Nat'l Poetry Month Day 9: Somewhere Being Shaped

Somewhere being shaped
In the smear I see through windows

Can your blue light be collected
For the nights when I'm rejected
(From your mother of pearl party)
Or possibly be reflected
And your image be projected-
And escape my personal gravity?
Doubtful.

I've been gathering ideas like
Cranberries
Floating in the tear bogs
They sink,
Crashing not a moment too soon
Chipping away all scabs which
Resemble not the moon
The speed of this madness
Can chip at nothing more
The speed of this madness
No clouds can obscure

Nat'l Poetry Month Day 8: Ode to Emperor James Wargwal

Every line of this is taken from a web of 4 unrelated simultaneous conversations that never intersected, blended to create as linear a perspective as possible.

I mean, we still talk
I can't say anything because
- ugh -
but we still talk.
He talks about it,
he's a lot like James
I thought it was his sister
This is my limit
If you found the right person,
and it's on a school night
he's gonna go back
Maybe he did,
you didn't catch it
If you found the right person

It's beginning to freak me out,
Every 4-6 months we have the same conversation
St. Elmo's Fire was not romantic
They were both cheating on each other
They never got back together at the end.

I was thinking about-
reverberate-
four-inch utopia.
His entire leg is a scythe
I've seen a lot of pictures on his forearm
It looks like it went through his neck
He was like the emperor Wargwal

I know I have a Lord
of the Rings tattoo
I don't live by it
Gandalf writes a letter
I don't live by it
I'm not gonna cast it and block it
That new one-drop devil
Gimmicks of ISI
In the first book
They do sacrifice
If you found the right person

Nat'l Poetry Month Day 7: Outerthoughts

The outerthoughts
food for the bees that drone
Capturing velocity-
like whipping cream-
They want to crack the bone.
The shielded shieldproof-
insulated from echoes-
The echoes are their own
Carrying stowaway vacancy-
hungry bees untethered-
They eat through the foam

Insects inter-tied,
Staid and stale
Buzzing somehow on days that'll pass
for days.

Insects inter-tied
Form dream catchers
Rotted, brittle
Makes for easy sleep
Should one of them fly away

Nat'l Poetry Month Day 6: It Happens Every Day

Certain words, phrases, expressions, etc have been rendered meaningless to me, whether by overuse or too frequent improper/loose use. These are words and phrases I have to spend an extra immeasurable fraction of a second to think hard about to consciously acknowledge them as meaning anything at all. I came up with a list of them off the top of my head (and with a little help from the blogs on the Phoenix New Times) and arranged them into a poem. These are by no means universal, so if you're looking at this as a fun list of overused words and phrases that we can all agree upon, you may be disappointed.

It Happens Every Day

Only the young
live every day to the
bank
You've just gotta feel it

Just the facts
made for tv

Live life
Live your life
Wasting time
Killing me

Whole life
90% perspiration
Killing me

Buy one get one
bella undocumented

Blast books
Dysfunctional
Rock opera

Darkly comedic vultures
transformation
Proactive urban street culture
Department of Transportation
I'll handle it
Leave me alone

Nat'l Poetry Month Day 5: Balance Sheet

Mining the past for inspiration a bit. This is about my earliest memory of exhibiting OCD behavior. Not surprisingly, it was right after I discovered Tetris for Gameboy in 4th grade.

Jostled between comforts by adult choices
My consequence-free mind swings
Chaos
out the window,
Harassment
within,
To escape rippling pavement and frantic voices
Not to repose, but reverie with wings
Jagged infinity
out the window,
Dissection
within,
I close my eyes and look down.

Toes are reverse-center, fanned
Assigned each a piano key
Keys begin to glide into entropy
I sit, standing guard at the helm
Baton glued to my hands
Fingers figure eight into oblivious

Now

The keys are assigned the wrong letter
I type in my diary anyway
And read it the next day

This was my first breeze felt between joints
My closest hunt for the weather-vane that points
From the gaping mouth whose pleasures
Demand Right and Left in equal measures

Nat'l Poetry Month Day 4: Wormlegs.

right here
quietly made for
were once marinated, flavored, accompanied.
All previous steps unseen
supposed to follow
But alone now.
could have experienced unknown shades of
hue makes independent and
Makes for re-full
replete with
On the menu.

Nat'l Poetry Month Days 1-3: Drifty Drift

II

When I can't hear your you
And your "you're you" sentences,
You
make sensen't
And I
make sensen'tces.
If only
The Innocence of Paper could exist
A farm of options optional boundaries,
And survivor of these alternatives foundries
Wearing those letters
Wouldn't be
Being those letters
Paper couldn't rob someone of their sincerity
And someone else of their meaning

I

Paper paid for paper's porous chorus.
Selfless absorbed, scorned
Printed
Branded
Blameless
Action-heavy, meaning thrift
Words are sudden drift

III

"Is this a record or
A toilet?"
Meaning approaches center
Why didn't I start listening
Before flipping side 2?