Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Holograph to the World, or No One

I keep of list of poetry prompts on my iPhone, which I don't think is an uncommon type of practice at all!! I have been itching to write a poem for a good number of days now, and I finally felt the right energy in the air to do so!! I looked through my list and picked some of prompts that had a similar feel to one-another, and out came this!! The lyrics songs are from (in order) The Briggs "Bloody Minds" and Rancid "St. Mary"!! Hope you like it!! Leaving me a comment means a lot to me!! Thanks!! :-)

(Holograph: 1-adjective-wholly written by the person in whose name it appears; 2-noun-a holograph writing, as a deed, will or letter)

(Skank: Verb-to dance a rhythmic dance performed to punk, reggae or ska music, characterized by bending forward, raising the knees, and extending the hands.)



Holograph to the World, or No One

Restless, again.

I wander aimlessly around my house,
punk rock blasting as loudly as possible
from my laptop in the living room;
it’s a good parallel to my seemingly
helter-skelter life.

I pause for a moment,
skank in my kitchen,
yelling lyrics to my empty house,
I fed my common sense to the world years ago!

I laugh, half-run and half-skip
then throw myself on to my couch.

So many disjoined thoughts
float through my head:
my punk-rocker crush’s new picture,
seeing my deceased friend’s Facebook page this afternoon,
an upcoming concert date’s rapid approach,
the guy who has fallen in love with an image he’s made of me.

I shake my head,
shout the lyrics being sung:
Now Mary’s out the door with a loaded 44 in her hands!
Jilting all these thoughts
from my mind, into the night.

I smirk, lean over,
grab my notebook and pen
and write a happy scene.

Thursday, July 18, 2013

Poem for Detroit

If you know me at all, you know how much I love my hometown of Detroit. Today the city filed for bankruptcy. I wasn't on-line all day, I saw the news when I got home. It wasn't a huge surprise, but it was a heartbreaking one.

For dVerse Poets Pub (It's been a while, guys!!) Using "Oh the places we live!" Even though I don't live in the D anymore & "The Poet's Toolbox"!!

My Detroit

I didn’t expect the news of Detroit today to get to me so much,
But I know why it did:
Detroit is my home.

Hot summer nights spent in Tiger’s Stadium.
Family outings to Ford Field.
My cousins babysitting my brother (the only boy) & I
at our Grandmother’s.
Sitting around multiple tables at my aunt & uncle’s house
because there were too many of us to fit at a single table.
Watching the Red Wings
skate to victory two years in a row
in my aunt and uncle’s living room.
Huge, Polish Catholic, family reunions on the lake.
Sleeping on the floor in tiny cabins
without air conditioning.
Meeting my cousin’s newly adopted daughter,
the first of the next generation of our family.
My cousin’s baby shower,
her sister stricken with cancer,
the two of them never stopped smiling that day.
Family members tight in together, both sides,
at my grandmother’s
then my aunt’s
then my cousin’s funerals.

Detroit is my family,
my history,
my love.

Monday, June 10, 2013

A Poem About Poetry

"The page is long, blank, and full of truth." - Jack Kerouac

"Life is too short to live without poetry." - Frank Turner

Hope you like it!! Leave a comment, please, if ya'd like!! :-)




The Poetry of Me

Staring, again,
at yet another bank page
in my notebook.
An upbeat punk tune
guitars, bass, drums, piano
pulse through my headphones
and into my brain.

I believe that there is
poetry in everything.
In the kids running
through the fountains in the park,
parents close by watching
yet letting their little ones be kids.
In the black sleek tower
looming above the park from a distance,
the chief building in the city’s skyline.
In the concrete block emerging
out from the grass, currently
holding me while I write.

I write about
what I see, feel, hear, love, experience.
And today my poetry
comes from the park.

---

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Hockey & Superman in a Poem!!

This one's untitled, again (I kinda suck at titling my poems!!) I've been writing really short poems lately for some reason!! Here's a new one, containing hockey & my Superman blanket!! Was inspired by something someone said about being in my element the other day when I told him that I was being boring!! Let me know what you think!! Thanks for stopping by!! (Oh, and title suggestion for this and any untitled poem of mine are always welcome!!) :-)

                                                            (Yes, this is the actual blanket that I write about!!)


Hockey’s playing on my TV
but it’s not my favorite team.
I’m half-heartedly watching
while playing with my phone.
I’m feeling vulnerable tonight,
again,
laying underneath my Superman blanket.

No reason to feel exposed
But alone, in my old cavernous house,
I feel the weight of being me,
of my own self-doubt
and of my strength to prevail,
fighting a battle to win me over.
I can take off, I know
that I can fucking fly!
But I first have to find
where the hell my kryptonite is hidden.

Friday, April 26, 2013

You, Again

Hey!! Bet you can guess who/what this one is about!! One day I will fucking get over that man!! Hope it comes soon!!

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You, Again

I still hurt to my very core.
Anything that even remotely reminds me of you
makes my breath catch, my chest seize, my eyes go red,
makes my heart physically hurt.

I’m suspicious of everyone now.
New people, old people, friends.
What do they all want from me?
Am I acting correctly according to them?
When will they leave me?
All at once,
or will they go marching
out one-by-one.

I’ve never liked being drunk.
The fuzz in the head, not being in control,
possibly feeling like I have to puke.
But now, it makes me feel real,
feel alive. Feel something other than pain
when I think of you. But even then, I still feel pain.
I drink ‘til I can’t hold my head up,
until it’s as heavy as my heart.
I drink until I pass out.
The only time I can’t feel anything
is when I’m unconscious.

I can barely even look
at one of my favorite photos
of a Black & Tan at my favorite bar.
Because one of the last things you ever said to me
was that you liked that picture.
Fitting, that one of your favorite beverages
is helping me get over you.

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Heartache Ain’t A Thing I’d Recommend

So, I'm going through a rough time right now. The two previous poems are also about what's going on. The title for this poem was taken from a Ducky Boys song. The band's lead singer, Mark Lind, is my favorite songwriter mentioned in the poem. My favorite comedian is Christopher Titus if you want to check out some of his stuff. Not my best poem ever, but let me know what ya think (Please)!

Just snapped this photo of what's beside me as I type!! :-)



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Heartache Ain’t A Thing I’d Recommend

My favorite comedian once stated
that when a girl gets her heart broken
she automatically slips into an
“eat cookies and cry period.”
Well, I take a slightly different route,
with a drink whiskey and write period.

My favorite songwriter once said
to never trust anyone
who hasn’t been broken by life,
who hasn’t been kicked while they’re down,
because they can’t imagine how it feels.
If I had only listened to him,
I wouldn’t be so broken, again.

I wanted to sit outside,
in the rain, and write.
I wanted to watch raindrops
blur the blue lines of my notebook
and the black ink of my pen strokes together.

I wanted my notebook to look
how I feel: washed-up, used,
left out for the elements.

Instead I’m huddled
on a whicker couch in a screened in porch.
With only yoga pants, a worn-out hoodie, and a Superman blanket
to shield me from the 39 degree winds.

I shiver as I write,
pull my blanket tighter around me,
move around in my seat
on my unending quest to get comfortable .
This’ll do, I think
before I run inside to refill my glass.

Monday, April 1, 2013

MicroPoetry

So, I don't know how long this has been going on, but over the last few days in Twitter I've been reading #MicroPoetry tweets, AKA poetry written with 140 characters or less. I'll probably be writing more as the days go on. Here's my first attempt, not too shabby I think!! :-)

The picture is of Marc Orrell, my absolute favorite guitarist. Because this photo makes me way happy!!


I wish I could
grab your shoulders
shake you
Yelling until you understand
but I'll sit here placid
strumming my thoughts away