Jester's Westfield Community Voices
Well, another Monday night was well spent at Jester's in Westfield reading and listening to poetry. I can't believe I hadn't read "Whoa, Whoa, Whoa, Feelings" there before. It went over well; and I always enjoy reading it. Sadly, it does not translate well to the page, so until I can figure out how to a) get a decent recording of me reading it and b) figure out how to include that here; I will leave it to your imagination. Here are some other poems I read:
How I Killed Myself
first
let me explain
about Myself
and why killing
was the best option
imagine
a life not lead
and lead extraordinarily
often at the same time
every day a struggle
with meaning
with banality
Hope was a lottery ticket
agony lasting
so long
it was comfortable
-- only passion --
can overcome comfort
and in a fit
of passion
I killed Myself
it was uncomfortable
at first
having Confidence
quelling the negativity
dwelling on the positive
Control --
without the fear
whether it was a trick
of words or drugs
or a passionate
rebirth is irrelevant
Here's one that I wrote just before I went on to read:
Getting into the Groove
words tumble
like gumballs
across the linoleum
tripping me up
in my attempt to speak
wanting a tinnitus
of language
a tintinnabulation
of syllables
sadly, the din
of myself
seeking solace
in others
shuns the inner
singing voice
And this one's an oldie but a goody:
Eleemosynary Fix *
Why does sadness visit me
when I feel I should be fine
It's a sense of being tipsy
when I haven't tasted wine
Melancholy haunts me
-- a ghostly paramour --
an uncertain hesitation
of what's behind the other door
The Lady or The Tiger
always on my mind
fluctuations of emotion
a fruit without a rind
Unprotected heart and soul
fears that cannot settle
like the whistle when the water boils
but you can't locate the kettle
Doubts appear --unchecked
bringing completion to this mix
Unless, I give myself away --
an eleemosynary fix
***
Let me know what you think. What works and what doesn't. (Or just tell me how awesome I am, I'll accept that too.)
How I Killed Myself
first
let me explain
about Myself
and why killing
was the best option
imagine
a life not lead
and lead extraordinarily
often at the same time
every day a struggle
with meaning
with banality
Hope was a lottery ticket
agony lasting
so long
it was comfortable
-- only passion --
can overcome comfort
and in a fit
of passion
I killed Myself
it was uncomfortable
at first
having Confidence
quelling the negativity
dwelling on the positive
Control --
without the fear
whether it was a trick
of words or drugs
or a passionate
rebirth is irrelevant
Here's one that I wrote just before I went on to read:
Getting into the Groove
words tumble
like gumballs
across the linoleum
tripping me up
in my attempt to speak
wanting a tinnitus
of language
a tintinnabulation
of syllables
sadly, the din
of myself
seeking solace
in others
shuns the inner
singing voice
And this one's an oldie but a goody:
Eleemosynary Fix *
Why does sadness visit me
when I feel I should be fine
It's a sense of being tipsy
when I haven't tasted wine
Melancholy haunts me
-- a ghostly paramour --
an uncertain hesitation
of what's behind the other door
The Lady or The Tiger
always on my mind
fluctuations of emotion
a fruit without a rind
Unprotected heart and soul
fears that cannot settle
like the whistle when the water boils
but you can't locate the kettle
Doubts appear --unchecked
bringing completion to this mix
Unless, I give myself away --
an eleemosynary fix
***
Let me know what you think. What works and what doesn't. (Or just tell me how awesome I am, I'll accept that too.)
1 Comments:
Awesome, yes indeed! Your whole set was expressive and engaging! Of what you posted, nothing comes to mind that I would want to change. (Sound familiar?)
By Bob Hoeppner, at Wed Mar 15, 08:21:00 PM EST
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