See, Say, Read, Write challenge: Poems and recordings

[Tzara]

This thread is reserved for responses to the January 2016 See, Say, Read, Write challenge. Please post questions, comments, or other material in the main contest thread here.

 

[Tzara]

Poem and Recording #1

Fish Story
What can we do but keep on breathing in and out, modest and willing, and in our places?
—Mary Oliver

Sometimes I have this strangest dream,
that my nose wasn't made to breathe
and I can barely smell the water
inside my goldfish bowl.

And then I'm suddenly tossed
in a little jar where my fins can't move,
and I float to the top belly up, so to speak,
looking up on my side at a sky going black,

but then I wake up in my bowl again,
so I'm having a dream in my dream
where I wonder if there's a Fishgod.
There must be I say to myself.

I have enough fish flakes to eat,
and somehow my bowl gets cleaned,
and maybe that's all I really need
to go with the flow and just breathe.​

Poem by greenmountaineer

Read by greenmountaineer

 

[Tzara]

Poem and Recording #2

Mr. Mousse

Texture

is everything

Swoon at the smoothness
succulent and supple,
vivid and rich, and
exquisite like truffles.

Tactile heaven nestled
in a special vessel—
in your haste,
your ravenous commotion,
do you crave a taste?
Call my name, I'm the surge, the swelling ocean,

and you can bet

I'm wet​

Poem by AlwaysHungry

Read by champagne1982
Read by legerdemer

 

[Tzara]

Poem and Recording #3

Phil Ochs - L’Hibou - April, 1974

He came to a clapboard cafe
in this northern land.

Once listed with Dylan
now playing
in the middle of nowhere
at the tag end of winter.

I came to see a legend
worshipped
on scratchy records,
but the bottle etches
deeper than diamond.

Chords slurred
lines forgotten
leaving only
sadness.

Later his suicide
was formalized
but a dead man
played Ottawa
that April night.​

Poem by Piscator

Read by Piscator

 

[Tzara]

Poem and Recording #4

Mighty Mouse

We were never quite sure
if she was truly brave
or just fucking bug-nut crazy

I called her Mighty Mouse
though, not to her face
'cause I'm not crazy

She was this little slip of a thing
cute as a button and
sweet as could be

Until something got her hackles up
then you'd swear her fiery hair
was just proof that she was a hell hound

I don't think she ever went looking for trouble
but boy when it crossed her path
was it ever sorry

You'd think something so little
would be the one that needed protecting
but not her

She was her own protection
and truth be told
mine, one dark night

It twern't the sky that was dark though
it was Bobby's temper
jealous rage, as usual

Only this time, he wasn't just shoutin'
he hauled off and smacked me a good one
was fixing to do it again too

But Mighty Mouse jumped in front of me
and calm, but loud, she said
"Why don't you pick on someone you're own fucking size"

Shocked and scared as I was I laughed
Ya gotta understand
Bobby wasn't no small boy

He was a varsity linebacker
used to hitting and taking hits
and she barely topped his waist

But there she stood
feet spread
waiting for him to make a move

When his face went all red
I swallowed deep
and thought about running

Not her
she started swaying back and forth on her feet
just waiting to see what he'd do

Now, I couldn't see her face
with her back to me
but I saw Bobby's

Whatever he saw, gave him pause
'cause he let out a breath
and stepped back from Mighty Mouse

I stood there and watched the fight go out of him
Mighty Mouse looked at him a minute
then nodded before she turned to me

"You're too smart to let that ever happen again,
ain't cha" she said
I just nodded at her and she walked away

Now, like I said,
I never called her Mighty Mouse to her face
but after that, she was always just Heather to me

Now we didn't become friends or nothin'
She was four or five years younger than me
and I was off to college in the fall

But I knew she hated being teased about her size
and suddenly
I didn't find the title Mighty Mouse amusing any more

I saw her around when I was home on breaks
and we'd say hey in passing
'til my senior year when she left town

I don't know where she went, no one seemed to know
but where ever she is
I hope she's still just as fierce as she was back then​

Poem by Trixarefor kids

Read by Trixareforkids
Read by Lyricalli

 

[Tzara]

Poem and Recording #5

Untitled

The night sky
hangs over the world
like a sadist's boot
stretching out
the moment of
terror
before it falls¹

to land
in your eyes
blue
bleeding down cheeks
as the stars
disappear
from your life

when
between
one breath
and the next
I answered your love
with silence

¹Glen Cook: Passage at Arms​

Poem by Trixareforkids

Read by greenmountaineer
Read by Sinseria
Read by Trixareforkids

 

[Tzara]

Poem and Recording #6

Untitled

It is not in the dark that we stumble
blind to everything but
the need to feel
our way clear
led solely by touch
unable to see the
wounds left in the wake
of our passage
from the cavernous deep
only tripping as our eyes
are struck by the light
others carry for us

Our senses fooled
we believe that light
brings warmth
and we bend ourselves
around it
ignore the ache
that accompanies
this hunching of our true
heights and depths
afraid to face affection
head on or to
eclipse their moon-
ing call we instead
crawl through the brambled
woulds treading carefully
so as not to rip open
our crusted cuts

Still, we become infected
poisoned into paralysis
unable to retreat or
forge new paths
while trapped in the piercing
rays of sunny expectations
our caves lay empty
the true source
of our inner heat
a distant echo ringing
in our ears waiting
for us to wake up
drag the carcass of our
dreams back into its
depths and gnaw on the bones
hoping the marrow
is enough
to sustain us​

Poem by Trixareforkids

Read by Tzara
Read by todski28

 

[Tzara]

Poem and Recording #7

Jazz Van

my feet tap and fingers snap
the horn solo's its bounce
makes me frown and sway
as I follow the riff
then the tink of a cymbal
tink, tink, it's time for the
bass to thump its beat
the one that sets the tone
and my heart lifts

the music is all that matters
in this time
in this place
let it all go to hell
as I shut off
and swing
just swing​

Poem by todski28

Read by Angeline

 

[Tzara]

Poem and Recording #8

Farewell to the Patriarch

It was those myriad details I recall:
the dark little rooms, coat rack in the hall
the terra-cotta stove, the creaking floors
the evening cups of tea, the plate of cheese
the butter knife held unsteadily
walks in the park holding your hand
in the evening Danube breeze
your syncopated gait as one shoe dragged
stories you told and songs you sang.

I didn't see it then, your father's love
embrace enough to push and prod and scold,
until you pushed your chicks out of the fold
bade them—and us, their chicklings—
a heartbroken farewell.

Across the ocean to lands of open skies
some scraped by glass, metal and hubris
others with deserts, blood-stained rocks.
No longer moored in family lore
nor blanketed with familial warmth
two families saved, one broken,
anchored to distant shores and hopes.

No words could contain the loss,
or your inevitable death—alone.​

Poem by legerdemer

Read by greenmountaineer
Read by AlwaysHungry
Read by gypsyTX

 

[Tzara]

Poem and Recording #9

Rememories For A Lover

I have heard your words for longer
than I remember the whispers
and the smiles drawn like butter
up from the flesh dipped
into that sizzling heat and sweet
leisure of layering the savoury
melting all along sensation.

I remember the cold press of hard
windows in November tasting metal
ice from a lip caught too tightly
in strong, white teeth clenching
back low groans of passion
vibrating along the spine strong
and flexing in concert with snowed
gusts around the corner.

I know that even so now that my ears
sing tinny tunes and scars
striate my body there is still time
for sneaky presses and slippery
passes through cold northwestern winters
and hot Alberta summers flip flopped
fantasies and todays that are yesterday's
tomorrows left over from then.​

Poem by champagne1982

Read by champagne1982

 

[Tzara]

Poem and Recording #10

She is Flesh and Blood

not some porcelain doll
or
some precious crystal
that is to be put on the highest shelf
adorned, alone, viewed but never
touched

this pedestal has choked her
stolen the breath from her lungs
driven a wedge deep enough
for her to not realise
the beat of her heart
the curve of her hip
the firmness of her breasts
should be desired
held
used
till mutual satisfaction

the heat in her cheeks
the swell of her clit
these things are flesh and blood
not a blow mould statue
or antique heirloom
not a tapestry

should be a finger painting
to be traced, enjoyed
indulged in feeling
once the page is used
grab another

not seeking perfection
but a connection
to you
and your heart
take her down from the pedestal
play
laugh
dream in sepia and velvet
anointed in passion
awash in desire

for god sakes
let her breathe
then take her breath
with your fire
not because she is gagged by
pedestals and indoctrination​

Poem by todski28

Read by Sinseria

 

[Tzara]

Poem and Recording #11

“Sometimes it's easy to walk by because we know we can't change someone's whole life in a single afternoon. But what we fail to realize it that simple kindness can go a long way toward encouraging someone who is stuck in a desolate place.”
―Mike Yankoski

Hope

Love is not a given,
security not a certainty.

Home must have been unbearable
for you to choose to live
by leaving,
to swap four square a day for hunger,
a warm bed for wariness.

And where will your frailty fall tonight?
Huddled in dark doorways
sandwiched between cardboard
and yesterdays news
or sharing hostile haven
with strangers?

Leaving that dysfunction
for this despair
when the pin-ball existence
of fostering fell apart
took courage.

You are Legion,
society’s shame,
left-overs from the feast
of selfishness.

Street-smarts may save you
from disease and deviants,
with hard-won trust
you’ll find a mentor,
a saviour with salvation on their mind
to set you on the road to renewal.
All you really need
is a seed of a chance,
the rest you’ll do on your own.​

Poem by GuiltyPleasure

Read by Lyricalli

 

[Tzara]

Poem and Recording #12

Anything But Spring

She needs me to want her,
to desire the strands of hair as they fall
flowing from the tussled mane of sweat soaked skin
to look on her as my survival
to worship at the ground she ripens with each pass,
she is anything but spring
winters wet and summers burn
yearn for the cold fires embrace

to taste of artesian springs and sup on hunted feasts
gather berries ripe with juice
and lay beneath dream spun skies
count the stars as we make them ours
before dawns damned light
unfurls its unspun voodoo
casting those lasting curses on delicate retinas
the scent of her lingers on me
and every breath brings tears
reach exceeded by beaded breath in the chill of autumn's wake​

Poem by todski28

Read by AlwaysHungry
Read by todski28

 

[Tzara]

Poem and Recording #13

Worship

She kneels before hymn
Wide-eyed
Upturned gaze
Her ruby lips parted
Imagination breaks the seal
To a sacred holy place
Transcending hymn
To heavenly gate
An angel
Spreads her wings

A musky smell of incense
The sweetest smell of innocence
Just a sip of wine
As rouge as her lips
A body
Waiting
To be taken
Alabaster white
As pure as a flake
Of virgin snow

A celestial choir sings
Homage to the holy divine
As high note pierces
Rapturous harmony ensues
Crescendo reaches for
Climactic conclusion as
Last chord is struck
And
…Finale
Comes
…Then
…Peaceful
…Contemplation

Silently
She rises
And
Slowly
Walks
Away

It was just a blink in time
A shadowy thought caught
In a flicker of candlelight
No real sin committed
No confession required
For this communion
Was undeniably
Just
In
The mind​

Poem by HoneyAdored

Read by Trixareforkids

 

[Tzara]

Poem and Recording #14

Anything But Spring

seasons blur, mingled together
by the scattering of islands adrift
in providence

"providence he spat the word like some curse"
life has shown you get what you get
all that karma malarkey,
wonder what all the children getting bashed and raped
did wrong to the universe heh
we all need a little perspective sometimes
blunt perspective in the shape of a jug cord
or steel toed boot
yet he makes sense
or was it just rationalization of whiskey
beer and brutality

the world turns and here we are again
a little older a little more jaded by the way that
it's all made, clichéd and degraded
first time poison
well first time taking a direct hit
none of this second hand smoke
on the path to broke and broken
the family heirloom
of booze and bruises any drug that skims the edge off
pity is like an overzealous carpenter it takes more every time
to plane the edges to find the level
the house is bending and props
well they're just a make do aren't they . . .

autumn is here
its cool crisp air makes the skin feel alive
it rains colours but the walls don't melt
and the trees don't breathe
like they do in acid dreams
Mind the screams are they mine
mingled like some kind of mess
a child would concoct out of a cupboard
when you're so out of it you can't control your bladder
let alone look after a child

summer again
thoughts of rain long gone
less clothes though on the women folk
one night stands melt into puddles like ice
left on a bench along with all the dishes
growing mould cultures
because that is culture to the bottom rung
sing me a song, sung by the downtrodden
and I'm sure it'll contain anything but spring
because spring is the time the world
says go fourth and multiply
where the weather smiles
and fuck smiling it hurts my face

the past is like herpes sometimes
springs up on you when you least expect it
brings with it those weeping sores
maybe not providence
we all have to believe in something though.​

Poem by todski28

Read by Trixareforkids
Read by todski28

 

[Tzara]

Poem and Recording #15

Are You Listening

I know you're out there
somewhere little bits and
bytes of you are floating
finding without seeking
a kind of piece
to settle into

I can't help but wonder
if you know
what you're doing
are you listening
can you hear your
self still or
have you gone
beyond the pale
horizon's edge
into the unknown and
unforeseen

Where ever you are
if you get this message
I'd, like you
to know
I'll be here
listening
for your voice in my ear​

Poem by Trixareforkids

Read by Trixareforkids

 

[Tzara]

Poem and Recording #16

Caribbean Dream

You would think we'd have seen it
as it crested the horizon
before us, but that must have happened
during the night;
dawn had risen and shown us
a familiar, but not terribly, silhouette that
grew into forests, and beaches,
a singular pier jutting out
like an extended hand
welcoming us.

I sat on a deck chair and breathed
the salty mist, pausing in savoring it
to spit a few stray tobacco leaves
that had escaped the end of
the unfiltered Camel I'd told
Robert I would have in his honor on
finally making my way
to the place we'd dreamed of
for so long.

The sound of nails being pounded
floated to where we were mooring
the ship, making me wonder as I
drew the silky sails down for
storage whether we were already
having to make repairs, or if Helen
was still expanding from cabana
to actual dwelling.​

Poem by Remec

Read by legerdemer

 

[Tzara]

Poem and Recording #17

Femme Fatale

For the error bred in the bone
Of each woman and each man
Craves what it can not have
Not universal love
But to be loved alone.
—W. H. Auden

So now it’s come to this:
some oxymoronic oxygen tube
leaves a breathless desert, Darling,
on the sharpest tongue in Hollywood.

But, Darling, you still have your fame
you say to yourself inside your mind,
however much you've forgotten your lines
for the final crossroads; time to choose

as your erstwhile eye-shadow eyes,
never together at the same party,
one always jaded, the other stark naked
in its socket looking at a little girl inside,

no longer can see your hourglass waist,
but its hourglass granules left
as if your pearl drop necklaces drop
strings of tears in the sands of time.​

Poem by greenmountaineer

Read by Trixareforkids

 

[Tzara]

Poem and Recording #18

Tinder

Age is always a problem.
It's the mismatched shoe in the closet
of how comfortable I feel
when you are suggesting
that we mate. I know how
you believe it is a compliment
that you want to sleep with me.
I am sorry, but it is not, when
you think that will make me easy
to slip into your bed. I might
want your body, but sex is not
all that simple. And, no, I am
not talking about coupling.
There has to be something else
to even make the mechanics
of pump and thrust rewarding
for me, baby. I don't always
want love, but I want something
more than desire, more than
I just hope I can get out of here
in the morning before she
remembers my name kind
of thinking. I want some
connection. Even if it's just
palms we slapped when we rented
the room, or that business card
from a job you no longer have.
I can always own that, even
if it was never close to Paris.​

Poem by Minervous

Read by Lyricalli

 

[Tzara]

Poem and Recording #19

Worlds Away

The frangipani blossoms round my neck
give off their heady scent.
The heavy laden tropic air
above the calmed surface played,
ruffling the water’s blues and greens
and makes me think of your green eyes
like oceans’ deep.
With gentle hands beneath the surface
now you’ve reached, patiently smoothed storms.
Dark skies, the playful blinks of stars,
Orion’s belt a reassuring sign that earth is round.
You see it too, when you look up,
though too much light obscures our love,
the brightly shining planet in its orbit rides.
You are my star, my savior, and my knight
and even ‘cross the universe I look for you
and bide my time until the day we meet again
to share our love.​

Poem by legerdemer

Read by legerdemer

 

[Tzara]

Poem and Recording #20

Ever So Gently

The droning Piano rings the dinner bell and all thru the wood, Crow, Meadowlark, Jays, Sparrows, Kestrels, Junkos, Gulls, Swallows, Blackbirds and Finches circumnavigate the pale sky, drawn to the bellows of the sound.

Tides lap inward on shores, wind eases to a standstill, stars shine ever bright while a green hue rises up from lands otherwise pale.

Memory of things gone are present, clear glimpses of reason and recognition as frozen lakes act as looking glasses into a labyrinth of deeper blues.

Here we sit gifted by the turning of things, not on just any day, but in the chance and the folly of such meanderings, this day this connection here and now.

And finally our incessant talks of past, present and to come cease to move as under the twisted giant spruce trees, our talks turn to lips brushing ever so gently.

Shoulders mingle, bottoms of feet meet, hair drapes from her head over mine, talks turn to lips brushing ever so gently. Her breasts rustle against my flat chest, her back stands straight and tall, and our talks turn to lips brushing ever so gently.

In centers and middles power engines purr and we mingle, our talks turned to lips brushing ever so gently.

The promise of a life, timeless, long and short in the moment, made of edifice as constant as smoke dancing, all at ease all at ease, as our talks turn to lips brushing ever so gently.

Whispers ever so faintly, I love you, dear one, dear heart, as the ocean swells and the flying creatures circle higher and higher, until disappeared behind the black veil where the stars dance in your eyes in a promenade of love, devotion, surrender.​

Poem by eagleyez

Read by Tzara

 

[Tzara]

Poem and Recording #21

black cherry heaven

if i were the one
to write about temptation
i'd throw away the apple:
too white-bread american
too sugar-crust, too
naive

i'd think about the snake
sinuosity
wrapped around the curve of a limb
tongue testing
black eyes shining
perfectly camouflaged
amongst burgeoning fruit

i'd pluck the berries
so dark, so ripe
so rich with worldly knowledge
so full of S-sense...
swollen, smooth, taut flesh
sweet and tart and
such sublime succulence
to pop eyes open wide -
once tasted, never forgotten
no returning to the state of unknowing

spit out the stones
spread the word
bodies and minds are made for this

as the stain runs down his chin
i'd kiss his purpled lips
taste his dark desires
press plump fruits between white thighs
invite him come dine
on black cherry heaven​

Poem by butters

Read by UnderYourSpell

 

[Tzara]

Poem and Recording #22

Beauty of Life

Sing for me my demons
A song of the painted night
Whisper for me upon my ears
The bells of your sainted souls
In a sacred psalm of life

Cast in the wind
My darkened lullaby
Carry away the midnight hour
Infused with scented fragrances
Of sleepy roses and sandalwood

Rest your lips
Upon my weary face
Wash away the tears of agony
The bitter moist and salted
Reminisces of misery

Bring comfort to my mind
Under the moons sheltering heart
Beaming incantation of soothing light
Glimmering from the edge of time
In ambiance of the darkness

Kisses of sweet whispers
Beseeched in the breath of time
Embraced in the arms of warmth
Gentled in the chill of the night
In the hearth of Earthly slumber

An undertone of our blessed souls
A faded breath of a murmur
Chanted upon our whispering minds
And stilled in a forgotten time
Held in silence to the beauty of life​

Poem by Sinseria

Read by HoneyAdored

 

[Tzara]

Poem and Recording #23

An Empty Temperature

Another cold month I'm confined inside.
The building shows aches as an icy, dry wind blows. Outside
a stranger stares through my window and tries not to let her shivering show.
Another cold month I'm confined outside. The building won't let my shivering show.
He stares out his window and watches the winds as he watches my smile as I watch his heart grow.

I feel the warm air as I enter inside and hold my intentions that show me I'm wrong.
There's no room to sit, so I stand by the window so nothing's as cold as the stares from my back.
I brace for a touch that's never been spoken. I feel like my feet are still standing in snow.
The grip becomes tighter to show me I'm wrong and thin ice in my skin lets the blood start to flow.

I turn to my back and ask the same question and hold my intentions that show me I'm wrong.
There's no room to sit, but I don't feel a stranger, and the glass that's behind feels remarkably strong.
I put on a show for the people outside as we both hold our breath and let the cold go.
We turn to the glass and see no one is there. The winds are outside and there's nothing that's wrong.​

Poem by JanneE

Read by JanneE

 

[Tzara]

Poem and Recording #24

Willy's in the Sixth Grade Confused

He tells all the boys in the schoolyard
he just kissed Margaret in the closet
where Mrs. Silverstein asked them to get
the microscope and her seed collection
next to a jar with a cool dead frog.

He knows what he says isn't true
since Margaret doesn't giggle at boys
and tells all the puzzled faces in school
about Phytophthora infestans,
the famine, and her Irish relations,

but his face was as red as Margaret's lips
when she said Phytophthora infestans
he thinks about alone in his bed
when stars come out in a deep purple night
and, try as he might, he doesn't know why
he can't get out of his head
Phytophthora infestans.​

Poem by greenmountaineer

Read by greenmountaineer