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Once, in finesse of fiddles found I ecstasy,
In the flash of gold heels in the hard pavement
Now see I
That warmth’s the very stuff of poetry.
Oh God, make small
The old star-eaten blanket of the sky,
That I may fold it round me and in comfort lie.
-Pound
You do not always know what I am feeling.
Last night in the warm spring air while I was
blazing my tirade against someone who doesn’t
interest
me, it was love for you that set me
afire,
and isn’t it odd? for in rooms full of
strangers my most tender feelings
writhe and
bear the fruit of screaming. Put out your hand,
isn’t there
an ashtray, suddenly, there? beside
the bed? And someone you love enters the room
and says wouldn’t
you like the eggs a little
different today?
And when they arrive they are
just plain scrambled eggs and the warm weather
is holding
–
We come into the room, the windows
are empty, the sun is weak
and slippery on the ice. And a
sob comes, simply because it is
coldest of the things we know
-Frank O’Hara
The sounds of my restless throat are unceasing. I wonder if anyone else can hear my heart pounding? Is it me or the floor shaking? Man, I really wanted just to love you endlessly. This is not a satisfying conclusion. An uneven buzz like the buzzing in my head. The sound of my angry stomach. Soft whispers far behind me. Comfort comes and goes like sound. This room is a womb, or a tomb, carrying buried energy that won’t stop thrumming. I want to be heard. Hear me! I want to penetrate this quiet room with an ecstatic yawp or an agonized howl. listen Listen LiStEn LISTEN
-a human need, a burning desire, a hopeless endeavor. You don’t hear a single word I say. This is fruitless. This is agony. This is so fucking human.
The Heart of the Matter
The clock is blinking 8:08 and a distant scream is tickling the backs of our necks. It creeps in- this is the end. This is the first stirring of breath. Come now, this is how and what and why you would, come now, this is-
wow
thisissofuckinggood.
To Do (immediately):
Read everything ever written! Leave poetry on bathroom stalls. Chew thoughts with gusto. Stay up all night playing. Kiss all of your friends. Try everything at least once. Say “I love you” when you do. Climb more trees? Relish in the sound of your own laughter. Always say something new. Fuck and make love often. Celebrate the first day of spring and taste cold water. Breathe in and let go.
Record your dreams. Draw them! Draw for the sheer beauty of creation. Color in your life. Be unforgettable. Forget everything that came before this moment. Start now, act immediately. Proclaim your sovereignty over yourself. Let no one keep you from the ecstatic center of all being. Declare your body your own and feel the weight of your steps. Surround everything with music and sing along. Make up your own songs! Listen like you’re the one speaking. You are the one speaking. We are one worn, wheezing being begging to be set free.
You are free, to do as I- Unplug your television. Wrestle, banter, be silly, be happy. Act decisively. Challenge people’s view of reality. Drive with the windows down and the music up loud and roaring and soon you’ll be soaring if they told you life was boring they were utterly wrong.
you said Is
there anything which
is dead or alive more beautiful
than my body,to have in your fingers
(trembling ever so little)?
Looking into
your eyes Nothing,i said,except the
air of spring smelling of never and forever.
….and through the lattice which moved as
if a hand is touched by a
hand(which
moved as though
fingers touch a girl’s
breast,
lightly)
Do you believe in always,the wind
said to the rain
I am too busy with
my flowers to believe,the rain answered
-e.e. cummings
RHYME SCHEMES YOUR MIND SCREAMS
FROM ALL THESE BLIND THEMES
BURSTING AT THE SEAMS,
WHILE THE WORLD TEEMS
WHILE SHE LEANS
IN THE STREAMS
WHILE SHE FIENDS
GOOD SOY BEANS
WHILE SHE CLEANS
FOR THE QUEENS
AND IT STEAMS
AND IT DREAMS
Hey you. You’re a rather charming illusion.
Why, thank you. How does your garden grow?
In the strangest of places!
Oh my.
May every single love become you, may the doom undie
while you drink and get hiiiiiigh
he holds me, he heals me
while the sun comes up,
feels like ecstasy
in my cup.
the Be abyss is never missed,
though it should be,
let’s be. let’s be free
(i like
to be kissed)
come now this is how
and what and why you would,
cum now this is wow
thisissofuckinggood
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seemed filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms i owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.
-Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster
-Elizabeth Bishop, One Art
Sonnet the Hedgehog
Rhyme schemes your mind screams from all these blind themes
bursting at the seams, while the world spins bright
as snow and light
as air, there’s nothing there
to keep you sane, just the blood in your veins,
just these fettered dreams, just the day at dawn,
greeting me with a breeze and a long yawn.
It opens and closes, you loved me well,
but away I go from this perennial hell.
Here’s to the stars, the ocean, the trees,
here’s to learning never to say please,
being hot for life, stepping on its heels
and standing still while everything reels-
and when it all comes crashing down on me
know there is nothing that is like to be.
……………………Can I… tonight? What? Again? No. Wait! Maybe. I said…
But your
face
looked so
peaceful
in your
sleep.
……………………It’s not, I’m scratching my ankles endlessly in my dreams.
………….(the sun is safe
………….behind the giant ogres
………….all around us)
What
smells
like
opium?
……………………That’s the cat. Little Green Eyes.
…………..(meow)
Oh my
she’s
eaten
all the
strawberries.
……………………You weren’t meant to keep them.
I just
……………………No. Can’t you hear anything?
I just hope
she enjoys them
……………………The clouds are rolling in again.
Oh God,
this is
so
fucking
beautiful.
your perfervid nature! damn it!
perfervid, syn. fervid, fervent, intense, vehement, impassioned, fierce, ardent, violent, heightened, enhanced
Just when you think you’re acting the most spontaneously, you’re acting the most predictably.
soften the knees
and grip the earth
to rapture! to felicity!
to eccentricity!
to purity and honesty!
to now, to me
to how i must be.
time flies. time dies.
lucid and
perennial
.
“Just slap a wig on an ox why don’t you?”
“She’s either deaf or has down syndrome.”
-Andrew Fucking Flint, on Nico
For a soul, for something true,
for something I have spent my whole life trying
to find, it had been found, it is being
found, my door stands open,
we laugh and drink til dawn,
until the pain is gone.
Slinking toward a crowded, anonymous bar,
willing my heartbeat to have constancy,
tasting only salt and my trembling pulse,
all the way down, while
swooping through the scenes-
beautiful skinny-hipped Asian women,
drunken lurching rich city hipsters,
my hair flying around my face like flower petals.
I wish for home, fucking or exquisite beauty.
Will I find a scrap of hope
in the midst of this city blooming
children who have no eyes?
The train stops often
and refills by the minute/
my fellow adventurers become
skinnier and harder, younger
angels waiting under streetlights,
half-moon eyes and heavy smiles.
January 1st, 2005, New York City,
Center of the Universe,
Land of the Periphery,
an ominously sunny sixty degrees.
My head aches,
my mouth is ash,
my heart yearns.
I bleed all over,
my eyes streining to blue,
light shining from my pores,
Product of Love,
testimony of passion,
a teardrop on an eyelash,
a whisper in my wine glass,
collect you all and scatter you
all over the streets,
to travel in the breeze
all the way to infinity.
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