April 30, 2016

Beltane is always adorned with this year ..................................................................................#NaPoWriMo2016

El Sol y la Vida
Frida Kahlo 1947

diarrhea alone will begin 
to kill more and more  
as future water 
becomes as dirty 
as money 
and synonymous 
with gold ...

deep in the slow doom 
we dance in election year gear
with a world watching us learn 
we were never meant 
to be as smart 
as we think we are ...

we need 
calendars without time 
jimi hendrix sirens 
squealing bends and bones 
righteous ones 
back from the grave 
from raining angels 
to the tiniest devil 
root toes of trees 
trumpets and violins 
jumping jacks and violets 
trump is violence, rod is ham 
they both want your clams 
and no ma'am 
you don't really 
have to give away
the taco but we don't mind 
if you do, though we need 
the ovaries
and the breast milk 
in an aside column 
this poem centers back to
clueless and voraciously reading 

The Fountain of Neptune, Bologna

finding classics 
are timeless fits 
pictures, moving too fast 
will steal words these days 
from the right to left 
audio visual semantically 
romancing the shallow pooled
emotions most easily tended
to, fanned and flamed

finding your own voice doesn't mean sounding like someone 
you've read per se or heard in your life or caught an exhibit of 
as entertainment somehow in this picture capture grabbing 
attention world of spanned shorter and shorter orbital memory 
units paper money was really cloth money and was did away 
with decades ago old timers camped under the overpasses 
tend to laugh into the dark especially, saying remember when 
and when alone and you hear yourself thinking in what ifs and 
I wish(es) then listen because your voice is near precipice sound 
and can now be found falling into fire and abyss as you call out :

the poems can sound 
as if a nursery rhyme were singing 
your wholly secret 
roller derby fantasy one more time 
those girls have strong legs 
and these days you need 
all the s trength you can muster 
just to keep carrying on 
in only three dimensions 
running with these kites 
of nostalgia during storms 
without wanting warnings 
or moorings even 
you seem 
to always end up  
saying every place 
is a place for you 
when there's no place
like it home



  1. Right on. It's about time someone started a poem with the word "diarrhea."

    I love the way the title feeds into it too ... "Beltane is always adorned with this year: diarrhea." What an awful prophecy.

    But seriously, the italicized part stops me in my tracks. It's one of those quit-your-bitching kind of statements, because obviously, I have nothing at all to complain about, in the scheme of things. I guess I should probably ponder the world's realities a little more often and a little more deeply so as to appreciate my healthy children and my home.

    But the truth is, I will just keep grumbling and spending too much time reading poetry. :P

    Love these:

    "deep in the slow doom"

    "we need
    calendars without time
    jimi hendrix sirens
    squealing bends and bones"

    "from reigning/raining angels
    to the tiniest devil" ... Man, how to determine such a thing. I just love that ... the tiniest devil. And angels that are rain or that do rain.

    "and no ma'am
    you don't really
    have to give away
    the taco" ... This and the whole section that follows is fantastic.

    This post is so visually appealing. I really like the alignment variations, and that fountain image.

    I used to see a lot of plays when I lived in San Antonio, and there was a woman who squirted breastmilk onto a canvas onstage as part of her monologue. I wish I could remember her name.

    "was did away with decades ago" ... Is this intentionally worded this way?

    "when alone and you hear yourself thinking in what ifs and
    I wish(es) then listen because your voice is near precipice sound
    and can now be found falling into fire and abyss as you call out" ... I really like this section.

    In the last stanza, I think you're probably mocking me, which is fine. But did you mean to word the last line as you did? It seems like it would say "like home" or "like at home." However, since it says "like it home," I read it as "lie-kit home," as if we can buy/make "lie kits" in order to make "home" work. I guess maybe you're saying it doesn't really matter if my poems are sing-songy nonsense because my physical life is so hard, and being absurd in my writing gives me stronger "legs" to stand on throughout my days, which are difficult for me to walk through.

    Otherwise, "there's no place like home" would be a Dorothy/Wizard of Oz reference.

    1. I wrestled with that last statement, going back and forth, from connote possession of warm nostalgia Kansas emptying or the real weight in the absence of a place like home to go back to ...

    2. One of my typical post dream morning writes that I will go back to with magic eye loose hands editing in spinning wheel wet clay words with fire and a bowl of water nearby ... shape and form, what comes of mood today ... etc ...