Poetry in Motion

Heh. I got jokes.

I’m the one in motion — I’ve left own for a conference in Cincinnati.   It remains to be seen whether the poetry has gone on the road with me.

The Poetic Asides prompt for today is a double prompt, offering up both violence and peace. I’m not sure I’m feeling either prompt today. But we’ll see where this goes. I had the strange experience of walking down the street tonight to find some dinner and finding — in addition to dinner — a distressing series of drunk and angry twenty-something men, several of whom spoke to me — but not really to me, but to whatever person they happened to career into.  So I wanted to write about them — I suppose there’s some violence and peace in there after all.

Vine Street, 9pm

men — boys
really — stalk
my path. Drunk, sad,
one curses, complains.
has left him
bare and in pain.
One misses his mom,
to call
but fears her
many questions,
stinging rejection.

freshly inked,
boasting manhood,
craving touch, comfort.
in their
sharp sadnesses,
they see only hurts.
calls me.
Says, “Mama,
you hold me back.
You leave, I’m nothing.”

hands want
to hold them,
to offer balm,
but I know better.
words call,
but their eyes
are empty, flat,
rage too near the surface.
walk fast,
trust the bright,
silver glow-light —
DANGER! — down my spine.


SOL image 2014


Ever since I’ve known about this conference, I haven’t been able to get the theme song from WKRP out of my head.  I wouldn’t have thought that I remembered that song, and yet … Maybe a few days in Ohio will chase it out.  It’s not all bad, though.  It also reminded me of that Thanksgiving episode:


An Arun is a 15-line poem with the syllable count 1/2/3/4/5 — 3x.  It may be a new thing in the world, made up by me last year.  “Arun” means “five” in Yoruba.


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