.


Today I want
to resolve nothing.

I only want to walk
a little longer in the cold

to hear the poetry in the noise
to commit myself to that place, to the keeper of that place.

B said...

Tinged with red
A curtain of coloured beads
Suddenly the sun appeared.
Food and water,
Interpreted dreams,
Sacred heart of jesus and two chairs,
Beginners luck,
Heavy gold &
Lizards and four leaf clovers…
I don’t know how to turn them into reality

Daniel Davis said...

The First Stars Walked South

Who dares to read the meaning
when the blinding sand has settled?
The end of the war
is here in the oasis.
Distant dreams as places of refuge
helped me to trust in people.
He pushed forward,
but the tribesmen still fought in the desert.

katecav said...

Tradition says:
messages of the desert
language of the world
surface of an emerald.
go and try
with a thirst for things new.
who told you that?
walking a new road every day,
it's like it always has been.
all this happened between sunrise and sunset.
the boy had met the alchemist
and the roof had fallen in long ago.
it is written.
It had told him to dig where his tears fell...
sometimes, there's just no way to hold back the river.

Jo said...

This isn't my poem, it's Emmy the Greats. And it probably would have been much more relevant when we were discussing the Labyrinth, but I never got around to posting it then. So, while I'm thinking of it, I'm going to post it here. It's an interesting song, anyways.

Easter Parade, by Emmy the Great

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3gOpULt67dU

PS- I'm not posting this for extra credit at all, I just decided to post it on the most recent blog entry.