Tuesday, January 5, 2016

January 5


6 comments:

  1. This comment has been removed by the author.

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  2. Jan 5. IMAGE

    (DELETE LAST STANZA SUMMARY BELOW FROM JAN 4 REVISION)
    Dash off to ringing bells
    Are you the few who see?
    The sweaty brow, the eyeglass spot
    The television loud.
    You're at the totem’s low
    But you usher Normal
    Here.


    (REPLACE WITH)
    Patient call bells scream
    In this body shop
    Where parts no longer work
    Immobile and garaged
    In stinking ambiance
    Here you tinker small
    Wipe a sweaty brow.

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    Replies
    1. I think the second is much stronger. It really highlights the real terror there

      Delete
  3. The Impression

    As a boy
    At ten
    Years old
    My dad was
    With me
    For a visitation
    And was never
    There most of the time
    Since the divorce
    As I sat on his lap
    Ready for bed
    My love was like
    a new puppy wanting
    a treat or a something
    like a pet or a lick
    I leaned over to kiss
    Him goodnight
    And he resisted
    And turned away
    Saying that men
    Don't kiss
    And shook my
    hand instead
    of kissing me
    goodnight
    My heart broke
    into a thousand
    shards of glass
    as tears rolled
    down from the
    wells of my soul

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  4. Not about Chocolate

    When we were three sisters in school
    lunch contained two sticks of a Kit Kat bar
    the other two were missing every time
    My tongue licked melted chocolate
    rough fingerprints sweetened by regret
    the extra bars should be mine
    I was oldest and chocolate
    is not meant to be shared with siblings

    That was a childhood ago.
    Today a blue M&M stares at me
    from the palm of my hand.
    The blue one is new.

    By eliminating the first stanza I removed the universality of the invisible third eye watching me hold and M&M, noticing the lines in my hand, and mention of my mother. The lines on my hand with a blue dot was the visual which prompted the whole poem. I am missing this. The last line popped in my head when I first studied the M&M on my hand, like an advertizing jingle. Overall result? Well, feels more childish in its emotions and aren't poets supposed grown-ups with great depth?

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