http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WC6p_h2OFCY

Here's my performance from February 9, 2009's Stoop Storytelling at CenterStage.

I just finished writing this. No chance to edit. Tell me what you think.



Lunatic

I see
her eyes
reflecting
from the quartered
moon shining on
my grinning
forehead
as I trudge
around long
suburban
blocks thinking
of nothing
nothing
nothing
but her

I cock
my head & see
her grinning
back at me
& laugh aloud
at how silly I sound
in silence in
darkness broken
only by pinpricks
poked by stars
& that inimitable
grin reflecting
her eyes
upon me

I stuff my hands
in my pockets
for fear that
I will wave
my arms like mad
and be dragged
away: a lunatic
whose love
for the moon
is mistaken
for madness

October 5, 2008

My editing on The Novel is almost complete. I have only 42 pages left out of 269 to go through, and tha last fifth or so of the manuscript needs the least amount of work. As such, this is likely to be the last poem in this series, and I can go back to writing new stuff.

   If you've enjoyed the small cross-section of poetry this week, don't fret. My catalog of poetry is fairly large, and I'm sure I will have ample opportunity to share more with you in the near future. Also, I will be focusing on poetry during an upcoming workshop, so I will be writing new stuff soon too. Until then:

Memory

memory

A young boy watching
through frosted glass
an icicle in pain
an insensitive sun
tiny tear after tiny tear
men don't cry
an icicle is not a man

memory

A young man staring
at broken glass
that 'lost love' pain
"You're too sensitive son
She's not worth your tiny tears
Men don't cry"
I am not a man

memory

A young male watching
though a fresh pair of glasses
so-called men feel no pain
millions of insensitive sons
haven't shed a tear in years
men don't cry
I'm glad I am not a man

(1992)

So here we are. Day three. The editing is going well enough. I've noticed, however, that the poems I've posted so far have been, shall I say, a bit on the dark side. ¿What can I say? I am the kid that sees the things most refuse to see—the dark cloud to every silver lining.
But just to show I'm not just a harbinger of gloom, I trawled through my hard drive to find something a bit more uplifting. The poem I had in mind wasn't there. I'll have to dig through my hard copies and post it another time. I did find an unfinished poem with potential. I polished it up a bit, but methinks it still has the patina of rawness to it. It'll have to do.

the Bigger the Bang

You
walked
in from the next store
& I was happy
it was you having
eyed
you myself earlier
that day—that day
I noticed I didn't know
you but wanted to
that day I tried to catch your eye
& caught nothing but your crown

That moment you
stepped
through that door I was sure
that our atoms had once
brushed
against each other during
the birth of the Cosmos
my electrons momentarily
pulled
into your outermost shell
our quivering quarks trying
to touch
our strings trying
to bind

I had been waiting to feel
you again ever since

Our near miss at the record
store-separated from you by nothing
more than pressboard, veneer
& 12 inches of new order
true faith
(the morning sun)
closer to you than I
had been since we first
poured
forth from the stars
too far to see you
too soon to matter
too lost to care

It should be no surprise
that once we finally did
collide
the sparks spread like raw rice
at our feet, the power
of the impact shaking
the roots of the universe
with enough force left
to unseat the world and have it
succumb to Our gravity

Could we expect anything
less once Destiny
set
our orbits on
converging trajectories?
The Universe should
count
its lucky stars
that our power
didn't mar Creation
but only
tested Its
fluidity & flexibility

If you caught yesterday's post, you know I won't be writing anything new until I finish editing The Novel. This one I wrote for a class at the University of Baltimore when I was studying under the marvelous Kendra Kopelke. If I remember correctly, she didn't much like the "reptile belly" part, but I was too enamored of the internal alliteraton to revise it. What do you think?
   By the way, if you like this poem, or poetry in general, I encourage you to read and comment on the small catalog of poems I've posted here thus far. I will be focusing on poetry during my next workshop, and I'd appreciate your input.

Ceremony

Winter slithers its ice-blooded
reptile belly over my feet
slices at my toes - I do a little
dance, my Ritual: tight fists balled
around my thumbs, thrust
deep in my pockets, shuffle
left, shuffle right, shuffle left
throwing my face at the
drizzling spittle
of a malevolent sky.

The sky has a grey soul
today. No mercy.
I understand the winter
sky for I too have been separated
from my sun; I know her pain
her fury, burning frigid. I too
have spit on the world.

It is a bone brittle
winter day on a bus
stop in SoWeBo
and I wish I could feel
my toes again. I wish
there was snow on the ground
to calm me. I wish
I were blanketed
in someone's embrace.
But I do not wish that
the sky would cease.
The sky has her rites
& I have mine.

Okay folx, I'll be spending the week attempting to finish the edit on my novel, Forever, Lilith. But I realize I've been on a bit of a roll here, and not wanting to neglect the little bit of audience I've accumulated I've decided to use this opportunity to post some of my catalog of poems. Since I've been feeling so socially conscious lately, this seems like a good place to start. ¡See ya'll with a new poem mañana!

can your eyes not see the tragedy that my eyes see or are they too caught up in your tv's, your dvd's, your psp's, your myspaceys & your i-phoneys that they are blind to what surrounds you, or are you just too afraid of the truth you'll see: our metropolis dreams turned necropolis screams where the dead prowl the streets scavenging for bits of eat, blowing gravel off our half-chewed gutter discards, drinking that flat backwash contaminated splash of tepid pisswater we tossed into that trashcan, numbing their minds with that poison they buy with the few pennies we provide if only they will hide again from our sullied sights, retreat to their cardboard palaces, their city heated steam vents, their billboard park benches coated in newspaper they can't even read; where the dying left behind child runs wild on our meanest streets spying for his dope and gun slinging paper heroes, fouling out on concrete coated rock courts, holy grail blazing a path he hopes leads to our white castles that ignore his plight, not knowing that he is in a labyrinth leading only into the walls that separate the dying from the dead he will join in his ghetto mausoleum without our hands to pull him free; where the falling fall for the freedom they sought for themselves, freedom now forced & foisted upon foreigners too afraid to fight for or find for themselves, our young falling for lies of free rides to higher education & higher living when their only guarantee is a free ride as air freight in flag-draped corpse boxes back home where they can be forever free to rot under our feet? can your eyes not see? or are you too afraid to stare at the eclipse too long, afraid that your eyes will melt in the bright white hot glowing pain shining through our soul shadows, blocking our sons, our daughters, our fathers & mothers, sisters & brothers, dead & dying as we reap & eat the fruit that grows from the slow flowing clots of their blood?

This posting was originally published  in March, 2006 and was inspired by a blog entry posted by Jon Platner, managing editor of plannedparenthood.org. I decided to dig it up and repost it since it's an issue relevent to the Presidential Campaign.

..First off, let me start by saying that I'm generally against the act of abortion. It's usually a grisly form of birth control for young ladies that either don't know or don't care enough about effective, non-invasive, birth control; or for those who accidentally get pregnant when their birth control of choice fails. I think we can all agree, ProChoice or ProLife, that abortions offer a sad look at the state of contemporary society. I do, however, believe in the right of women to choose an abortion if they deem it necessary.

That said, I also recognize that banning abortions at this point in history would be an utter and unmitigated disaster. Returning to the a time when women have to travel to states where they were legal, where doctors have to break the law to help a girl in need, or where abortions are performed by potential quacks in underground operating rooms is unwarranted and cruel. Fortunately, even with today's more conservative makeup of the Supreme Court, the majority of justices currently seated would not strike down Roe v. Wade.

(Cute joke:
Q: What did Bush say when asked what his feelings were on Roe versus Wade?
A: Well ummm I don't care whether people row OR wade to get out of New Orleans, as long as they get out safely. )

The real question is, what can we do about abortion that can be effective in reducing the sheer numbers while not criminalizing an act that is so personal and, in many cases, traumatic for the woman having one? There are some simple answers.

First, the government has to promote an age appropriate Sex Education program that teaches the big picture, both birth control and abstinence. Our children need to understand that they do not have to give in to the pressures of having sex at an early age, but they need to know that if they do they should be armed with the knowledge of what birth control is available to them and its effectiveness.

Second, the government has to guarantee that ALL women have access to ALL forms of birth control. That means the morning after pill. That means RU486. And if that means passing laws stating that Walmart or whatever pharmacy CAN NOT turn away any female requesting birth control, so be it.

Ultimately however, reducing abortions in this country really comes down to a joining of minds from both sides of the issue. Lifers have to realize that abortion is a reality that may never be deemed immoral by all aspects of society. Choicers have to realize that the reduction in the number of abortions, still a risky procedure, is a more noble cause than the protection of such a sad right. Imagine the progress that could be made if we put our signs down and lift our voices, in unison, for a better way.