Charles Bukowski – No Title
Tag Archives: form
Anne Sexton Reading
17 , 17 syllable American Sentences
Following a dVerse incentive i try the American Sentence a flourish of lines at 4am this morning hope they go down ok
1: his nose punched flat lips split pouted looking for a fight every night
2: a can of schlitz sunset and low slung impala remedy for loss
3: obstinate kisses infect toothache jaw ache headache neurology needed
4: motel marinade coated and baked off counted dollars and returned to the street
5: diamond finger tug gold band reminder these kisses where illicit
6: sat hunched on the toilet hand working the memory that he had betrayed
7: winters pale counterpane gave no shelter for the rabbit from predatory air
8: reasons could be found on the diminishing length of yesterdays words
9: dial the number wait for tone he would not answer he is long gone
10: jazz piano raw as her voice began to crack it was no longer 1954
11: seek the stars and they will not shine anticipating the moment to surprise
12: guitar strings strangle all chances of finding reconciliation
13: two finger pressure shudder she releases a sigh he was erased
14: bellboy at end of marble hall hear titans whisper demise of poor
15: grandpa’s hand once so steady gone leaves remember tobacco smell
16: over ocean swathe she watches vessel under pirates color sail
17 : amity beach july bathers swim children play mayor falters shark prowls
@dVersePoets and the joy of Googlism in three parts
bourbon
bourbon is made
bourbon is great for sipping
bourbon is not
bourbon is a family
bourbon is aged for 8 years
in new charred oak barrels
which is
lying to me
giving me eyes that see different
bourbon is a cross between an
autumn damask and a china rose
like you
eaten up by my madness
bottle madness
bourbon is velvet
cloaking the truth
despite all efforts
those eight years had gone
baton
baton is the tool
baton is probably the best one you get
baton is conducive for cabaret shows
baton is carried around
baton is rolled back and forth on arms
baton is great to defend yourself
baton is great for use in all
bondage and discipline situations
and comes as
baton is available in 16″
baton is best for crowd control situations
caligula would be proud
orgy proportions of a spanking latex riot
baton is combat
loss of control the eroticism
lost to a carnival mind
baton is in the hand it can twirl
baton is a sport that never really ends for me
camus you gave us him
caligula in his glory
no it is a counterpoison
antidote feeling beyond the math
baton is a non
pepper spray
pepper spray is often carried in the backcountry by biologists
pepper spray is on the agenda for today
pepper spray is safe
pepper spray is not a bear
pepper spray is made in the USA and factory fresh
pepper spray is a 1/2 ounce canister that is cased by stylish
plastic spongebob graphics
krusty krab innocence
of spatula mayhem
the enemy plankton
pepper spray is used on psychiatric patients
pepper spray is not for sale in Hawaii
so it cannot belong in
a pineapple under the sea
pepper spray is hot
at the burning griddle
plankton’s kind collected
searing their flesh
shaping and forming it to be
something edible
pepper spray is not a bear
as they cannot be found in our blue oceans
where our nation innocence
is a star in an armchair
Oliver Girondo – Even Dying Her
EVEN DYING HER
The palpable the morbid
the conch bold bed the sodregs
the taut deep probes the ebbs waves of the flesh
its nubile contractile pistils
and its annexed nests
the fervid languiforms innumerable subsubornings of touch
its naked blue must
each lode
each vein of blood’s echo’s dream
somniloquent nights of high celestial croaking that animaplunge us vertigo
soliloquy
how much it sticks without coasts to the flow the pulse to the red cosmogone
its emptied faces
and its channels
even biting the earth
terra incognita notorious pickaxe eyes for sore sight the bony the impacts of
awe of more slack
any being on the sore spot
the gifts given gone where orbits sobs of euphoria fog among themselves
whichever vigil attentively veiled expected skeleton spouse
daft barren wake
the microchance of germ motive encounter
already fugitive thens
selfsearching for free
the fantaseeds
even ingesting the earth
any porous way
the sole wide well of the pit immersed inside
sectarian thirst for thirst finite embraces
each mouth
therefore the sum
such stubborn love
hightide loving the brimming lovepandemic totem sprout of love of love breaking out
the pockmark
new gorgon love medium olavacobraniagara erect entire swoon
that ululululululates and arpeggiosipiderscratches the ego breath core
even exhaling the earth
with its trine astroids its species and names multiflames mires and excrecredences
its lassos buzzards love nests of complex incests among loose bones currents without
drains
its neighboring corpses of memory
its light of naked crop
its axillas of nap
and its gyre in dough not less less than other related cogyrators
even the feeble weaning
even the neuter untempting
even dying her
Oliver Girondo 1891-1967 an Argentinian poet who rejected academia and academic poets touching on surrealism and create new sounds of poetry, listening to phonetics and often an existentialist , breaking limits of punctuation and word boundaries like Borges published in many magazines as well as his books
and you know how to bake
around the mouth
cakemix stolen from the bowl
a taste of the unbaked
sweeter than expected,
holding back the urge
to lick lips noisily ,
washed it away
as a drunkard would
bottle sloshed whiskey
turned burnt caramel,
bowl slipped from edge
of table with enormous shatter,
pieces glazed
spread as his foot got cut
spilled as a sacrifice
for he was a prophet
born in anticipation
growing to expectation,
the world full of paraphernalia
that only a poet mends,
blood painted in circles,
scratching balls in shorts,
where was the thunder
to his profanity,
his stem to water
those fragrant vaginal daisies
errors and promises,
love had entered an interval,
trumps inflated cotton,
she came to see
shaking head
ash fell from her cigarette,
they had binds
beyond gold bands
and a chapel promise,
no atomic desolation would separate
leave it she would say
taking his hand
led to another room
more doors away from
the violent splatter on the walls
best to ignore
her voice sleepy not unsound
sat limply hung out to dry,
she stood adjusted nightgown,
it would be clean,
and wounds heal
maybe the interval was over
dVersePoets
Sunday Whirl
A poem for dVersePoets and Sunday Whirl , dVerse needed a beat sound and i hope i hit the notes
ballad of a stripper and a bookkeeper
he shot a hobo
alas a hobo
my lover shot a hobo
it was love , so love
i was the most insane stripper
lost on a winters eve
he was a bookkeeper with a gun
we wanted to run together
passion and breast in flames
he tried so much to please
with bunched up bloody nose
another fight over me
he started to kill
for pleasure that winters eve
police would call
and i would deny
through a packards windshield
his face a policeman saw
once run down
no going back
mexico and jazz
we where on the run
but my passion waned
with his bloodstained hands
and made a call
to a deputy
our villa surrounded
he felt betrayed
as to the chair
he fried
my lover alas my lover
who shot a hobo
and broke my heart
dVersePoets
Edward Hopper- Gas (1940)
Edward Hopper Gas (1940 )
burning crooked roses
coyotes yip !
as i walk through baby cyclones
up the stairs to the sky
as she remained
on sweating rocking horse
deeply sea pearl glint in eye,
oh is there anything else other
than immortality,
reward and wisdom,
have i become the dog
that runs through muddy rivers
to wash the gasoline of brutality off,
i will never see an algae
covered stone coffin,
horse keeps rocking
travelling this
unremarkable earth machine,
stairs behind me
as are leaking babies
and crushed beercans,
no cloud castle
old vagrants song rings softly,
weeping in whitman’s embrace
i have left human shape
finger shadows reach
as frozen spider would,
my once and fevered love
rides on
Richard Brautigan – The San Francisco Weather Report
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