mmg
10-17-2008, 07:46 PM
My friend Nathan is the editor of the Tulane Review and he suggested I submit some of my work. Here are five poems I selected to submit. I have a blog called Bad Silhouette (http://badsilhouette.blogspot.com/) where I post some of my work. In case you want to submit to the Tulane Review the email address is litsoc@tulane.edu and the max number of submissions is five.
I hope you enjoy my poetical musings, because I've definitely enjoyed everyone elses.
The Boggart
Crumbling like leaves in gutters my shrinking stomach grumbles
Mumbling while I putter, from the bed, to floor, darkness stumbles
My thoughts are grape jelly congealing to rubbery elasticity
I light my ear like a candle and sail through the opacity
The walking night, right next to me, hiding behind my head
Lurking around every corner and snoozing under the bed.
“DON’T LIE TO ME!” The boggart moaned in an oily scolding tone
The air was moist like moldy bread, and out of shadows like a phone
He spilt like ink into a glass, into a world that wouldn’t last
Every moment more purple, a visible gas, his presence reeked like ass.
“Why so malicious? Your stench is vicious and sharp like broken dishes.”
“I am what I am, I am by no means a man. Do you mean to be so pernicious?”
“I tend to be rude when lying to night is what I’ve been accused.”
Acting offended in a move so swift and splendid he told me I had to choose
“This world has nothing in it like what I hold in my right hand
Pick it up and grip it tight and it will crumble into sand.
The other thing can’t be smelled or touched, held or seen at all
It mostly functions like a crutch, but can’t even catch you when you fall.”
“DON’T LIE TO ME!” To the boggart I yelled. “I am under my own spell
Keep your treasure in your hand and mind, because I know your tricks too well.
Hold it tight and pass it off as pain or pleasure, constant toil or eternal leisure
As small as sand or as large as oceans, I am no slave to your ignorant notions:
That night is dark therefore not like a feather, or rain is wet so tis unpleasant weather.
I see right through your rues like glass, because what I see is not of the future or past.”
-------------------------------------------
Drominus 2:Pegasus
Out of late night bus mornings
Came a parking lot hoot
From a buzzing pink light
His silhouette was a jagged moon
Barking “Pegasus Pegasus!”
Pegasus, our neighbor’s antiquated yard-mule
Magical bulldog older than we 3 sons
Spoke like a 4 piece demon horn band
Like leprechaun jig on our eardrums
Toxic Pegasus! Hypnosis Pegasus!
We broke our mannequin legs
Orchestrated mass unmakings
Of flower pots, cars, and lawn furniture
The pink flamingo, a flavorful delicacy
For its plasticized musculature
Corrosive night as if seeping from under his paws
Porch-trolling spine-fur snarl-beast
His growl grumbled a churning in his mud guts
His heartbeat sounded like the clacking of boulders
His steaming snort “Pegasus Pegasus!”
On bikes we were Indians whistling
Proud of our chicken plucked feathers
Wearing streaks of their blood and ash
Hiding our packed lunches, juice boxes
Under ten gallon cowboy hats, muffling Pegasus.
Camped on the vertical horizon mountainside
We were sweating like peppermint hard candy
Cracked heads over hot fudge and spam cakes
The chilling night whisper was a campfire tale
An encompassing shiver of fallen clouds
Miles from the mind waves of “Pegasus Pegasus!”
Wizard bulldog, older than the sun
We soon fell deep into a slumber lust, twisted red
Dead would be our ruler Pegasus
Revenge would be our mercy.
Waking crazed we wandered sleep revenge
Our muscles bent on memory of murder
Every step lunged towards Pegasus and cut night
The last cut, was an antiquated yard-mule
Toxic dead Pegasus! Hypnosis revenge Pegasus!
--------------------
Naked Blue World
Naked, much more than uncovered people
Like paint is for billboards, is a streaking landscape
Even rush-hour slows.
Blue, more expansive between rainbows
Like a paper towel in a somber green sea
Is a mop like a rolling cloud.
The world, much larger between people,
Like the subway is for moving
I putter in familiar circles.
-------------------------------
Love and Turkish Fleets
These limbs are the gravity
of the dead prince of Denmark.
The ribs on this Noah's ark
are the mad hatter tree's
peeling back, mercury-black bark.
This gadgets batteries produce
spatterings of acid clumped raisin grease
honeying massive circuitries
in a giant razor blade spruce goose.
These roots of uncertainties short-circuit
the mechanical turbine flees
lost in a mind maze of caravans
of camel winged merchant fleets.
-----------------------------------
Drominus 1:Zigadillo
Creeping up and curling spines from all sides
A bark gargled then withered in the wind
Thrashing at nocturnal silence
A bark that was the haunt
That broke into souls like the reanimated
Scratching at their holed and snapping coffins
Screaming their graves into craters.
In a cracked and weathered paradise
Of frosted lakes, and golden leafed 5 armed gods,
The queen's children,
Rigor mortis in their joints and minds
Retard crazed and chemical strong,
The shemale daemon's binky plugged minions,
Beetling up great flames and their fetid guts,
Howled ripples into stone
Never matching the barks that burned
A screaming pitch in their infant ears.
Murloc, Polgrit, and Abe the fish-frog
A rhino-legged clomping shadow hoard
Pounded the earth into a shrinking knot.
In briar spiked crab shell robes
Marching in Titan's wave-marked helmets
The blinding darkness of their visors
Was cut only by fury and hate.
In their black-hole stomachs
Golden deserts at sparkling twilight
With tar pits and lava flows
Land from where the gaping caverns grow
And tree feathered mountain ranges
Boiled and gargled.
With every steaming bubble
The roaring engine of the hoard
The three pistons plowing by night
Salivated like dogs at sunrise.
Pacing the thorny lonesome trails,
Crop dusting a wake of fly specked fog
In his cloak and jagged mane,
Only Zigadillo's eyes could see
His marsh of splinter weeds and reeds
Rooted in the ashen clouds
Their tops buried in slosh
Furiously grinding his flat-worn tusks
From bloody trap to hooked and squealing prey
To mark the start of a pitch dark night
His crow swallows the light
I hope you enjoy my poetical musings, because I've definitely enjoyed everyone elses.
The Boggart
Crumbling like leaves in gutters my shrinking stomach grumbles
Mumbling while I putter, from the bed, to floor, darkness stumbles
My thoughts are grape jelly congealing to rubbery elasticity
I light my ear like a candle and sail through the opacity
The walking night, right next to me, hiding behind my head
Lurking around every corner and snoozing under the bed.
“DON’T LIE TO ME!” The boggart moaned in an oily scolding tone
The air was moist like moldy bread, and out of shadows like a phone
He spilt like ink into a glass, into a world that wouldn’t last
Every moment more purple, a visible gas, his presence reeked like ass.
“Why so malicious? Your stench is vicious and sharp like broken dishes.”
“I am what I am, I am by no means a man. Do you mean to be so pernicious?”
“I tend to be rude when lying to night is what I’ve been accused.”
Acting offended in a move so swift and splendid he told me I had to choose
“This world has nothing in it like what I hold in my right hand
Pick it up and grip it tight and it will crumble into sand.
The other thing can’t be smelled or touched, held or seen at all
It mostly functions like a crutch, but can’t even catch you when you fall.”
“DON’T LIE TO ME!” To the boggart I yelled. “I am under my own spell
Keep your treasure in your hand and mind, because I know your tricks too well.
Hold it tight and pass it off as pain or pleasure, constant toil or eternal leisure
As small as sand or as large as oceans, I am no slave to your ignorant notions:
That night is dark therefore not like a feather, or rain is wet so tis unpleasant weather.
I see right through your rues like glass, because what I see is not of the future or past.”
-------------------------------------------
Drominus 2:Pegasus
Out of late night bus mornings
Came a parking lot hoot
From a buzzing pink light
His silhouette was a jagged moon
Barking “Pegasus Pegasus!”
Pegasus, our neighbor’s antiquated yard-mule
Magical bulldog older than we 3 sons
Spoke like a 4 piece demon horn band
Like leprechaun jig on our eardrums
Toxic Pegasus! Hypnosis Pegasus!
We broke our mannequin legs
Orchestrated mass unmakings
Of flower pots, cars, and lawn furniture
The pink flamingo, a flavorful delicacy
For its plasticized musculature
Corrosive night as if seeping from under his paws
Porch-trolling spine-fur snarl-beast
His growl grumbled a churning in his mud guts
His heartbeat sounded like the clacking of boulders
His steaming snort “Pegasus Pegasus!”
On bikes we were Indians whistling
Proud of our chicken plucked feathers
Wearing streaks of their blood and ash
Hiding our packed lunches, juice boxes
Under ten gallon cowboy hats, muffling Pegasus.
Camped on the vertical horizon mountainside
We were sweating like peppermint hard candy
Cracked heads over hot fudge and spam cakes
The chilling night whisper was a campfire tale
An encompassing shiver of fallen clouds
Miles from the mind waves of “Pegasus Pegasus!”
Wizard bulldog, older than the sun
We soon fell deep into a slumber lust, twisted red
Dead would be our ruler Pegasus
Revenge would be our mercy.
Waking crazed we wandered sleep revenge
Our muscles bent on memory of murder
Every step lunged towards Pegasus and cut night
The last cut, was an antiquated yard-mule
Toxic dead Pegasus! Hypnosis revenge Pegasus!
--------------------
Naked Blue World
Naked, much more than uncovered people
Like paint is for billboards, is a streaking landscape
Even rush-hour slows.
Blue, more expansive between rainbows
Like a paper towel in a somber green sea
Is a mop like a rolling cloud.
The world, much larger between people,
Like the subway is for moving
I putter in familiar circles.
-------------------------------
Love and Turkish Fleets
These limbs are the gravity
of the dead prince of Denmark.
The ribs on this Noah's ark
are the mad hatter tree's
peeling back, mercury-black bark.
This gadgets batteries produce
spatterings of acid clumped raisin grease
honeying massive circuitries
in a giant razor blade spruce goose.
These roots of uncertainties short-circuit
the mechanical turbine flees
lost in a mind maze of caravans
of camel winged merchant fleets.
-----------------------------------
Drominus 1:Zigadillo
Creeping up and curling spines from all sides
A bark gargled then withered in the wind
Thrashing at nocturnal silence
A bark that was the haunt
That broke into souls like the reanimated
Scratching at their holed and snapping coffins
Screaming their graves into craters.
In a cracked and weathered paradise
Of frosted lakes, and golden leafed 5 armed gods,
The queen's children,
Rigor mortis in their joints and minds
Retard crazed and chemical strong,
The shemale daemon's binky plugged minions,
Beetling up great flames and their fetid guts,
Howled ripples into stone
Never matching the barks that burned
A screaming pitch in their infant ears.
Murloc, Polgrit, and Abe the fish-frog
A rhino-legged clomping shadow hoard
Pounded the earth into a shrinking knot.
In briar spiked crab shell robes
Marching in Titan's wave-marked helmets
The blinding darkness of their visors
Was cut only by fury and hate.
In their black-hole stomachs
Golden deserts at sparkling twilight
With tar pits and lava flows
Land from where the gaping caverns grow
And tree feathered mountain ranges
Boiled and gargled.
With every steaming bubble
The roaring engine of the hoard
The three pistons plowing by night
Salivated like dogs at sunrise.
Pacing the thorny lonesome trails,
Crop dusting a wake of fly specked fog
In his cloak and jagged mane,
Only Zigadillo's eyes could see
His marsh of splinter weeds and reeds
Rooted in the ashen clouds
Their tops buried in slosh
Furiously grinding his flat-worn tusks
From bloody trap to hooked and squealing prey
To mark the start of a pitch dark night
His crow swallows the light