The Best of Mad Swirl's Poetry Forum : 09.10.11
"And your very flesh shall be a great poem." ~ Walt Whitman
•••••••••••
This last week in Mad Swirl's Poetry Forum... was a nascent crow; a deamcake mermaid; a free fall; a pretentious poet; an unlucky charm; an emptied shell and a consuming coincidence. Whew! - mh
Just in case you missed it, here's a taste...
YOUR COINCIDENCE IS MEANINGLESS
On the road towards Houston
Voice of youth on disc
Brother Two’s sad music
Playing like its notes were
Fingertips
And my insides
Just another malleable instrument
Pull into a bright rest stop
Little animal mascot
Winks atop a sign
Inviting us to stay a while
Buy brightly packaged shit
Straining dollar bills through
An idiot’s bucked toothed grin
Dazed shuffle of the good citizen
All fade into the fog
The brain creates to fool you sane
Meaningless faces match the corporate hue
Of sliding glass doors
Of Madisonville
A nowhere stop
Between a plastic Dallas and a
Styrofoam, hopeless Houston
Then the shock of recognition
Pushes me into the moment
Brother One walking through
The whole plain and predictable scene
The boy I used to know
With teenage uncertainty
Back in the car
Freaked out
As Brother Two
Sings obliviously
- Meg Frances
(1 poem added 09.10.11)
editor's note: The meaning was, no doubt, buried in the surreal, consumer-friendly surroundings; the not-sought brother lost in the strain of dollar bills. Nice, Meg! Good to see your splash in the Swirl again! - mh
If This My Person...
I do not know any more
how to speak of the burning
wires.
How to dress
the cramp with
dream.
I am simple now, like a shell,
a swallow, a
first-love.
I do not walk with eagle's foot,
do not stir myself naked from
sleep
into a gallery of torments imagined.
That is gone like
desire
that clings and begs
for miracles, like a boat that
breaks
the waters then is broken
by a great
Tide...
- Allison Grayhurst
(added 09.09.11)
editor's note: Don't worry over how to connect those dots. It doesn't matter; all we know falls away, in time. - mh
Your Last Name
I gave you a naked
photograph of myself and
the only vestige I
have left of you
is an old Eskimo pie and
the skunk dyed
rabbits foot you gave
me, its nails now
crumbs at the bottom of my bag.
- Kayla Smith
(added 09.08.11)
editor's note: Always strive to leave a more lasting memory than rabbit's foot toe jam, especially when you still have that picture taped to your bathroom mirror. - mh
JAMES
I.
The saddest boy I'd ever seen
wore God in the palm of his hand
when we met. When we touched,
it left a hollow imprint.
(I suspect his wife taught it to him.)
II.
Holding hands in Deep Ellum
I spoke to God
in a vision. He opened
in the flesh like an abscess.
Before anything else, Ariel,
You should know that
James found Erin.
(I stopped in my tracks,
something caught my eye.
The two most perfect
grackles. You could hardly
tell they were dead.)
III.
James speaks the pass-word primeval.
It says so on his arm.
He says it means he's a poet, though
he hasn't written in months.
(He doesn't know that I know
that it matches Erin's.)
Sometimes when he sleeps
I scratch at it.
The ink gets under my fingernails.
- Ariel Starling
(added 09.07.11)
editor's note: So, James is poet, at least he thinks he knows it. Ariel knows better! - mh
Falling Man
I am falling through the sky!
I love the feeling of the cold wind swimming around my body!
I look at my feet above me as I fall!
I feel like a bomb falling on pearl harbour!
I am falling from my office window!
I am heading towards the pavement below!
I chose to jump!
I am happy that I have finally made this decision!
I am ready...
- Luke Ritta
(1 poem added 09.06.11)
editor's note: Metaphor or meat-mashing reality; once the jump is made, might as well embrace it - ready or not. - mh
Skyla's Dreamcake
“I want to swim with a mermaid.” ~ Skyla 5 yrs.
Because I'm 5, I can't decide what kind of cake I want.
So I had a dream.
And I, I dreamed my pillow---was a dreamcake.
Baked by baker fairies, named Wiff, Pritz and Larry.
I got icing in my ear, and a candle stuck in the other.
It's made my bed a sticky mess, I'll not tell mother.
I managed to blow out a single candle that had stayed lit on my nightstand, as the cake slid out of bed.
I thought of the ocean and cleaning the icing off my hair and head.
-
And my dreamcake, for dear dream birthday wish, presented me with pretty girl on the coral rock, tail and hair that went swish, swish.
“Skyla”, she said in tempting mermaid voice, “would you like to swim with me?”
And into the ocean, knocking off clumps of icing they went.
But the water woke her up, and to her surprise, only a faint smell of ocean lingered. And a wee bit of icing on one finger.
A single fish scale, lay shining like a rainbow on the spread.
Happy Birthday.
- Louis Marvin
(added 09.05.11)
editor's note: Sweet! Mermaids, cake, dreamscape - a happy birthday indeed. I'm still smiling. - mh
He Lives!
Jim Crow is gone
From our sight!
He’s no longer here
To torment the
Colored folk!
Gone from the buses!
Gone from the restaurants!
Gone from the voting booths!
The courtrooms!
THE ENTIRE SOUTH!
Jim Crow has
Disappeared!
But…
He is just hiding.
And you can
Find him,
Inside a woman’s womb.
- Roderick Richardson
(1 poem added 09.04.11)
editor's note: Can't play hide-and-seek with destiny, nor peek-a-boo with bigotry. Which is it? Hmmm, well, which are you? - mh
•••••••••••
The whole Mad Swirl of everything to come keeps on keepin' on... now... now... NOW! Every second, every minute, every hour, every day, every week, every month, every year, every decade, every every EVERY there is! Wanna join in the poetic conversations going on in Mad Swirl's Poetry Forum? Then stop by whenever the mood strikes! We'll be here...
In the Flesh,
Johnny O
Editor-in-chief
MH Clay
Poetry Editor
•••••••••••
This last week in Mad Swirl's Poetry Forum... was a nascent crow; a deamcake mermaid; a free fall; a pretentious poet; an unlucky charm; an emptied shell and a consuming coincidence. Whew! - mh
Just in case you missed it, here's a taste...
YOUR COINCIDENCE IS MEANINGLESS
On the road towards Houston
Voice of youth on disc
Brother Two’s sad music
Playing like its notes were
Fingertips
And my insides
Just another malleable instrument
Pull into a bright rest stop
Little animal mascot
Winks atop a sign
Inviting us to stay a while
Buy brightly packaged shit
Straining dollar bills through
An idiot’s bucked toothed grin
Dazed shuffle of the good citizen
All fade into the fog
The brain creates to fool you sane
Meaningless faces match the corporate hue
Of sliding glass doors
Of Madisonville
A nowhere stop
Between a plastic Dallas and a
Styrofoam, hopeless Houston
Then the shock of recognition
Pushes me into the moment
Brother One walking through
The whole plain and predictable scene
The boy I used to know
With teenage uncertainty
Back in the car
Freaked out
As Brother Two
Sings obliviously
- Meg Frances
(1 poem added 09.10.11)
editor's note: The meaning was, no doubt, buried in the surreal, consumer-friendly surroundings; the not-sought brother lost in the strain of dollar bills. Nice, Meg! Good to see your splash in the Swirl again! - mh
If This My Person...
I do not know any more
how to speak of the burning
wires.
How to dress
the cramp with
dream.
I am simple now, like a shell,
a swallow, a
first-love.
I do not walk with eagle's foot,
do not stir myself naked from
sleep
into a gallery of torments imagined.
That is gone like
desire
that clings and begs
for miracles, like a boat that
breaks
the waters then is broken
by a great
Tide...
- Allison Grayhurst
(added 09.09.11)
editor's note: Don't worry over how to connect those dots. It doesn't matter; all we know falls away, in time. - mh
Your Last Name
I gave you a naked
photograph of myself and
the only vestige I
have left of you
is an old Eskimo pie and
the skunk dyed
rabbits foot you gave
me, its nails now
crumbs at the bottom of my bag.
- Kayla Smith
(added 09.08.11)
editor's note: Always strive to leave a more lasting memory than rabbit's foot toe jam, especially when you still have that picture taped to your bathroom mirror. - mh
JAMES
I.
The saddest boy I'd ever seen
wore God in the palm of his hand
when we met. When we touched,
it left a hollow imprint.
(I suspect his wife taught it to him.)
II.
Holding hands in Deep Ellum
I spoke to God
in a vision. He opened
in the flesh like an abscess.
Before anything else, Ariel,
You should know that
James found Erin.
(I stopped in my tracks,
something caught my eye.
The two most perfect
grackles. You could hardly
tell they were dead.)
III.
James speaks the pass-word primeval.
It says so on his arm.
He says it means he's a poet, though
he hasn't written in months.
(He doesn't know that I know
that it matches Erin's.)
Sometimes when he sleeps
I scratch at it.
The ink gets under my fingernails.
- Ariel Starling
(added 09.07.11)
editor's note: So, James is poet, at least he thinks he knows it. Ariel knows better! - mh
Falling Man
I am falling through the sky!
I love the feeling of the cold wind swimming around my body!
I look at my feet above me as I fall!
I feel like a bomb falling on pearl harbour!
I am falling from my office window!
I am heading towards the pavement below!
I chose to jump!
I am happy that I have finally made this decision!
I am ready...
- Luke Ritta
(1 poem added 09.06.11)
editor's note: Metaphor or meat-mashing reality; once the jump is made, might as well embrace it - ready or not. - mh
Skyla's Dreamcake
“I want to swim with a mermaid.” ~ Skyla 5 yrs.
Because I'm 5, I can't decide what kind of cake I want.
So I had a dream.
And I, I dreamed my pillow---was a dreamcake.
Baked by baker fairies, named Wiff, Pritz and Larry.
I got icing in my ear, and a candle stuck in the other.
It's made my bed a sticky mess, I'll not tell mother.
I managed to blow out a single candle that had stayed lit on my nightstand, as the cake slid out of bed.
I thought of the ocean and cleaning the icing off my hair and head.
-
And my dreamcake, for dear dream birthday wish, presented me with pretty girl on the coral rock, tail and hair that went swish, swish.
“Skyla”, she said in tempting mermaid voice, “would you like to swim with me?”
And into the ocean, knocking off clumps of icing they went.
But the water woke her up, and to her surprise, only a faint smell of ocean lingered. And a wee bit of icing on one finger.
A single fish scale, lay shining like a rainbow on the spread.
Happy Birthday.
- Louis Marvin
(added 09.05.11)
editor's note: Sweet! Mermaids, cake, dreamscape - a happy birthday indeed. I'm still smiling. - mh
He Lives!
Jim Crow is gone
From our sight!
He’s no longer here
To torment the
Colored folk!
Gone from the buses!
Gone from the restaurants!
Gone from the voting booths!
The courtrooms!
THE ENTIRE SOUTH!
Jim Crow has
Disappeared!
But…
He is just hiding.
And you can
Find him,
Inside a woman’s womb.
- Roderick Richardson
(1 poem added 09.04.11)
editor's note: Can't play hide-and-seek with destiny, nor peek-a-boo with bigotry. Which is it? Hmmm, well, which are you? - mh
•••••••••••
The whole Mad Swirl of everything to come keeps on keepin' on... now... now... NOW! Every second, every minute, every hour, every day, every week, every month, every year, every decade, every every EVERY there is! Wanna join in the poetic conversations going on in Mad Swirl's Poetry Forum? Then stop by whenever the mood strikes! We'll be here...
In the Flesh,
Johnny O
Editor-in-chief
MH Clay
Poetry Editor
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