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Scattered Dreams

tarablackwood22 said:
D. A. --

I think you have an awful lot to say -- it seems to me there is a lot there that can be molded into very cohesive poetry.

I'm with Perks -- would like to see more from you.

Submit what you consider to be a strong offering so it appears in the 'New Poems" someday soon, and see what type of reaction you get. There are a lot of sophisticated readers here who will react to what they consider a strong piece.

:rose: Tara
Click to expand...


it is so wonderful that new poets are welcomed around here! I am glad to see the rumors are not true
 
New York Impressions 03/05

Subway Blue

Subway's playing subterranean notes
sounds like a shopping cart with a busted wheel

As we walk connecting tunnels
there is a man picking a guitar

His voice is low and rough
leftover cherry bombs
scratchy and smoky.
The blues he sings is original.

I turn to her,
"He's got a good voice for this."
"Crack will do that," she says.

~~~

At the Bowery
(NY, NY 03/05)

Any coffee bar that slings Jack
is OK in my book

Bartender reading Bukowski,
looking bored and egomaniacal.
Appropriate.

It's a jam session in a room
FILLED
to the brim with fashion.

I am fascinated by a little man
his veins cords and parts
all jut and thrum with
disgusted energy.

"BABYLON, THIS IS BABYLON"
He's screaming with mouth drawn down
and arms shaking
the rafters
like a martyr.

I toast my agreement,
wry Jack and Coke.

~~~

Little Italy Mafia Joint

Wood paneling
smoky mirrors
men with greased hair in
low light booths

Bartender's from Philly,
says, "Wuotah" for
"water"
and sounds like a threat
to stick a pipe up your ass
when she takes your order.
I think I am in love with her,
which is a pleasant fantasy
brought about by
a night of free drinks
and her kind of big ass

Such a sucker for either.

~~~

Inconvenience

Every time I say
"Tobacco Hut," "Convenience Store" or "Kwik Shop"
someone pinches up their face and says
"BO-DE-GA"
as if I am declasse' for not slinging
their lingo.
Always, I do not know the person
JUDGE AND TEACHER
who has turned to me.

"You instructive fucker," I think.
"Sure," I say.

~~~

She Took All My Smokes
(www.johnsid.com)

THe symphony is over
I am drinking after-party wine
that is cheap and tastes of thinner.
Some guy is telling
grandiose lies
about being a music composition major.
My cousin tells me that isn't
a course at this college.

I proceed to drink from a bottle
givin the evil eye to an itinerant
soloist
who wants me to pour her a glass.

The liar, adjusting his fanny pack,
starts talking again,
lying right into my left eye
squeezing tears from the duct.
His breath smells like piss-wine
and now it's all about his website
(www.johnsid.com)
Then he's hitting on my cousin.

I begin talking,
two steps from drunk.
Over the top DJ voice
preface every statement with
"JOHN SID, DOT COOOM!"
"JOHN SID, DOT COM Wants to go get drinks!"

It's ridiculous
not just a little petty
hot piss-wine breath
in my eye
equals fighting words
no matter what's said.

a group of us wind up
in dotcom's mini-van
(How gauche, in New York)
we get drinks and food at Juniors.

I drink too much
stumble outside to smoke.
I have been merciless to John Sid
(dot com!)
I want to laugh,
but it's stupid.

A homeless woman
huckstering for change
a spiel that'd be six figures
in sales.

she asks me for a cigarette
hold out the open pack.
she takes five and I am laughing.

~~~

First night, walk ten blocks in the cold
see a classic movie-shot
skyline lights
"She takes care of me" she
"I think she's sexy,
but won't hold you when you cry" I
"That is such a cliche'."
"So?"

~~~

Kiune is Korean.
Speaks English in a
Valley Girl accent.
She needs a husband,
for a green card.
Makes Jewelry,
interesting conversation.

She asks the woman at the counter
for apples,
in Korean.

Hands me one
and we ride the subway
all day,
all the way to the ocean.
 
Hey, D.A.!

Looks like you escaped Boy's Town! Good to see you writing, again.
DeepAsleep said:
New York Impressions 03/05

Subway Blue

Subway's playing subterranean notes
sounds like a shopping cart with a busted wheel

As we walk connecting tunnels
there is a man picking a guitar

His voice is low and rough
leftover cherry bombs
scratchy and smoky.
The blues he sings is original.

I turn to her,
"He's got a good voice for this."
"Crack will do that," she says.

~~~

At the Bowery
(NY, NY 03/05)

Any coffee bar that slings Jack
is OK in my book

Bartender reading Bukowski,
looking bored and egomaniacal.
Appropriate.

It's a jam session in a room
FILLED
to the brim with fashion.

I am fascinated by a little man
his veins cords and parts
all jut and thrum with
disgusted energy.

"BABYLON, THIS IS BABYLON"
He's screaming with mouth drawn down
and arms shaking
the rafters
like a martyr.

I toast my agreement,
wry Jack and Coke.

~~~

Little Italy Mafia Joint

Wood paneling
smoky mirrors
men with greased hair in
low light booths

Bartender's from Philly,
says, "Wuotah" for
"water"
and sounds like a threat
to stick a pipe up your ass
when she takes your order.
I think I am in love with her,
which is a pleasant fantasy
brought about by
a night of free drinks
and her kind of big ass

Such a sucker for either.

~~~

Inconvenience

Every time I say
"Tobacco Hut," "Convenience Store" or "Kwik Shop"
someone pinches up their face and says
"BO-DE-GA"
as if I am declasse' for not slinging
their lingo.
Always, I do not know the person
JUDGE AND TEACHER
who has turned to me.

"You instructive fucker," I think.
"Sure," I say.

~~~

She Took All My Smokes
(www.johnsid.com)

THe symphony is over
I am drinking after-party wine
that is cheap and tastes of thinner.
Some guy is telling
grandiose lies
about being a music composition major.
My cousin tells me that isn't
a course at this college.

I proceed to drink from a bottle
givin the evil eye to an itinerant
soloist
who wants me to pour her a glass.

The liar, adjusting his fanny pack,
starts talking again,
lying right into my left eye
squeezing tears from the duct.
His breath smells like piss-wine
and now it's all about his website
(www.johnsid.com)
Then he's hitting on my cousin.

I begin talking,
two steps from drunk.
Over the top DJ voice
preface every statement with
"JOHN SID, DOT COOOM!"
"JOHN SID, DOT COM Wants to go get drinks!"

It's ridiculous
not just a little petty
hot piss-wine breath
in my eye
equals fighting words
no matter what's said.

a group of us wind up
in dotcom's mini-van
(How gauche, in New York)
we get drinks and food at Juniors.

I drink too much
stumble outside to smoke.
I have been merciless to John Sid
(dot com!)
I want to laugh,
but it's stupid.

A homeless woman
huckstering for change
a spiel that'd be six figures
in sales.

she asks me for a cigarette
hold out the open pack.
she takes five and I am laughing.

~~~

First night, walk ten blocks in the cold
see a classic movie-shot
skyline lights
"She takes care of me" she
"I think she's sexy,
but won't hold you when you cry" I
"That is such a cliche'."
"So?"

~~~

Kiune is Korean.
Speaks English in a
Valley Girl accent.
She needs a husband,
for a green card.
Makes Jewelry,
interesting conversation.

She asks the woman at the counter
for apples,
in Korean.

Hands me one
and we ride the subway
all day,
all the way to the ocean.
Click to expand...
 
That's really funny, because I live in Omaha, home of Father Flanagan's home for wayward boys.

~R
"There's no such thing as a bad boy..."
 
DeepAsleep said:
That's really funny, because I live in Omaha, home of Father Flanagan's home for wayward boys.

~R
"There's no such thing as a bad boy..."
Click to expand...
Yeah, and I've crowed from the top of the waterwheel at Old Mill!
 
DeepAsleep said:
That's really funny, because I live in Omaha, home of Father Flanagan's home for wayward boys.

~R
"There's no such thing as a bad boy..."
Click to expand...

You have an original voice, and I really loved reading your NYC poems. I agree with Fly; it's good to see you again. Your poems keep getting better. :)
 
Snowfall is best in the morning
never feels appropriate in afternoon
powder inches at sunrise are pure.
lunch rush streets look disgusted.

everything runs on sunday time,
this sneaky warm snow morning.
I've eased into place gradual like
today life fits like new socks
stuffed in old boots

it all means kicking at drifts
running about with my
tongue hanging out.

~D.A.
 
in the morning
the smell was everywhere
In every fold of the blanket,
on the pillow
slicking the lengths
each long black filament of
the hair I grabbed

My face smells like freedom
and the promise of it
follows me down the sidewalk
back home.

Single, reeking of sex
and smirking at my see through
reflection in glass windows,
toasting the typists behind
with my soda bottle
my tousled hair
my slow smile.

~D.A.
Life is good.
 
Da

It is good to see your return here at the forum. Your poetry is rich and delicious with vivid textures and a warm willowy seduction. In other words I like lol..
du lac~ :rose:
 
Du Lac said:
It is good to see your return here at the forum. Your poetry is rich and delicious with vivid textures and a warm willowy seduction. In other words I like lol..
du lac~ :rose:
Click to expand...


Oh, pshaw.

I bet you say that to all the girls.

~D.A.
 
Bachelor party bluenotes

someone's been stubbing
cigarettes out on the vent
and mike won't stop eating
my rice and chicken

i burnt the oil when I was drunk
smoke alarm tore out my eardrum
clubbed my brain until
every beat made me wanna puke

so i took out the battery
and i feel saner, if not safer

they can't decide if I'm gay
which is funny.
i write them love letters
when it's their turn to clean
and the general consensus is
that I am trying to make each of them
so fucking jealous
that they'll fight over me

and they don't get why I get the girls

I shower, shave, do my laundry
my push ups, my sit ups,
I practice my smile in the mirror
(that's a lie, but I enjoy the thought)

and it doesn't take three college grads
and an overnight stocker to figure out
that if you don't smell like your butt
you stand a better chance with those
of the breasted persuasion.

I tell them. They don't listen,
and it doesn't matter.

"Gay guys get more chicks, dudes!"
as I hand out love letters,
grinning because it's Rick's turn
at the bathroom
and not mine

it'll still be dirty in two days,
but I will just write him
another uncomfortable letter.

I'm not cleaning it myself.
 
Her mouth is too big
for her face
and she has shaky hands
Every statement is B minus drama class
the feeling is there
but the delivery's a bit off
nothing has the ring of truth

What's a lie?
forced laugh after witty statement
desperate eyes checking your
every facial expression
seeking approval
fear of getting caught out

She's the type of person
who will tell you what you should feel
about what she says.

"This is very sad.
This is very funny.
These are all lies
I tell to make me feel
like more than the
membrane of skin
separating my womb
from the rest of the world."

Unthrust, at 25,
and clinging to something
as paltry as virginity
not spiritually
just for control.
And she clings because
everyone seems to want it
because she clings to it

I play the game with her,
nodding and smiling in all the
right places and

I am charming

I have my hands on the skin
right above her hips,
the place where a light touch
could shiver the frost off the moon
I have my hands
wherever I want them

But for conscience,
I could be her first
and I could wear her like
cheap jewelry
play her like
a ten cent penny whistle

wooden stairs creak like laughing
Unscrewing a bottle of whiskey
I am laughing
but not at her
or my tawdry nobility.

this morning feels like sport fishing
my policy is environmentally sound
and utterly ethical

catch and release.


~D.A.
I probably should have just fucked her.
 
'god this sucks!'
says the woodcarver
as he tries to carve out
that image which has
been stretching in his mind

no, no he can't figure out
what it is. is it a bird or
something wilder
but then he picks up the knife
and starts to mould

himself
 
cward2 said:
'god this sucks!'
says the woodcarver
as he tries to carve out
that image which has
been stretching in his mind

no, no he can't figure out
what it is. is it a bird or
something wilder
but then he picks up the knife
and starts to mould

himself
Click to expand...

I'm not entirely sure what to make of that, but thank you for stopping in and saying something.

~D.A.
 
You hero complex asshole
ought to be here,
so I don't have to watch Yojimbo
all alone. And drink all this whiskey
by myself. You fucker.

Your stupid mowhawk
and how you doubled over
when you laughed

....

Not into this, today. Maybe tomorrow.
 
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