The Highest Art

Chastisement comes to us from the Greek,
just kidding it’s from Old French,
and before that Latin.
And you can follow it back to PIE and beyond—
To the first poet to utter a sound, and beyond—
From since there’s been vocal cords,
or rattles,
or hairy legs,
there has been chastisement,
and poets do it the best.

Post Information
Poems
Post Metadata
Key Value
Title The Highest Art
Date
Author
Category Poems
Tagged
Share
Short URL http://j.mp/1pliVPj
FeedbackLeave a comment
Tip the poet

Load and effort

Balancing the needs
of the artist with
the needs of the man
is a hard thing to do
beginning with it’s the man
writing this because the
artist is dead immobil-
ized at least feels
permanent tormented
and unable
but in there somewhere
is the eye the last bit
of the artist recomending
linebreaks and howling
over word choice
and worrying about how
this will ever be digitilized
ones and zeros motherfuckers
it’s impossible he shouts
his last words and dies
back again as I was
saying balance is a
lame word for what
I want to describe
the fulcrum is 75%
along the lever
with the needs of
the artist at the short end.

Post Information
Poems
Post Metadata
Key Value
Title Load and effort
Date
Author
Category Poems
Tagged
Share
Short URL http://j.mp/1plghZM
FeedbackLeave a comment
Tip the poet
20140724-141231-51151780.jpg

Analogistan

You can stay out
He tells the cigarettes
You come with me
He tells the coffee

When he hits the edge
And can no longer balance
The composition book
On his knee

Heading out or in in
Search of a suitable
Surface to lie or lay
His book and his pen

Post Information
Poems
Post Metadata
Key Value
Title Analogistan
Date
Author
Category Poems
Tagged
Share
Short URL http://j.mp/1oiOEnR
Feedback1 Comment
Tip the poet
Dust_Plumes_off_Western_Africa

Jiggle em if you hafta

There’s dust a blowing,
sir, big as a a continent,
and expanding.
Overtake the hemisphere
say a couple a weeks.

Noted.
With an awkward pause.
Why bring it up

Likely extinguish all life.
We can fix it.

Oh, let nature run its course.

But, that’s just it.
It ain’t nature.
It hot and ugly,
vaporized alloys,
ionizing particulates.

Thought you said dust storm.
That’s more of a mushroom cloud.
You wanna try contain it?

Well, yes, sir.
I believe it would be
economically advantageous

The captain smiles,
and how so?

Cheaper stop it now,
than terraform some other planet

You’d be left with
half a planet to play with.

Half the development costs.

OK, good, you’re learning,
the captain covers her collector
mouthing you-just-want-to-study,
he nods,
she offers a hand, get me em numbers.

By the way she said em
it meant jiggle-the-numbers
and the handshake was a
back channel to someone in TR.

Um, shure will do that
he questions but corrects
with eureka on his skin
I’ll inform technological reclamation,
maybe be that there’s something for em.

And em meant us this time
a whole planet, for us, on the outskirts,
economically feasible
if you leave those details out.

Post Information
Poems
Post Metadata
Key Value
Title Jiggle em if you hafta
Date
Author
Notes

Think of it as code switching in the 24th century. In a culture where curiosity is considered menacing, while everything is geared to economic progress, and omnipresent data-collectors can't quite make out colloquial language.

Category Poems
Tagged , , , , , , , , ,
Share
Short URL http://j.mp/1j9herH
Feedback1 Comment
Tip the poet

Fallout

He pounds the dugout
Hoping to shake loose
Grains leaves specks
Something, anything.

It’ll leave a bruise
But he doesn’t mind
Bruises show passion,
At least, for something.

My soul is bruised
I bet yours is too
Maybe we belong together.
The passion broken mass
Meets weekly,
Groans at itself and leaves.

Specks, the lot of us, 
Hunting dust, tracking
The fallout of exploded
Passions. The dust
And grains of a hit. 

Post Information
Poems
Post Metadata
Key Value
Title Fallout
Date
Author
Draftlast (#2)
Category Poems
Tagged
Share
Short URL http://j.mp/TPpOzZ
Feedback1 Comment
Tip the poet
IMG_1048

Ceiling Fan

The download link above is for the audio (m4a) which I sent out for my podcast (I couldn’t justify hitting my subscribers with a large podcast). You can download various video and audio formats from the Internet Archive.

Post Information
Podcast
Post Metadata
Key Value
Title Ceiling Fan
FormatVideo
Date
Author
Other formatsInternet Archive
Notes

Vimeo Mirror

The percussive thud isn’t from the fan, it’s the heartbeat of my soon to be born niece or nephew.

Category Podcast
Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Share
Short URL http://j.mp/T2xFcJ
Feedback1 Comment
Toss some bits at your podcaster

In Saginaw, in Saginaw

The wind took a dastardly turn
In Saginaw, in Saginaw

Oh it rains x or y times a year
In Saginaw, in Saginaw

I know you’ve had that feeling
In Saginaw, in Saginaw 

Oh I know you’ve had that feeling
In Saginaw, in Saginaw 

In his free time, and it’s all free these days, he throws together spiders that run databases stitching together relevant data to plug into variable fields in his poetry.

In “In Saginaw, in Saginaw” it queries for the average yearly rainfall for Saginaw, for Saginaw.

Post Information
Poems
Post Metadata
Key Value
Title In Saginaw, in Saginaw
Date
Author
Category Poems
Tagged
Share
Short URL http://j.mp/1lEVr9N
Feedback1 Comment
Tip the poet

All is all is now

a new poem, then,
without tangle
or predecessor
a true poem
born now as
mosquitoes bite
and sweat beads
and I’m not thinking of you
before the sun slips down
breathless and weightless
our story played out
against the night sky
I can’t help slipping into it
it’s a natural law here
momentum, inertia,
trajectories too expensive to alter
the moments sweep past
you and you and you
against the sky
a prologue, then, or epilogue

Post Information
Poems
Post Metadata
Key Value
Title All is all is now
Date
Author
Draftlast (#8)
Category Poems
Tagged
Share
Short URL http://j.mp/1n6QfK7
Feedback1 Comment
Tip the poet

Saturn, My Love

Your love is plumb round
The planet from you
And you got water to collect
For Earth, they ran through
Their supply allotment
Long time ago
And it’s on you
And your love is plumb round
The planet
Also collecting water
For home.
But no one thinks about love
As they dismantle the Jewel.

If your eyes didn’t sparkle

If your eyes didn’t sparkle
I wouldn’t be lying here
Seeing them in the night sky

Post Information
News
Post Metadata
Key Value
Title If your eyes didn’t sparkle
Date
Author
Category News
Share
Short URL http://j.mp/SEEAsw
FeedbackLeave a comment
Tip the reporter

Little make-believes in the shape of poems.