WALKING ON THIN ICE

poetry mining

i used to mine my monthly online log files, harvesting search phrases which had brought folk to my agentofchaos.com site. lady k likes this one of people looking for poetry:

May 2005

poems for brain deads
sun poems=the five dangers
contemporary theory poetry+no truth
modern poets that don’t suck
continuous metaphoric elephant poems
lyrics to moonrise buddha bar
From the most distant time poem The Emperor Wu of Han
tit poems
acoustic poem swimming
little ms heroin poem
poems that concern marijuana
poem on fire red how to get to birth island
2 minute poem by an american poet
poets for fiance
“lost in shadow” poems
60’s poetry about life
poetry, neckties
moon loon poetry
rhyming poems about blackholes
LSD poems
mississippi+eating dirt+poems
poetry buddha
poems about money ND GREED
bumblebee+poems
poem in the mouth through the gums look out stomach here it comes
poetry of 666
aggressive poetry
poetry about twigs
zen poem death of parent
poems on becoming a saint
small modern poems
innocent cat guilty mind poem
poem baby baby yes mama
alice persons poem poetry poet

kept 2 found poems going for 28 months – selected monthly lists of searches for poetry – Positively Poetic
and select samples of the perverted, odd and not so nice search phrases – A Sordid Stories Unsavory Searches.
if you ever experience writer’s block, you’re welcome to dip into these 2 found poem waters for inspiration.

fur sure

malaise days – we’re more than road weary, not quite road kill. a bit of boredom has crept in. what i was afraid might happen has – after the exotic reality of morocco, london’s a bit boring.

so i see this as decompressing – we’re revisiting london and south france to rest, let some of the fizz of adventure out before we return to cleveland and move to chicago. had we gone directly from morocco to cleveland, we might have exploded.

morocco cost me physically, spiritually, and mentally – but the 3 months there ramped up life’s intensity level, changed who i am.

The Grasshopper’s Tale

My life’s dog food for do gooders
Hot dodgers dogging God’s zone
Fur sure of itself
Per path and position
Point portion pursued

We who rise in heat from dream
Lick recollection loose
From cold fire’s template
Futility’s fog
We bleed in abandon
Dance dawn’s dapple light

the corporate mean

The Corporate Mean

The promised land of milk and honey
Hides the men of scars and shame
Who came they say to slay their dragon
Yet slayed to stay the same

Sleep creeps like Jason’s wool
Down shelf enchanted eyes
Devolved from Mammon’s muse
These self selected wise
Inside their phantom rooms
In fairy tale castles
Devoid of viable dooms
As integrated assholes
They sway
Illusion’s lies

cell fone dwellers i-pod wearers

people everywhere walking, riding bicycles, buses, subways, restaurants – all talking on cell phones. camping, we saw a cell fone lady ride by on her horse. some say cell fone radiation causes brain cancer, kills brain cells – good… help our over-population problem – the cell fone zombies will be the first to go to make room for us luddites.

cell fone radiation may also be one of the causes killing off our be bumble bees. when there’re no more bee hives, we’ll be forced to give herds of the brain-damaged cell fone dwellers q-tips, send them en masse out into the fields to pollinate our food stock flowers.

other candidates for thinning the herd are the i-pod ear piece wearers. it may be nice to have your own private movie soundtrack, but it’s even nicer to be able to hear what’s sneaking up behind you. when reality turns and begins to rend, it’ll be the screams of the slow folk whose minds are on cell fones & i-pods who’ll be eaten first that will give the rest of us a chance to run away.

it’s been a running rat maze daze past two days:

last night for $15 US, we subwayed to posted open mic poetry venue that no longer existed.

today for $14 US, we subwayed to buy a digital camera on sale for $198 US – when we got there, they said it was really $300. went to major bookstore to buy neil gaiman’s American Gods to reread, and they had every gaiman book except that one. tried to buy a new hat so i wouldn’t look so much like a frigging sea captain in my old korean proletariat hat – no hats either… found the right style, but in wrong color, wrong pattern, wrong density.

so no poetry no camera no book no hat took two days, five hours, $29, and miles of hoofing. a bargain in anybody’s book. did get some good fotos, some sunshine too – and we got to where we wanted to go both times – even though where we went didn’t exist anymore.

i dash at dots but make no connection, worship unrewarded at the alter of efficiency.

except for the electricity of reciting 2 poems at the delinquent publication party, london and i’ve not yet meshed this trip. probably my fault. we’re drained – 13th of 14 months world travel sees us near empty. lady is even having trouble creating art – which she never has before. fortunately we have two featured and one open mic poetry readings coming up which should recharge and refocus us.

in 8 weeks we head back to what was once home. looks like we’ll be getting back to the usa just in time to see cheney-bush call off the next elections. only in amerikkka.

Lite Verse

We come from light
We go to light
But what a heavy in between

prey has no name

Prey Has No Name

We fish with human face
Such depths of want
And need
Heart drums beat
To pulse blood hope
In womb warm wonder
Lying lizard in the sun

In spring full breadth
Of coiled light
Brain bridged push
Mute witness
For those who died
In black and white
Before elective gray

wrong lane continues

lady figures it cost us $36 US to see david lynch’s Inland Empire at a second run budget cinema, what with subway and all. it cost even more – the movie depleted rather than recharged my spirit. to begin to even begin to get a grip on it, i’d have to watch it again and take notes – and i’m not going to do that. i’ll cherish his previous efforts, and lick the shiny bits from this one. sometimes you just have to cut your losses.

Noontide Midnight

Beware people with
Small heads
Big mouths
Bigger teeth
For they bugger ethics
Oil small boys
Soil
Dark questionables
Vestments drenched
In unholy liquid

Tears rise
Cry
Through my dry
Ness

It’s noontide midnight
Gossamer’s chalk line fault
Cherry red siren on top
Whip cream wagon waiting
For the sauce

Right lane ends ahead
Wrong lane continues

2 for the road

feels so good – finally read to an audience last night. been 10 months since we read, 12 months since we’ve been with a babble of poets. this is the reason we’re moving to chicago – to be in the creative flow again.

this was at the publication party for issue #3 of The Delinquent. i recited these two from memory since i had no poetry with me:

. . .

Grease Your Grill

I’m an oven cleaner baby
Come to scrub your grill
Yes this oven loving man
Mean to steam your grill
Get the heat back baby
Flame ‘n fire the thrill

I’ll rub your rust off lady
Get your grid to shine
Rid this mood of maybe baby
Lady let me lick your lime
Make much meat that might be
Moistened by munching lightly
Juicy, prime

Gonna grease your grill
Put the heat back baby
Then send you the bill

. . .

Now Zen

It ain’t age.
It ain’t sex.
It ain’t race, religion, height,
gender, color, class or learning.

It’s path, progress and position.
The road not not taken.
Be here now.
Hear now
oh eyes unseeing
oh ears unearned.

We’re all perfect potential
cept maybe republicans, lawyers,
the true organized crime called police
the true whores called priests.

You can walk on water IF water wants.
Just ask.
Walk willing.
There ain’t no dark night’s ungentle light.
Ain’t nothing outside but lies.
But even lie true ain’t for you.
Walk within.
Don’t need no god.
No catholic pimp pushing blood feast.
My lie’s mine.
Walk my own walk.
Fuck the talk.

Grasshoppers gone wrong become ants.
Bad ants cry uncle, cry wolf, cry baby.
Goats goad sacrifice to sun.
Ritual requires repetition, release.
Nothing stays river’s run
but drought’s dry dirt
(and river still runs).

Rub your ears together.
Start a fire.
Flesh alarm.
Let gone go.
Lock lip.

Listen.