Wednesday, November 30, 2005
What’s Wrong With Your Rock And Roll Star
That John Lennon Can't Fix
Ted Nugent used to be so cool,
now he’s just a fool.
We’re all going that way.
Michael Jackson’s moved to Bahrain,
no man is an island
until a continent disowns him.
Marilyn Manson shows off his man boobs
and then his Mongoloid ass
to kindergarten class.
Paul thinks he’s the equal of John,
he should have died when he was barefoot
crossing Abbey Road.
What’s wrong with your rock and roll star,
disarm him as soon as you can,
cut the strings from his guitar.
He’s got cat scratch fever,
he can’t beat it, he’s no Marilyn Monroe,
if the long and winding road didn’t kill him
what the hell are we gonna do?
John, of course, would have none of this
and gave peace a chance.
What's wrong with your rock and roll star?
That John Lennon Can't Fix
Ted Nugent used to be so cool,
now he’s just a fool.
We’re all going that way.
Michael Jackson’s moved to Bahrain,
no man is an island
until a continent disowns him.
Marilyn Manson shows off his man boobs
and then his Mongoloid ass
to kindergarten class.
Paul thinks he’s the equal of John,
he should have died when he was barefoot
crossing Abbey Road.
What’s wrong with your rock and roll star,
disarm him as soon as you can,
cut the strings from his guitar.
He’s got cat scratch fever,
he can’t beat it, he’s no Marilyn Monroe,
if the long and winding road didn’t kill him
what the hell are we gonna do?
John, of course, would have none of this
and gave peace a chance.
What's wrong with your rock and roll star?
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Website Launch
Hello Everyone,
I just launched my official website which includes a selection of my photographic work. Please visit - feedback welcome....
Shin Yu
I just launched my official website which includes a selection of my photographic work. Please visit - feedback welcome....
Shin Yu
Drexel Sunday
for Michelle Bowling
the following day
was so cold
that there were two ways
of thinking
yet many people thought
humph
there could be
a third way
a new
way
to look at things
although
this quickly turned
to much biblical
references
and bouts with
major
absenteeism
on the part of the select
few
who were now
not where
they often were
thus the impression
the crowd
shifted
so much so
that the common
stream
of the usual
and discussed
futures
and sometimes
discussed pasts
were set aside
for the time being
replaced by
where did they go
these leaders
as if they were
really wanted
when they were
around
but now
there was no other way
to think
other than
something
was really fishy
so much so
that certain people
decided
then and there
to move away
for good
so they took
what they could carry
thinking
pets should be their guide
to substantiate
certain items
by what the animals
slept on
or slept through
or chewed on
to get their attention
while a few
families
urged the others
to take to mourning
the common
lot
of being
reintroduced
all over
again
once the weather
improved
the following day
was so cold
that there were two ways
of thinking
yet many people thought
humph
there could be
a third way
a new
way
to look at things
although
this quickly turned
to much biblical
references
and bouts with
major
absenteeism
on the part of the select
few
who were now
not where
they often were
thus the impression
the crowd
shifted
so much so
that the common
stream
of the usual
and discussed
futures
and sometimes
discussed pasts
were set aside
for the time being
replaced by
where did they go
these leaders
as if they were
really wanted
when they were
around
but now
there was no other way
to think
other than
something
was really fishy
so much so
that certain people
decided
then and there
to move away
for good
so they took
what they could carry
thinking
pets should be their guide
to substantiate
certain items
by what the animals
slept on
or slept through
or chewed on
to get their attention
while a few
families
urged the others
to take to mourning
the common
lot
of being
reintroduced
all over
again
once the weather
improved
Monday, November 28, 2005
Jenny's Prayer
I burned a candle today
and as the room filled
with a soapy smell, clean
I remembered you. Your
smooth chocolate chocolate
chip milkshake skin, ribbon
candy nails and neatly pressed
dresses with pockets bigger
than my chest.
Hot soapy washcloths
at your bathroom sink.
You showed me, told me
wash behind your ears,
clean before dinner.
Now I lay me down to sleep
At your table I sat, small
before an empty plate, yellow plastic cup.
Watching you through the door
careful and exact in the kitchen,
brown beans and rice
sliced long fried bananas
in the pan. The back of your
dress swayed like love as you went from
counter to stove, stove to counter,
in between wiping your hands on
a dish towel tucked to your waist.
I give the lord my soul to keep
Your couch was wrapped in plastic.
I wanted to take it off, feel the fabric
underneath, it looked like gold, but you
reminded me how we take care of things.
How we take off our shoes at the door
and fold the washcloths drape them over
the side of the sink. But it was cold on the back
of my legs, and I never lost the facination
of wanting to feel the fabric on
my skin or following zipper tracks to
see where it where began.
If I should die before I wake
Clean before bed, warm soap, brush
your teeth. You taught me to kneel
in front of the bed, fold my hands and close
my eyes. Learn words I didn't understand.
Then tucked me in and said goodnight.
I give the lord my soul to take
I was safe as your temporary
child with this permanent skin
of mine. I was clean vanilla. You
were indifferent.
Michelle M. Buchanan Nov 27, 2005
and as the room filled
with a soapy smell, clean
I remembered you. Your
smooth chocolate chocolate
chip milkshake skin, ribbon
candy nails and neatly pressed
dresses with pockets bigger
than my chest.
Hot soapy washcloths
at your bathroom sink.
You showed me, told me
wash behind your ears,
clean before dinner.
Now I lay me down to sleep
At your table I sat, small
before an empty plate, yellow plastic cup.
Watching you through the door
careful and exact in the kitchen,
brown beans and rice
sliced long fried bananas
in the pan. The back of your
dress swayed like love as you went from
counter to stove, stove to counter,
in between wiping your hands on
a dish towel tucked to your waist.
I give the lord my soul to keep
Your couch was wrapped in plastic.
I wanted to take it off, feel the fabric
underneath, it looked like gold, but you
reminded me how we take care of things.
How we take off our shoes at the door
and fold the washcloths drape them over
the side of the sink. But it was cold on the back
of my legs, and I never lost the facination
of wanting to feel the fabric on
my skin or following zipper tracks to
see where it where began.
If I should die before I wake
Clean before bed, warm soap, brush
your teeth. You taught me to kneel
in front of the bed, fold my hands and close
my eyes. Learn words I didn't understand.
Then tucked me in and said goodnight.
I give the lord my soul to take
I was safe as your temporary
child with this permanent skin
of mine. I was clean vanilla. You
were indifferent.
Michelle M. Buchanan Nov 27, 2005
Saturday, November 26, 2005
Thanksgiving morning
Snow's on the ground
and the plows rumble by in the dead of the night.
Under blankets, we're warm.
We cover our eyes against the coming of light
and the start of this day,
this day of our feast, and the pretense of joy
amid their unabashed bliss,
the daughters who'll sing and play with the boy
as if he was theirs,
a jewel to be won, and a jewell to be worn.
Soon their voices will drum
against my solitude, and then I'll be torn
from this bed and this home.
Why measure despair with family and friends?
Why measure at all?
Because reader dearest, all means have their ends.
and the plows rumble by in the dead of the night.
Under blankets, we're warm.
We cover our eyes against the coming of light
and the start of this day,
this day of our feast, and the pretense of joy
amid their unabashed bliss,
the daughters who'll sing and play with the boy
as if he was theirs,
a jewel to be won, and a jewell to be worn.
Soon their voices will drum
against my solitude, and then I'll be torn
from this bed and this home.
Why measure despair with family and friends?
Why measure at all?
Because reader dearest, all means have their ends.
Friday, November 25, 2005
poems going to the IBPC this month - Pris picked them for us
el culo de bettie by Lyle Daggett
The way to the centre by Jill Chan
Bone by Michelle Buchanen
The way to the centre by Jill Chan
Bone by Michelle Buchanen
The Most Intriguing (and Sensual) Male Poets of 2006 calendar is out!
The calendar sizzles with photos and poems from twelve fantastic poets! All proceeds to to CFIDS research.
Go to my blog link for details.
Go to my blog link for details.
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Melvin the Cantaloupe
Hello Didi and all,
I am hoping for more regular posting again in the near future. In the meantime, I think that the three most recent posts here (http://asianamericanpoetry.blogspot.com/) may be worthwhile. Thanks, and hope you're having a happy Thanksgiving holiday!
I am hoping for more regular posting again in the near future. In the meantime, I think that the three most recent posts here (http://asianamericanpoetry.blogspot.com/) may be worthwhile. Thanks, and hope you're having a happy Thanksgiving holiday!
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
IBPC
Hey - I have not sent in any poems to the competition in a while. Anyone want to volunteer to pick three poems posted on the blog in November to send in for me?
Sevens
Wake to drown--slipping
in the tub. Dead, sevens
floating round your head
and I lost count--seven--seven--
seven--you lost count--seven--seven.
The shower curtain came down too,
wrapped us in a clear mold,
the drain swallowing your hair--
seven--seven--seven. Sleep
dear, forget the dreams
let the cold water drain, frail
body fallen--I'll soap you,
if you soap me. Red curlicues
dangling, sucked through.
Kerry James Evans
in the tub. Dead, sevens
floating round your head
and I lost count--seven--seven--
seven--you lost count--seven--seven.
The shower curtain came down too,
wrapped us in a clear mold,
the drain swallowing your hair--
seven--seven--seven. Sleep
dear, forget the dreams
let the cold water drain, frail
body fallen--I'll soap you,
if you soap me. Red curlicues
dangling, sucked through.
Kerry James Evans
In History
(the last poem from a new manuscript, ESKELETONADA ~ LDC)
~~~~~~~~~
IN HISTORY
Gone good
hated quiet
hated ways
distancing wind
violet warrior
grim still
what flowers
a branch of peace
stuck determination
mouth contain weather
were withered daring
and arcing these
given find fly this
watching were them
think fence further
each other hummingbird
snapdragons now
when summer ended
now and are umber.
~~~~~~~~~
IN HISTORY
Gone good
hated quiet
hated ways
distancing wind
violet warrior
grim still
what flowers
a branch of peace
stuck determination
mouth contain weather
were withered daring
and arcing these
given find fly this
watching were them
think fence further
each other hummingbird
snapdragons now
when summer ended
now and are umber.
The Ride
the end of all expressions
mark themselves
as the lurches toward the admired
let go
from human beings
she scraps this look before the gathering roads
shade her from
her one machine
either act stands to rejoice
as a part from walking
hand in hand
among the abandoned
over the dreamed
mark themselves
as the lurches toward the admired
let go
from human beings
she scraps this look before the gathering roads
shade her from
her one machine
either act stands to rejoice
as a part from walking
hand in hand
among the abandoned
over the dreamed
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
El culo de Bettie (from an earlier poem challenge)
The first time I found Cafe Cafe was when the poem challenge was going on to write a poem titled El Culo de Bettie. I wasn't a member of the blog at that point, and didn't write a poem for the challenge then, but the notion hung around in my mind, and I finally decided to attempt one. Not for the previous challenge contest, obviously, but just to write one.
This is the most ambitious effort I've attempted writing in original Spanish. I'm not fluent by any means. If anyone spots any basic errors in grammar, etc., please feel free to point them out. This apart from anything else about the poem, of course. -- Thanks.
el culo de bettie
el culo de bettie — ¿dónde está?
the moon is a bull shouldered and grunting in the field.
el narciso tan rubio de valor.
touching the cup of the morning,
las manos de bettie, ¿por cuándo?
yesterday, tomorrow, i will see you, i have seen you,
fresca y azul — hace mucho tiempo.
tiny fireflies of ice
tocan las campanas del aire encendido.
in your eyes you offer secrets
de las olas ocultas del mar,
a dance of wind, the wings of your name.
baile conmigo me dices, ¡tan claro!
i call out to you and you are somewhere and sometime
y fuente de calor y puente de palabras.
the question of questions, who are you,
¿quién eres?, la misma de bettie tú misma,
you answer speaking dawnlight and nightfall,
caminando en aurora de cual y cualquiera,
moving my feet on the drum of the shifting earth,
sombra a sombra bettie el canto el susurro de tí,
shadow by shadow calling out your histories of light.
This is the most ambitious effort I've attempted writing in original Spanish. I'm not fluent by any means. If anyone spots any basic errors in grammar, etc., please feel free to point them out. This apart from anything else about the poem, of course. -- Thanks.
el culo de bettie
el culo de bettie — ¿dónde está?
the moon is a bull shouldered and grunting in the field.
el narciso tan rubio de valor.
touching the cup of the morning,
las manos de bettie, ¿por cuándo?
yesterday, tomorrow, i will see you, i have seen you,
fresca y azul — hace mucho tiempo.
tiny fireflies of ice
tocan las campanas del aire encendido.
in your eyes you offer secrets
de las olas ocultas del mar,
a dance of wind, the wings of your name.
baile conmigo me dices, ¡tan claro!
i call out to you and you are somewhere and sometime
y fuente de calor y puente de palabras.
the question of questions, who are you,
¿quién eres?, la misma de bettie tú misma,
you answer speaking dawnlight and nightfall,
caminando en aurora de cual y cualquiera,
moving my feet on the drum of the shifting earth,
sombra a sombra bettie el canto el susurro de tí,
shadow by shadow calling out your histories of light.
Sweet Water
The first snow is falling
already I am missing
the water
sweet water,
sweet water I am
your human fish,
devour me
lap upon my chin
my lips, deep breaths
take me down
to the bottom
you make me small
and it is so
beautifully quiet in you
here, I breathe
already I am missing
the water
sweet water,
sweet water I am
your human fish,
devour me
lap upon my chin
my lips, deep breaths
take me down
to the bottom
you make me small
and it is so
beautifully quiet in you
here, I breathe
pROMpt
The lining on my storebought safe is prompt
Your etiquette is prompt
Divination upholds its reputation for seeming saline prompt
If I could hold you in my arms I would be prompt
Ever say things to yourself about the borderlines of justice
What does safety have to do with divination when rules in general retreat
The held momentum of a reputation in various saline solutions
Promise me you will have held me in your arms by the time the safe is closed
The fraulein of most copious dimension aggravates hypotheses
No one has made a claim that rivals excavation
"In the scheme of things" plays slowly on ingenious nerves
The nevermind of quasi pique occurs the ampersand
Meridia go easy on opposing traffic patterns
Have you been rivering through beads of like
The margins have been spun in gold finagle
Champion a cause that marks up wrinkles during flight
Your etiquette is prompt
Divination upholds its reputation for seeming saline prompt
If I could hold you in my arms I would be prompt
Ever say things to yourself about the borderlines of justice
What does safety have to do with divination when rules in general retreat
The held momentum of a reputation in various saline solutions
Promise me you will have held me in your arms by the time the safe is closed
The fraulein of most copious dimension aggravates hypotheses
No one has made a claim that rivals excavation
"In the scheme of things" plays slowly on ingenious nerves
The nevermind of quasi pique occurs the ampersand
Meridia go easy on opposing traffic patterns
Have you been rivering through beads of like
The margins have been spun in gold finagle
Champion a cause that marks up wrinkles during flight
Monday, November 21, 2005
The Way To The Centre
When you wake
you’ll think of the things you couldn’t say
Listen to the rain
in your voice
Words are bound
to fall
I tell you
the story about distances
their
gentle removal
If words are roads
then tell me why they confuse the way
blind to the sights
of silence
ever walking away
from that which keeps me here
you’ll think of the things you couldn’t say
Listen to the rain
in your voice
Words are bound
to fall
I tell you
the story about distances
their
gentle removal
If words are roads
then tell me why they confuse the way
blind to the sights
of silence
ever walking away
from that which keeps me here
Saturday, November 19, 2005
broken'toothwheel"
squatted conceive chairing
direct forge'd
just "greater puncture
that crap that was crap
it said exceeding gray below"
spills extracted used) stench (mephitis)
way," (never that comes this
(s) alternative table "structure porta-potty
night," smell outside here each
dry'd "no, (lity) dozen eucalyptus
in excess as the stable
that (form) the pyracantha berries
help it," stock card "cannot
fan supply shit human being
from the moved away dab
incline sitting down way," to
it all the dragged) "pushing
reacts (if they fact examination
steady structure) inside foot (no
one examples stump edges (o)
is it 'tresses the way"
part ankle, in mush back
shoe way mouth twisted low
never comes this way that
to come this "it remained
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