5 - Vices

Four of Diamonds - Vices
5 - Rondeau



New poem coming here at some point...

So...

It was hard to be in a misanthropic state of mind after a stint in Hawaii, and then I just let things get away from me. I can't guarantee I'll get back up to a weekly or even bi-weekly pace, but dear readers, consider the following the seal-breaker of a new flood (or trickle) of content:


Seven of Clubs - Misanthropy
6 - Sapphic Ode

Trash compactor stench lingers acrid along
Tar and granite arteries bleeding live noise:
Coughs, carousing laughs, empty bleating voices
Warped as this scaffold -

Corrugated aluminum that breezes
Teeters loudly below a burned-out building
Whistles sound as bricks, cement fall demolished
Dusting sidewalks where

All the city colors coalesce blue-gold
Needles float cascading through gutter water
Rainbowed beneath black Baptist church or gray gay
Bar with a torn flag

There or law practices or beside flower sellers
Under my feet even as I cross fourth street
Dry-mouthed shaking mess but I'm lucid among
Cruel ashen faces

4 - Misanthropy

Seven of Clubs - Misanthropy
6 - Sapphic Ode

I'm going on vacation m-fs, so I'm giving myself two weeks for this one. Expect a poem here by Sunday, June 26th.

3 - Righteous Gentiles

King of Spades - Righteous Gentiles
15 - Acrostic


Sugiharara, Half-Asleep

Escaping, finally, the bonds of hierarchy and of a
Xenophobic climate, here
In the arms of his wife, he
Thinks of them:

Victims: an elderly woman with tiny wrists,
Infants - he can
Save them!
All he has to do is
Sign his name


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chiune_Sugihara
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Righteous_among_the_Nations_by_country

2 - Schadenfreude

Five of Hearts - Schadenfreude
18 - Cragislist Missed Connection

http://boston.craigslist.org/gbs/mis/2422726872.html

That Top Line - w4m - 85 (how old I feel at the office, MA)

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Date: 2011-06-05, 3:57PM EDT
Reply to:

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To my boss -

How you squirmed when
She scolded you
"I'm seriously concerned about that top line"
"Yes, yes."

I smiled and smiled
Typing away

That's all

• Location: how old I feel at the office, MA
• it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: 2422726872

---

Expect another poem here next week...

1 - Abortion Protestors

So begins another leg of this poetry project. Again, I will draw and roll on Monday and post here by Sunday at midnight. Week 1 will be:

Three of Diamonds - Abortion Protestors
18 - Craigslist Missed Connection




http://boston.craigslist.org/gbs/mis/2408713710.html

Pretty Planned Parenthood Protester - m4m - 30 (Allston, MA)

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Date: 2011-05-28, 11:41PM EDT
Reply to:

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Hey Curlyhead
I know you remember me
I sure remember you -
Your hot breath against my face
Lips centimeters away from mine
Yelling
Our bodies separated by the edge of an painted circle -
A thirty-foot radius
Your breath smelled like licorice and leather
I could almost taste you

I caught you checking out my package
As we were pulled apart by the Planned Parenthood workers
In yellow parkas
And that's gotta count for something...

Message me if you want to be fucked
And then abandoned
It's what you deserve, you
Handsome asshole

• Location: Allston, MA
• it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: 2408713710

Expect a poem here sometime next week...

New Look, New Cards

As promised, this project will continue, if at a slightly more manageable pace. Every Monday, I will draw a card and roll the die. From the outcome,I will write and post a poem here, sometime before midnight on Sunday. Taking into consideration a week off here and there, this list of topics will take us through to next April.

Below is a revised near-deck of cards - a mix of the unused topics from the past two years along with a few new ones:


RULE CARD New Ways of Living
2C Palate Cleansers
2D The Power of Red Lipstick
2S Irrational Fears
2H Noble lies
3C Quails
3D Abortion Protesters
3S Octopuses
3H Bonfires
4C Television
4D Vices
4S Scratch Tickets
4H Komodo Dragons
5C David Icke
5D Bodacious Babes*
5S Silly Bandz
5H Schadenfreude
6C Two Girls, One Cup
6D The Great Bear
6S Sacred Spaces
6H Crying on the Internet
7C Misanthropy
7D School Photos
7S Wooden Escalators
7H Young Poets
8C Zombies
8D The Hundred Flowers Campaign
8S Meteors/Meteorites
8H White Day
9C A High Schooler on Gchat
9D Evolution/Devolution
9S Kissing a Married Woman
9H Resident Ghosts
10C Big Pete/Little Pete
10D Red Dawn
10S Rooftops
10H Underage 'X's
JH Paper Flowers
QH Mitochondrial DNA
KS Righteous Gentiles
AD Sophomore Slumps
RED JOKER Justice
YELLOW JOKER Martyrdom


And here's an altered list of forms:

1 Prose
2 Variable
3 Ruba'i
4 Sestina
5 Rondeau
6 Sapphic Ode
7 Blank Verse
8 Shakespearean Sonnet
9 Petrarchan Sonnet
10 Spenserian Sonnet
11 Haiku
12 Limerick
13 Tweet Length
14 Beat Poem
15 Acrostic
16 Free Verse
17 Villanelle
18 Cragislist Missed Connection
19 Variable
20 Any Above Form

"Variable" means I will choose from a list of lesser topics including Zen Koan, Bruce Springsteen Song, and plenty of other surprises.

You may notice that there are thirteen cards missing from the deck. Some or all of these will come into play, depending on how ambitious I feel.

Expect the set-up for the first poem here on Monday. In the meantime, read this April's project and/or last April's project, both now more easily navigable!


Enjoy, dear readers!

* Blogger's spell check suggestions for the phrase "Bodacious Babes": 

Mendacious Babes, Veracious Babes, Sagacious Babes, Contumacious Babes

It's Over/It's Not Over

That's right. Even though April may be done, this project isn't. I'm taking a week off and then back to it, though at a slightly more manageable pace. All the details will be posted here early next week. Thanks for sticking it through with me this month, dear readers; I hope you enjoy what comes next.

April 30th - Conks

Four of Diamonds - Conks
7 - Craigslist Missed Connection

A nod to "Invitation to the Blues".
-

http://memphis.craigslist.org/mis/2355857382.html

Rita Hayworth at the Register - m4w - 37

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Date: 2011-04-30, 10:54PM CDT
Reply to:

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You work at a certain restaurant
Most weeknights and on Sundays
I admire the way you pour coffee
From my table by the window
I've been in every night this week
And it's not for the bacon
You're a moving violation -
From your conk down to your shoes

Linger at my table next time
Or come bring your dodge to the filling station
Tell me how I like my eggs

• it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: 2355857382




More stuff coming here on Monday...
In the meantime, check out April 30th's poem from last year.

April 29th - Before Pictures

Four of Clubs - Before Pictures
7 - Craigslist Missed Connection


http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/mis/2353696295.html



Beauty of the Before Photo - w4w - 35 (Midtown East)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Date: 2011-04-29, 5:50PM EDT

Reply to:

Reply To This Post

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Is it crazy to fall in love with a photo?
a little maybe but
how could I not
be moved by
your bemused lips
your lotus shoulders
how you cradle your belly
as if it were in swaddling clothes


You are the height of loveliness
in a captured memory
in green bra and leopard print panties
you shouldn't let any man
or any woman say otherwise


This woman certainly won't:
she'll be wearing a golden cicada brooch
on Wednesdays and Sundays
at front desk of the 77th street Jenny Craig -
come and cancel your membership and
she'll take you out for Lobster





•it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests




PostingID: 2353696295





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Check for a new poem here tomorrow...
In the meantime, check out April 29th's poem from last year.

April 28th - Potential Energy

Two of Diamonds - Potential Energy
13 - Dialogue


Tension

Now pull it back
I know it's hard just
     "It's hard Dad"
I know
Just pull
Good and
Steady
Keep your eye on
Steady
Keep
Straighten your shoulder for Chris-
Okay
Just keep your eye on the blue
  
    "What makes the arrow fly Dad?"
You don't need to know that
You just need to know
Where to put your feet




Check for a new poem here later today...
In the meantime, check out April 28th's poem from last year.

April 27th - The Scott Kazmir Trade

Seven of Hearts - The Scott Kazmir Trade
10 - Free Verse

June In Sunset Park


Two faded, fitted caps worn inside
Two Brooklyn Summers sipped slowly
The men say little to each other
Accustomed to years of calm fellowship
Or perhaps not to jinx the Mets' 2-1 lead
In the bottom of the sixth

The picture cuts to the Angel's dugout and
Both balding brothers bristle
Still raw about the Kazmir deal


Check for a new poem here later today...
In the meantime, check out April 27th's poem from last year.

April 26th - Sudden Enlightenment

Ace of Spades - Sudden Enlightenment
4 - Ruba'i


Fill My Cup To Overflow

My body like an empty bowl

I tug upon your camisole

And tongue across your salty sweet

Then pause for you to seize control

With legs enwreathed and twisted feet

Gateless in the rising heat

Giving way to muffled cries

We savor and suffer beat by beat

No Zazen brings me to these highs

Zealously we claim our prize

You strike at me for keenness sake

I see colors when I close my eyes

And the whole living univerese shakes

A thunderclap, a tree branch breaks

While here a subtle shift of weight

Prepares me finally to wake

With palms upon your tender pate

Two entities at last conflate

Take in a single inward breath

And quaking die a tiny death

Omnipresent yelling "God is Great!"

Check for a new poem here tomorrow...
In the meantime, check out April 26th's poem from last year.

April 25th - My Girlfriend's Toothbrush

Jack of Diamonds - My Girlfriend's Toothbrush
12 - Limerick

Whoa. No Kids Allowed into this poem.


My Girlfriend's Toothbrush

My girl has an electric toothbrush
In discussing it she is known to gush
When her roommates are gone
We switch it to "on"
And do things that would make a whore blush


Check for a new poem here tomorrow...
In the meantime, check out April 25th's poem from last year.

April 24th - Apocalyptic Dreams

Ace of Clubs - Apocalyptic Dreams
3 - Shakespearean Sonnet




Prescience/Collapse

One summer night I fell into a dream:
My friends and I meander through the mall
And suddenly a man lets out a scream
As pieces of the ceiling start to fall
The burden-bearing cable swiftly snaps,
Foundations shake as crossbeams bend and roar
The total structure threatens to collapse
We link our arms and make it to the door
Outside the air is black as buildings burn
Just noise: a siren's blare, a woman's cry
Amid cacophony one can discern
The crunch of bodies falling from the sky
      And yes it was a dream, but when I woke
      My eyes beheld a skyline filled with smoke


Check for a new poem here tomorrow...
In the meantime, check out April 24th's poem from last year.

April 23rd - Two Brains, One Skull

Six 0f Diamonds - Two Brains, One Skull
9 - Hip-Hopera


Well, dear readers, I'm going to have to invoke a get-out-of-jail-free card  on this one - or power of attorney or something.  I hate to cop-out tonight, especially since I dropped the ball on the last hip-hopera, but frankly didn't have the time today. It was worth it, however: thanks to R. and R. and K. and UNIS for a great afternoon/evening/night.


I basically got as far as I did last time.


Songs used:
David Bowie - No Control
Thom Yorke - Black Swan
Thom Yorke - The Drunkk Machine
Micheal Jackson - Remember the Time (that animated sequence at the beginning looked so great in 1992)


(All times listed refer to clips above)


The driving force of the song is the intro to "No Control" layered over the first 0:04 of "Black Swan." Since the percussion on both is very similar, I hope to create a disconcerting echo effect. The verses would consist of "No Control" 0:00 - 0:19 looped, while the choruses would be 0:20 - 0:38 looped. There would be a bridge - and drastic change in tone - that fades in at around "Drunkk Machine" 1:00 (after a fadeout of "No Contol," over "Black Swan" at first) in time to hear "Talking in tongues" and out around "Drunkk Machine" 1:20. This will also serve as the song's outro.


The additional vocal samples would be:
"All deranged. No control."
"No Control." (2:22)
and of course, "Do you remember?"


"Black Swan," "Remember the Time," "Permafrost," and others are meant to thread through the entirety of this hip-hopera.


This movement would be a schizophrenic number about how fame breeds paranoia and regret, the key line being "I'm of two minds." It would ideally be performed by someone who sounds a lot like RZA.




Check for a new poem here tomorrow, I swear...
In the meantime, check out April 23rd's poem from last year.

April 22nd - Victories (small)

Ace of Hearts - Victories (small)
11 - Petrarchan Sonnet

Another Poem About Kissing an Ear

Impossible too over-reassert

The lustrousness of her effulgent ear

And laid inticing on its pale fronteir

A marked scar from some mysterious hurt

I keep this ear in mind each time we flirt

And though I try to act most cavalier

Because of my compulsion I do fear,

We've crafted a relationship inert

Months travel by but I never forget

My longing for what lays beside her head

Through providence one evening, tete-a-tete

We find ourselves together on my bed

   Approaching breathlessly with open lip

   I finally carress its petal tip

Poem coming here later today...
In the meantime, check out April 22nd's poem from last year.

Shout Out #2

Jon Berger is the man who first exposed me to the idea of National Poetry Month - in fact he is who first exposed me to poetry I had any interest in (Jon is often exposing himself). If you ever have a chance to see him perform live dont pass it up; he is one of the most talented and certainly the most prolific poet I know.

Check out his stuff
His NPM blog
Buy his poems (on cd)
Listen to his band

April 21st - El Trains

Seven of Clubs - El Trains
11 - Petrarchan Sonnet


High Line Park

Ascending grated stairs the rails appear
And tracks enwrapped by verdant undergrowth
Her hand in mine and mine in hers but both
Beset by joylessness evoked from clear
Memories sprouting forth, recalling years
And vanished faces we once knew by rote
As tracks and rails displace their grassy coats
And phantom trains cause rumbling in our ears

Then back, encouraged by her pleasant face
Surprised to find us in this lofty place
Together sitting with our forearms crossed
Indiff'rent to the present's lovely truth
For even celebration of our youth
Cannot compete with everything we've lost


Poem coming here later today...
In the meantime, check out April 21st's poem from last year.

April 20th - Man vs. Food

Jack of Spades - Man vs. Food
15 - Acrostic


Man vs. Food

Covers thrown off
Evan sweats
Limbs at odd angles
Longings suppressed but
Unable to resist he

Lumbers from the bed
Into the kitchen and
Tearing open the Entenmann's box he
Eats

Another poem coming here tomorrow...
In the meantime, check out April 20th's poem from last year.

April 19th - Sadaharu Oh

King of Clubs - Sadaharu Oh
2 - Haiku


Tamo/Ume/Oh

Sadaharu swings:
Plum blossoms open by degrees:
The crack of white ash


Another poem coming here tomorrow...
In the meantime, check out April 19th's poem from last year.

April 18th - Character Sketch of a Starbucks Regular

Jack of Clubs - Character Sketch of a Starbucks Regular
14 - Rondeau


Delivery

Within his truck in soft repose

Reclining, Nelson starts to doze

And dreams from deep inside his head

Deliverance from the things he said

Awakes to unfamiliar woes

In wanting to console these throes

He visits one of many hos

And throwing her upon the bed

He delivers

Once back in Brookline's muted glows

The giant man neglects his loads

Attending to the moon instead

Does Nelson, mighty arms outspread

         After the doors at Starbucks close

         He delivers

Another poem coming here tomorrow...
In the meantime, check out April 18th's poem from last year.

April 17th - Progress

Two of Clubs - Progress
19 - Bruce Springsteen Song


Didn't quite get inspiration from The Boss on this one, but enjoy in it in its unfinished form. For the final, expect horn fills, Max Weinberg drum-kit heroics, and overt repetition of the word "night."




Back on I-195 (Hit The Road)

Magic in the air the first night we met

On the boardwalk at the shore

You were no stranger to summers there

But my family was too poor

Didn't stop me when I turned seventeen

I had one thing on my mind

Jumped in Tommy's beat-up Pontiac

And left the plant behind

Oohhh

I had no idea Maggie I'd find you that night

Cruising in Asbury Park

But on the beach all it took was one look

And we were kissing in the dark

Lying on the sweating sand together

Eyes to the stars

We broke into an abandoned beach house

Then into Tommy G's car

Driving back to your house in Hewlitt

In the early morning dew

I kissed you on your front porch, Maggie

Saying "I'll come back for you"

Oohhh

I said

Don't worry bout our parents

We won't walk the path that they trode

We'll shine much brighter

And if we get bored

Baby we can hit the road

At the factory I spent the winter,

Body burning for you

A brutal day's work

But the only way I knew

(She has an argument with her parents and leaves home. Gives up her five-town affluence to come to poor suburb of Trenton to live with him)

Saying "I only wanna be with you"

Oohhh

I said

The burden's sure heavy but

I'll shoulder it, no matter the load

We'll burn on forever

And if it strikes us

Baby we can hit the road

(They get married in a rush, and despite being poor, they live a pretty charmed life. Protagonist is even singled out by his boss for promotion)

"I got big plans for you kiddo

Boy your too smart for the floor"

(Protagonist almost puches boss, cause his father worked on the floor for thirty years, but takes promotion to make more money for his family. Can't believe life turned out this way, but will do anything to keep Maggie from working.)

Saying "I'll provide for you"

Oohh

I said

Success is a puzzle but

Someday we'll crack the code

We'll keep on burning baby

And if it comes to it

Baby we can hit the road

(Bridge: Despite profits, factory closes and moves to Mexico. Tommy G possibly loses a hand in the machinery. Basically everything goes to shit.)

She said

Baby you could try your luck at the nuclear plant

I'm willing to share the load

I'll clean houses, be a waitress

Whatever it takes

To stay off the cruel road

-


Check out the Springsteen song from last year


Some great Springsteen homages:
Dylan/Petty
Stiller
Muppets


Another poem coming here later today...
In the meantime, check out April 17th's poem from last year.

April 16th - The Dead Sea

Seven of Diamonds - The Dead Sea
7 - Craigslist Missed Connection

http://boston.craigslist.org/gbs/mis/2329799617.html

Body Shop Beauty - m4w - 46 (Cambridgeside Galleria)

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Date: 2011-04-16, 10:03PM EDT

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We encountered each other at the body shop this afternoon
You rubbed cream on my hands and I made you laugh
My wife was purchasing mud from the Dead Sea
I told you I was from Israel
And how real Dead Sea mud feels on your body
If she was not there I would have asked you to dinner


I want you to reply to me
I am willing to be discrete if you are...

• Location: Cambridgeside Galleria
• it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: 2329799617



Another poem coming here tomorrow...
In the meantime, check out April 16th 's poem from last year.

April 15th - Invisible People

Eight of Hearts - Invisible People
20 - Any Form of My Choosing

And I choose - Tweet Length
A) Because I like the form
B) Because it has been a long week


Japanese Waitress

She serves Shochu
To a of growling group of grandees
Gracefully

She's all bones and skin yet
She strives to be
Invisible


Another poem coming here later today...
In the meantime, check out April 15th's poem from last year.

Craigslist Missed Connection Updates

So I've received some responses to April 10th's missed connection:

Taussig Hagar writes, "looking for fun and to hang outke."

While Glanzman Vandela observes, "hung huge."


The internet is a wondrous thing.

April 14th - Thomas Kinkade

Five Of Diamonds - Thomas Kinkade
16 - Tweet Length

Read up on this winner

 
Sharing The Light

Inspired, rapturous
(They contain larger moral dimension)
: my masterworks

If you buy $300 or more
You get a free gift
Through Easter
On QVC

Check for a new poem here tomorrow...
In the meantime, check out April 14th's poem from last year.

April 13th - Whaling Ships

Nine Of Spades - Whaling Ships
18 - Beat Poem

32:2

After it has quited

One can hear the sails and

Flags winded

And hungry gulls

But not grief

As the butchers raise their gaffs

And the boatswain watches with empty eyes

And the able seamen continue their story

And the thirteen-year-old deckhand fingers his baleen necklace

As the butchers flense

And the visiting politician shivers under slack smile

And his visiting wife shakes in her corset

And the captain is not even looking

As the butchers flense

And the beast, breathless, quakes

And the grinning pupils of the chaplain laugh a prayer from Ezekiel

And a red wave washes over all the people

- their boots

As a butcher wipes his hands on the pages of a weekly newspaper

Somewhere back on America

A man reads the same newspaper

Pince-nez

Squinting in the fading sunlight

And moves to light his lamp

Check for a new poem here tomorrow...
In the meantime, check out April 13th's poem from last year.

April 12th - Dead Dogs (Redux)

Nine of Clubs - Dead Dogs
9 - Hip-Hopera (excerpt)

First, the four main reasons this didn't work:
- Ambition: I created a poetic structure that was way too massive to complete in one night - as you'll see.
- Not being prepared: I planned for everything I write in this Hip-Hopera category to be part of a whole. Therefore this entry was to serve as an introduction, an overture to an ongoing project. Whenever I rolled a '9', I planned to write another song that is part of a larger framework, each entry developing some of the previously introduced themes (musically and otherwise). My mistake lay in not making any decisions on the nature of this framework beforehand.
- Time management: I did want this piece, and all other parts of this Hip-Hopera to be set to music - in fact I found it a necessity - but so much of my energy yesterday was spent conceiving an instrumental backbone that I was at a loss when it came time to fill in the lyrics. I took about 45 minutes analyzing the meter of "Justify My Thug," which other than an increased level of respect for H.O.V.A., didn't do too much for me.
- Trying too hard: I attempted to incorporate too much heavy shit. It's a m-f-ing Hip Hopera!

What I was able to come up with:

I wanted a relatively simple bassline to act as foundation - something a little dirty and impossible to ignore. I love "Justify My Thug," and it fit my criteria pretty well, so I copped that. I wanted to layer something over it that was stark and a little creepy, something that sounds like the feeling you would get stumbling upon the corpse of an animal. "Permafrost" was an easy choice, especially thanks to the extended instrumental intro. Once I found some samples to fill in the transitions, I had an animate skeleton on my hands.

The songs I ended up sampling:

Jay-Z - Justify My Thug (somewhat not safe for work)
Magazine - Permafrost (definitely not safe for work)
System of a Down - P.L.U.C.K. (probably not safe if you work in a library or around small children)
Thom Yorke - Black Swan (pretty much, you should be wearing headphones)
Michael Jackson - Remember the Time (expect when listening to this one - PUMP IT IN YOUR CUBE)

The meter worked out quite well:

each verse = 16 measures (verse 3 – 24 measures)

each chorus = 8 measures

"Justify My Thug" beat is in 4/4 time, 4 measures, so it fit twice into each "Permafrost" sample

I envisioned the song as follows:

Intro: "P.L.U.C..K." 0:01 – 0:11 x4, fade in "Justify" beat overlayed with "Permafrost" 0:01 -0:23

Verse 1 : "Permafrost" 0:01 -0:23 x2

Transition: Do you remember?... ("Remember" – 1:12 -1:13)

Chorus: "Permafrost" 0:24 -0:48

Transition: "Black Swan" 0:01 -0:05/Watch it all fall down...("P.L.U.C.K."– 1:14 -1:16)

Verse 1 : "Permafrost" 0:01 -0:23 x2

Transition: Do you remember?... ("Remember" – 1:12 -1:13)

Chorus: "Permafrost" 0:24 -0:48

Transition: "Black Swan" 0:01 -0:05/Watch it all fall down...("P.L.U.C.K."– 1:14 -1:16)

Verse 3: "Permafrost" 0:01 -0:23 x2, "Permafrost" 3:23 -3:46

Last Line: Man, this is fucked up

"Justify" beat fades out

Outro: "Permafrost" 3:47 -4:14 – to fade out, Do you remember?...("Remember" 2:25 -2:26) at about "Permasfrost" 3:50

So, basically, I wrote myself into a song template that clocked in at over four minutes and translates to 72 lines of verse.

As for content, I wanted it to be sweeping and open ended enough to support any future additions. Also, I wanted to reference all of the songs sampled: from the Buchnerian sexual violence of “Permafrost” to the fun nostalgia of “Remember the Time.” Maybe thread in a statement about Armenian genocide...

Oh, and the whole thing had to be about dead dogs.

So it’s no surprise I only ended up with one decent line:

“I’ll take you out of orbit like the first dog in space.”

With hope I'll learn from my mistakes for next time. I should probably also take some pointers from the master.

Failure!

So I let my ambition get the better of me: I created a beast that was way too complex to finish in one night. We'll count this poem as a failure, and I'm okay with that; dinner and philosophizing was much more important. Tomorrow morning I'll post some insight into the process I took and what went wrong. In the meantime, I leave you with the following, which most definitely should be the title of a rap album:

A new poem here tomorrow...

In the meantime, check out April 12th's poem from last year.

April 11th - "Ravishing" Rick Rude

Queen of Diamonds - "Ravishing" Rick Rude
1 - Prose

A great obit for the man.


The Rumble

This was it. He was chosen to go first for a reason. Cymbals crash. The opening bars and he's off at a confident strut down the aisle, taking his time. With sequined robe, coiffed hair, and manicured mustache, he steps into the lights and the crowd roars. Two minutes. He's going on first for a reason.

Through the ropes and he's in the ring. Start the timer. Off with his robe and the crowd howls once more. "Ravishing" Rick Rude stands a body of marble, baby oil dripping and glistening under the lights. Rude throws the robe to the ring and steps forward to flex and kiss at the jeering crowd. His own face is emblazoned on his tights, mustache resting on pubis. Boos - and Rick reacts by wiping the sweat from his brow and flinging it to the audience.

Rude turns his back on them. Placing his hands on his buttocks, he saunters casually over to the other corner of the ring. There he sees a woman sitting quietly in the third row, aisle seat, and winks at her suggestively. She's a plant whom he'll kiss later, after he's been knocked out by Mr. Perfect. Gotta set the stage now. One minute gone by. It's time.

Bobby Heenan hands him the microphone. "Cut the music! You all came out here tonight to see the Royal Rumble, am I right?" Cheers. He repeats himself. "You all got your asses into your cars and drove to this run-down arena tonight so you could see the Royal Rumble. Am I right?" The din builds. "But I don't think any of you sweaty pigs" - boos - "you flabby, out of shape, inner-city losers expected to be put to shame this early. What I'd like you to do" - the boos rise- "Sit down and shut up! What I'd like you losers to do is take a good look at what a real sexy man looks like."

With that Rude ascends to the top turnbuckles, flexing as the crowd noise amplifies and squeezing them nearly to the brink, he eases back down to canvas. "Now I'm gonna step back for a second here," Rude pauses for effect, "and give the ladies a good look at the sexiest man alive. Hit the music!"

Rude ditches the mic. Then, his back to the south entrance, "Ravishing" Rick Rude places hands behind his head and rolls his hips. With each gyration, the rumble of the crowd grows, and thrusting, Rude brings the booing to a crescendo. His mustache shifts slightly: a smile as he preps for an imminent blow to the shoulder.

Two minutes. Texas Tornado comes barreling down the aisle, connecting with hand after outstretched hand. All the while, Yokozuna waiting in the wings.




Another poem - maybe a proper one this time -  coming here tomorrow...
In the meantime, check out April 11th's poem from last year.

April 10th - A Random TED Talk

Six Of Spades - A Random TED Talk
7 -  Craigslist Missed Connection


TED Talk

Missed Connection

-

Chemistry - m4w - 26 (Porter/Central)

---

Date: 2011-04-11, 3:06AM EDT
Reply to: your anonymous craigslist address will appear here

---

On Saturday
Our group of friends were buttressing at Cafe Mami
We recognized each other from our Thermo class and said hi
"The only good Japanese-style curry in Boston" you said
Later we were both at Miracle of Science
(Miraculous?)

You were drinking an Arrogant Bastard
I teased you about it
How did we get on the topic of climate change?
I called you Rachel Pike look-a-like

I was going to buy you a drink
But your friends were leaving
I was an idiot and didn't say anything then

So...

You wanna grab a beer
Maybe some shrimp skewers ;)
Tuesday after class

- j

• Location: Porter/Central
• it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: 2317809724


Another Poem coming here tomorrow er, (later today)
In the meantime, check out April 10th's poem from last year.

April 9th - Love Hotel Hill (Shibuya)

Queen of Clubs - Love Hotel Hill (Shibuya)
15 - Acrostic


Love Hotel Hill

"Gaijin Not Allowed"
Every place has this sign it seems
Translated in English and German from Japanese
Yet I'm Here

On the corner, a trembling line of men will grow
Until the club opens at noon
"Really?" I ask - but then, I'm here

Doogenzaka snakes and spreads
Into a Shinto Shrine; through the torii,
Cleanse at the choozuya, and I
Kneel at the feet of some stone dog, then back down again to
Winding streets, past sour-faced madams

Exiting, I follow a businessman
Toward Shibuya 109

-

In an attempt to be less obtuse:

Doogenzaka
Gaijin
Torii
Choozuya
Shibuya 109

Another poem coming here tomorrow (with luck)...
In the meantime, check out April 9th's poem from last year.

April 8th - Phantom Limbs

Two of Spades - Phantom Limbs
8 - Free Verse

Delayed due to computer issues. Thanks for the bailout Scarlett!:


Hands


Crack of knuckles
and to work:
cloth cords coiled round forefingers, blood
rushing to the tips
I pull - almost pain - and
release, relief

Palms now on smooth leather
cool, crawling up again
nails catch on stitching
wrists rest on icy grommets

Then:
strings secured in fingers' grips
I move my hands
proper pressure
precise, delicate like
I'm conducting to the carpet:
A perfect knot

On to boot number two

I seize it but
slick, slippery, it
slides from me -
once more: struggling
drops and wiggles across the floor
I grab again, angry
and it rears up
growing in my grip
spitting black from its tongue
laces whipping at my face
and threading through my fingers
wrapping my wrists
around my arms
real pain now
skin in binary colors: white or purple
I open to scream and get a mouthful of polish
coughing black
I cry out
I -

Awake in the blue light of my room

I stretch my fingers

The sheets don't move

I try to sleep again


Another poem coming here later today (I hope)...
In the meantime, check out April 8th's poem from last year.

April 7th - WILD CARD

Orange Joker - WILD CARD

WILD CARD #1 - Throwback: Any unused topic from last year

Which will be: Riding a Ferris Wheel
4 - Ruba'i

Cables and Girders

High above the carnie's stands

We sit together holding hands

Take in Brooklyn's lofty views

Think vaguely of our altered plans

And how we rarely get to choose

Who it is we mutually use

As we ascend around once more

Greeted by the ocean's hues

And bathers lying on it's shore

Which, truthfully, are all ignored

I swiftly kiss you on the lips

We slow to stop as girders roar

You kiss me back, a tongue is slipped

Both passionate and grabbing hips

The axle spins, the cables bend

The wheel revolves, our basket dips

And swings as we start to descend

We bring our fondling to an end

Retreat to edges of the seat

Concerned our capsule will upend

Staring at eachother's feet

We camouflage our shared conceit

And wait for one of us to speak

Preoccupied with common heat

Our opened door breaks the mystique

Getting out, my knees are weak

I stretch my toes in Coney sands

We once again are holding hands

"After this let's see the freaks."

Another poem coming here tomorrow...
In the meantime, check out April 7th's poem from last year (also a WILD CARD, coincidentally).

April 6th - Suicide

King of Hearts - Suicide
14 - Rondeau

Capote on 49^th Street

Young Truman jettisoned his cares

Threw parties (legend'ry affairs)

Resplendent boys peopled his bed

His books were univers'ly read

But he grew bored of this somewhere

In taking those who bought his shares

And casting them in "Answered Prayers"

Press, and friends, and even Lee said,

"It's suicide."

He quits the bar to startled glares

And leaving, tumbles down the stairs

On finding him with bloodied head

The waiters bring him home to bed

His fed-up bartender declares,

"It's suicide"

Another poem coming here tomorrow...

In the meantime, check out April 6th's poem from last year.

Shout Out #1

Jeremy Tyarks has incorporated National Poetry Month into the world of his forthcoming collection/ongoing poetry blog, Edward Brook. Tyarks is no stranger to writing marathons, having spent a full year producing a new piece everyday. He takes great pleasure in reclaiming lost words and his work is sensual and hilarious. Expect some brilliant stuff from Jeremy in April and beyond.

Like what you see? Buy his first book!

April 5th - Magazine Street

Jack of Hearts - Magazine Street
20 - Any form of my choosing

And I choose Free Verse:


Le Bon Temps Roule (sic)

The air is different in this place
lowland electric
foreign light
and "Dixie Voodoo"
in neon

I breathe Mississippi salt
and sand and sweat
magnolias
Virginia tobacco
dusk and Otis Redding
wafting from some idling taxi
the best
God Damned
radio stations, I swear

Down here
wasps fly around my legs
sucking sugar from dried beer
on splintered bench, which
in reality is a parking stop
"Most of the Time"

How good you look in
your dress when
you return, plastic cups in
your hands: jacks and cokes
to go



Another poem coming here tomorrow...
In the meantime, check out April 5th's poem from last year.

April 4th - Fat Elvis

King of Diamonds - Fat Elvis
1 - Prose

For all his ridiculousness, to give a performance like this, as overweight and full of Demerol as he was, man truly was a king. And yes, sometimes a king needs a sweat rag and two 64oz cups of coke.

Return of The King (excerpt)

The Ghost of Elvis Presley haunted my house the summer I was thirteen. I was terrified of him, sure, but if it wasn't for this ghost, if it wasn't for Elvis, I may have never been able to put a face to the emptiness I have felt for as long as I can remember.

My mother and I moved to Memphis in the spring and settled in a colonial-style house on the east side of the city. The neighborhood was bought out in the early fifties and given a complete overhaul: old rooming houses were knocked down and replaced with split-level homes with tiny yards. Our house was the only colonial on the block and I still haven't been able to figure out why. For all it's cobwebs and peeling wallpaper, it had only been built in the sixties; it was less than thirty years old. I never saw the insides of any other houses in our neighborhood, for we kept to ourselves when we lived in Memphis. My mother liked to remind me that we were there temporarily, and that was that.

I was taken by the house immediately: the large standing bathtub with the bronze feet in the upstairs bathroom, the way the stairs creaked as I jumped my way up them to my room. There were plenty of dark places to find in that house. I led solo expeditions down to the basement that smelled like a turtle's cage - once I found a salamander down there, which fled like a wind-up toy when I shone my flashlight on it - and up to the attic where I could see my bedroom through the floorboards.

My favorite thing about the house was the crawlspaces. There was one hidden in each room - behind the dining room table or an unhung painting - and my greatest discovery came when I realized they all connected to a central chamber. This half-room spanned all three stories of the house and each level was accessible by a knotted rope that had been installed by a former tenant. On each level there was just enough floor space for me to lie down, and there was a hint of sunlight in there from some unknown source. The wooden walls of this chamber were filled with insulation that looked like cotton candy. I loved it there.

I became so comfortable with the interlocking network of crawlspaces, that I began using them to travel through the house. My mother, knowing I was in my room, would call me from the kitchen, "Peter!" and I would bound through my crawlspace, slide down the rope, and within moments be standing behind her. She would jump every time and I never let her in on the secret of how I could do it.

Tennessee summers are as hot as anything and after school ended, I spent my idle days in our house. I would wake up around 10:30, after my mother had gone to work. First things first: change into a pair of underwear and my White Sox cap, grab my trumpet, and prepare a peanut butter and banana sandwich. From there I would spend the rest of my afternoon in my inner chamber - "The Spine Of The House" as I liked to call it - where it was cool and dark. I would lie down on the floor in the middle of The Spine with my feet up in the air, stretching my toes in the cottony insulation, playing my trumpet, nibbling on my breakfast between songs. I played "Yesterday" and "Everything Happens to Me", and the horn part for "Got My Mind Set On You," but my favorite song to play was "Hound Dog." Whenever I played it seemed like just by using my lips I could make the whole house vibrate. It was here that I first encountered the Ghost of Elvis.

One afternoon I dozed off with the cool of my trumpet on my chest and was awoken by the sounds of voices coming from somewhere in the house: a man' voice and a woman's voice, too muffled for me to make out what they were saying. The woman's voice sounded almost like my mother's, but when she laughed, I wasn't so sure. I tried climbing the rope to see if I could hear better on different levels, but the voices were just as hard to understand everywhere. Suddenly they were quiet, and then Elvis started singing. He was so loud and sounded differently than I was used to him sounding. I went back to my trumpet, grabbed it and lay perfectly still, terrified. He sang "I Can't Help Falling In Love With You" and it sounded like it was coming from everywhere. I closed my eyes and tried to disappear. Then came "Are You Lonesome Tonight?" followed by "Love Me Tender." I thought I heard the faint sounds of a lady somewhere crying or something. Elvis introduced "Unchained Melody," sang a few bars and then abruptly stopped. The house was silent.

I lay there, heart jumping in my chest. I knew I had to move, but I couldn't. I lay there a long time and then sprung into action. I left the sandwich plate behind and shimmied up the rope, clutching my trumpet, heart jumping, running through the crawlspace to my room. I placed the trumpet safely on my bed and pulled on shorts and a t-shirt, and then back through the crawlspace, sliding down the rope, burning my hands, leaping through the basement with no regard for dead mice or salamanders. I climbed out the basement window.

There was a baseball bat lying in my backyard and I grabbed it, clutching it white-knuckled, leaning against the back wall of my house, trying to control my breathing. Deep breaths. I leaned against my house, clutching the baseball bat and I breathed, trying to calm myself down. I looked at the grass, the house, the sky. The light told me it was around six o'clock. I had been sleeping longer than I thought. My heart stopped jumping so much. I loosened my grip a bit on the bat and I walked to the front door. Bracing myself, I expected to be greeted by a grotesque apparition of The King, ready to crush me in his inhuman hands. I opened the door. There was no one there. I walked in cautiously.

My mother was sitting at the dining room table drinking a glass of wine. She looked through me, and then focused on my face. "Where have you been?" And before I could answer. "Where are your shoes?" I realized I was barefoot and my feet were cut and dirty. I shrugged. I asked her if she had heard Elvis singing. She said she didn't know what I was talking about. Then: "You shouldn't bring that baseball bat into the house," after me as I walked upstairs.

That wasn't the only time The Ghost of Elvis appeared to me....


The rest of this will appear here or somewhere else in the near future.


In the nearer future, however, another poem - perhaps a proper one this time - will be here tomorrow...
In the meantime, check out April 4th's poem from last year.

April 3rd - Cicadas

Nine of Diamonds - Cicadas
4 - Ruba'i


Shoot The Poet (One Sick Stanza)

We came of age one night in spring
Impromptu queens and sudden kings
Cicadas surfaced, mated, beat their tymbals
We shed our skins and sprouted wings

The touch of youth like crashing cymbals
We coyly stroked eachother's dimples
Oblivious to buzzing having gone
We always thought it would stay simple

The world looks different at dawn
Another generation spawned
As children pick up shells we left behind
We burrow deep inside our lawns

And tie ourselves with earthy binds
But lo, the dirt's comfort is kind
All nymphs: asleep in their burial mounds
The plodding clock: it winds and winds

Could it be time to come unbound?
The world above is filled with sounds
Imagining, or do I hear us sing?
The end of living underground


Poem coming here tomorrow...
In the meantime, check out April 3rd's poem from last year.

April 2nd - Falling In Love On The T

Queen of Spades - Falling In Love On The T
16 - Tweet Length

Falling In Love On The T

Among the bustle and the quiet
I look at you, sidelong
- your reflection -
In scuffed plexiglass


Another poem coming here tomorrow...
In the meantime, check out April 2nd's poem from last year.

April 1st - Mitsuwa

Ten of Diamonds - Mitsuwa
15 - Acrostic




Oyako-Don (From Mitsuwa Food Court Picture Window)


It's translated as "mother and child over rice:"
Salmon mama and unborn salmon baby
Helpless
In a decorative dish

It's -
Delicious!

Eggs explode between my teeth
Salty slime on my soft palate, sliding
Under my tongue

No cries from the mother - in pieces - as I
Eat her children








Another poem coming here tomorrow...
In the meantime, check out April 1st's poem from last year.

National Poetry Month 2011

It's National Manatee Awareness Month once again! I'm not sure what started the trend of associating a month with a particular charity or subculture, but it has gotten pretty out of control. One designation for April that is missing from this list - overshadowed I guess by National Soft Pretzel Month - is National Poetry Month.

Last year  I participated, writing a new poem every day in April and it was a success! Well, as much of a success as something that takes up all of my free time and generates no income can be. So I'm doing it agian.

For the next 30 days I will write and post a new poem determined by the following randomizing system: I have a deck of cards and a twenty sided die. Each card is assigned a topic and each side a form. In the morning I will draw a card and roll the die, and then, using the randomly selected topic and form, write and post the poem here before I go to sleep.

The list of topics is as follows:

RULE CARD WILD CARD
JOKER WILD CARD

2C Progress

2D Potential Energy

2S Phantom limbs

2H Noble lies

3C Quails

3D Abortion Protesters

3S Octopuses

3H Bonfires

4C Before Pictures

4D Conks

4S Scratch Tickets

4H Komodo Dragons

5C David Icke

5D Thomas Kinkade

5S Silly Bandz

5H Schadenfreude

6C Two Girls, One Cup

6D Two Brains, One Skull

6S A Random TED Talk

6H Crying on the Internet

7C El Trains

7D The Dead Sea

7S Wooden Escalators

7H The Scott Kazmir Trade

8C Zombies

8D The Hundred Flowers Campaign

8S Meteors/Meteorites

8H Invisible People

9C Dead Dogs

9D Cicadas

9S Whaling Ships

9H Resident Ghosts

10C Big Pete/Little Pete

10D Mitsuwa

10S Rooftops

10H Underage 'X's

JC Character sketch of a Starbucks regular

JD My Girlfriend's Toothbrush

JS Man Vs. Food

JH Magazine Street

QC Love Hotel Hill (Shibuya)

QD “Ravishing” Rick Rude

QS Falling in Love on the T

QH Mitochondrial DNA

KC Sadaharu Oh

KD Fat Elvis

KS Righteous Gentiles

KH Suicide

AC Apocalyptic Dreams

AD Sophomore Slumps

AS Sudden Enlightenment

AH Victories (small)

JOKER WILD CARD

JOKER WILD CARD
(I don't know why there are three jokers in this deck) 

And the forms:

1 Prose

2 Haiku

3 Shakespearean Sonnet

4 Ruba'i

5 Sestina

6 Blank Verse

7 Craigslist Missed Connection 

8 Free Verse

9 Hip-Hopera (except)

10 Free Verse

11 Petrarchan Sonnet

12 Limerick

13 Dialogue

14 Rondeau

15 Acrostic

16 Tweet Length

17 Sapphic Ode

18 Beat Poem

19 Bruce Springsteen Song

20 Any Above Form

 

Caveats:

- I will follow the system everyday even if it means I have to write a Ruba'i about Two Girls, One Cup.

- Once a topic is used, it will not be put back in the deck.

- On rare occasions, some re-rolling may be necessary. I will adhere to the guidelines of this project as much as is realistic, but I'm not about to write 25 sestinas this month.

- Question: Can the Craigslist Missed Connection really be considered a poetic form? Answer: Chill out, Robert Pinsky. I could use this space to argue yes, citing the deterioration of "poetry" as it relates to the death of the monoculture, but I don't need to, because I have full creative control here.

- Like last year, it's a safe bet that you'll find a good bunch of doggerel on this site, but maybe a nugget of gold or two, we'll see.

Thanks to those who participated with topic suggestions. I'll try to do them justice.

Enjoy and thanks for reading!