Listening to Joanna Newsom
There is a sacred ribbon
with your voice on it,
and when I imagine
tugging this cinta
back and forth
between my ears,
I am on the floor,
eyes rolled back,
top teeth sticking out
for a grin.
You may make your ribbon
into a clothesline,
if you like,
and I will be your ropa sucia,
hanging as a gentle breeze
blows me
in the direction
of a nearby maizal.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Family poem
One night my grandma came back to life
One night grandma came back to life
and grandpa, too.
Their now-emptied house was once again filled
with relatives, life, memories,
the dark wood paneling!
the secret door in the brick wall!
leading me to that chest of old
children’s books and stuffed animals from forty years ago.
The next night we sat together,
grandma and grandpa and I.
I could not help but ask
what it was like to be dead.
They looked at me with confusion,
and at that moment my love for them was so tender.
The next night grandpa died again,
and grandma’s friend, too.
I watched her sit alone
In the middle of a room.
The next night I went back to the house,
but they weren’t there.
The bearded man asked me to get off his property.
One night grandma came back to life
and grandpa, too.
Their now-emptied house was once again filled
with relatives, life, memories,
the dark wood paneling!
the secret door in the brick wall!
leading me to that chest of old
children’s books and stuffed animals from forty years ago.
The next night we sat together,
grandma and grandpa and I.
I could not help but ask
what it was like to be dead.
They looked at me with confusion,
and at that moment my love for them was so tender.
The next night grandpa died again,
and grandma’s friend, too.
I watched her sit alone
In the middle of a room.
The next night I went back to the house,
but they weren’t there.
The bearded man asked me to get off his property.
Soto poem
At a happy gathering
At a happy gathering,
while both making
and taking my rounds,
my girl pulls me
into the laundry closet.
From both surprise
and drink,
I cannot help but giggle
as she planted her lips
all around my neck,
and, as she left
to return to her game of
ball-in-a-cup,
I was left with a warm feeling
forming in my belly
and spreading across my chest.
Could this be…
some kind of magic closet??
I dash back,
pulling all kinds of girls
into the “secret closet”
in hopes that the dark,
confined area
will do its thing,
but instead the door bursts open,
and reveals a drunken, giggling pile
of me and three or four girls.
At a happy gathering,
while both making
and taking my rounds,
my girl pulls me
into the laundry closet.
From both surprise
and drink,
I cannot help but giggle
as she planted her lips
all around my neck,
and, as she left
to return to her game of
ball-in-a-cup,
I was left with a warm feeling
forming in my belly
and spreading across my chest.
Could this be…
some kind of magic closet??
I dash back,
pulling all kinds of girls
into the “secret closet”
in hopes that the dark,
confined area
will do its thing,
but instead the door bursts open,
and reveals a drunken, giggling pile
of me and three or four girls.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Poem revision
The Belly of a Clam
“…The wind picks up the breath of my armpits/Like dust, swirls it/Miles away/
And drops it/On the ear of a rabid dog,/And I take on another life”
-Gary Soto
I travel along a mountain.
The curve of a spoon was
too concave to maneuver.
Tossed from a cliff.
As I fall I am caught
in a pocket of infinity.
The strings of my being,
they slowly unravel.
I separate from myself, like a piece of lint,
a fibrous tumbleweed
in a volumeless suitcase.
Mother said I could
always begin anew.
“…The wind picks up the breath of my armpits/Like dust, swirls it/Miles away/
And drops it/On the ear of a rabid dog,/And I take on another life”
-Gary Soto
I travel along a mountain.
The curve of a spoon was
too concave to maneuver.
Tossed from a cliff.
As I fall I am caught
in a pocket of infinity.
The strings of my being,
they slowly unravel.
I separate from myself, like a piece of lint,
a fibrous tumbleweed
in a volumeless suitcase.
Mother said I could
always begin anew.
Two Collins poems
Fever Dream
At night I crawl into a castle,
pull its outer walls up to my chin
and lay my arms over the battlements.
Outside there’s the roar of an army
of mice and elephants stampeding up and down the moat.
The orange, circular explosions created by their artillery
swell slowly and innumerably beneath my eyelids.
I bid sweet dreams to a winged,
sky blue dragon at my side.
We peer over the rampart’s edge,
look down the curtain wall
and see my feet sticking out
at the bottom, toes wiggling,
twenty feet below.
Viewing the back of my head
As I was free-falling into a nonrotating black hole,
several facts from my astronomy lectures came to mind
(and where were they during my exam?):
Have I passed the ergosphere?
How long until I cross the event horizon?
I could see the stars above me contracting,
forming a narrow circle in space.
I must be within the photon sphere, then…
This isn’t so bad, I think, because
now I can rest easy on that term paper.
Soon I will only see the back of my head
in all directions. How comforting to think
that back at home, my lover can look through a telescope
and see my body, stretched and disfigured,
millions of lightyears away.
A timeless keepsake.
At night I crawl into a castle,
pull its outer walls up to my chin
and lay my arms over the battlements.
Outside there’s the roar of an army
of mice and elephants stampeding up and down the moat.
The orange, circular explosions created by their artillery
swell slowly and innumerably beneath my eyelids.
I bid sweet dreams to a winged,
sky blue dragon at my side.
We peer over the rampart’s edge,
look down the curtain wall
and see my feet sticking out
at the bottom, toes wiggling,
twenty feet below.
Viewing the back of my head
As I was free-falling into a nonrotating black hole,
several facts from my astronomy lectures came to mind
(and where were they during my exam?):
Have I passed the ergosphere?
How long until I cross the event horizon?
I could see the stars above me contracting,
forming a narrow circle in space.
I must be within the photon sphere, then…
This isn’t so bad, I think, because
now I can rest easy on that term paper.
Soon I will only see the back of my head
in all directions. How comforting to think
that back at home, my lover can look through a telescope
and see my body, stretched and disfigured,
millions of lightyears away.
A timeless keepsake.
Two-stanza poem
Glacial Age
In glacial pre-North America I creep forward.
Because I am curvaceous and shapely
I shape the land’s mountains
and smooth the hills’ curves;
a woman, I fashion them in my image.
There is someone inside me—a god, maybe,
and elsewhere this same god is inside my sisters,
guiding them in their creative paths.
A pasture spreads gently downhill,
coated with tall grass.
On a crisp, breezy day, a small stream runs,
winding, until it divides, curves,
then meets again, forming a small islet, and trickles onward.
A young boy watches this rivulet,
pondering the shape of stream and islet,
and proceeds to sing to himself, quietly,
about the footprints of his pet dinosaur.
In glacial pre-North America I creep forward.
Because I am curvaceous and shapely
I shape the land’s mountains
and smooth the hills’ curves;
a woman, I fashion them in my image.
There is someone inside me—a god, maybe,
and elsewhere this same god is inside my sisters,
guiding them in their creative paths.
A pasture spreads gently downhill,
coated with tall grass.
On a crisp, breezy day, a small stream runs,
winding, until it divides, curves,
then meets again, forming a small islet, and trickles onward.
A young boy watches this rivulet,
pondering the shape of stream and islet,
and proceeds to sing to himself, quietly,
about the footprints of his pet dinosaur.
Erotic poem
Excerpt from "The Erotic Sound"
After watching her strip
off her clothes she helped me unzip
my jeans and took no time to rip
them off. Licking her lip,
she wrapped her mouth around the tip;
but me, I just wanna dip,
so it took little effort to flip
her over and play with her nip,
steadily moving downward to her hip
where I could sip
from her until she had me equip
myself. Making sure I had a good grip,
I entered, and she let out a soft yip.
When we were done we just laid there, dripping.
After watching her strip
off her clothes she helped me unzip
my jeans and took no time to rip
them off. Licking her lip,
she wrapped her mouth around the tip;
but me, I just wanna dip,
so it took little effort to flip
her over and play with her nip,
steadily moving downward to her hip
where I could sip
from her until she had me equip
myself. Making sure I had a good grip,
I entered, and she let out a soft yip.
When we were done we just laid there, dripping.
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