Anyone else noticing it’s been too heavy around here lately? All this blah, blah on
time and religion, and I’m heading ’round the bend.
So … time for a bit of verse. Some of this stuff is new, but some has been sitting around for a couple of weeks, so if you think I’m up to something fishy … well … today’s post is just for the halibut.
Hope Flings Infernos
When the going gets tough
so gnarly and rough
and nothing is working out right
what can a girl do?
just sit there and stew
or fuck it and put up a fightIt’s exhausting, it seems
that so many dreams
end up like a punch in the nose
What appeared to have hope
ends up in a ‘nope’
and you just have to roll with the blowsCuz hope flings infernos
so cover up your nose
and breathe through the space in your fingers
remove glasses rosy
stop being so dozy
and work toward something you know lingers
The “y what rose joe” is an intentional mess inspired by exposure to the punctuation-impaired in a comment on an article about politics:
y what rose joe
(or punk28 2 c)little joe didn’t make it
he died in the war toendallwars
but jack did he make it
preferring the stars toendallstarsyoung rose was defective
so joe made a directive
to get her life lobotomized
while kath was being criticized
for falling for duke protestant
and eunice married sargentpatty did the star thing too
and broke that old divorce ground
while bobby had a zillion kids
he had the catholic rules down
jeans quiet and so still aroundted bridged the generations
politically for family
60some years veneration
that dc has a kennedy
Can’t do verse without angst now, can we?
Grim … and bear it
The idea has come niggling that
a thought I should be giggling at
might actually have meritThat you and I should suck it up
and try not now to fuck it up
and see if we can wear itIt seems it’s been not all that great
since what was ‘us’ succumbed to fate
but, Lordy, could I bear it?You say that if I marry you,
yet promise not to harry you
on women when you share it,perfection would be happening
we both could have our little fling
but that would be the rare bitIf giving all that in and out
while putting yourself all about
means I cannot care, itseems it may not be so wise
to do this drastic compromise
for what can I inherit?Oh, yes, I get to be the Queen
but what that gives me can’t be seen.
With what shall I compare it?Two artists living as they will
by different rules, but yet there’s still
the worry: Can I bear it?
And, of course, we get down to the meat of the matter:
Spank the Monkey
Got a hank, hank, hankerin’
For who? I don’t know who …
sigh …
So a wank, wank, wankerin’
seems just the thing to do …
my! …
Give a thank, thank, thankerin’
if it happened to be you …
guy …
but not bank, bank, bankerin’
that a promise would come true …
sly …
There’re those skank, skank, skankerin’
bitches with their brew …
sty …
that you drank, drank, drankerin’
since it’s all about you, you …
lie …
simply blank, blank, blankerin’
but this we know you knew …
fry …
So we sank, sank, sankerin’
until all was painted blue …
cry …
But this hank, hank, hankerin’
is through and through and through…
why? …
So I’m spank, spank, spankerin’
the monkey till we do …
try …
A collection of my short stories:
I'm in this one, too ...
And I'm in here, as well ...
Paradise Preoccupied 
I can only do verse with angst whether poems or songs they all end up wrong when happy or positive feeling prevail so I’ll wait till dark mood and write in my room and bare my soul at it’s worst.
It does seem to flow better when accompanied by tears …
Great Sandra, Hugs:)
Thanks, Dania …
If you’re ’round the bend Sandra then lots of people are already at the party. I agree though that spanking is best when accompanied by tears. š
Do love the way you mix it up, Bri!
Gawd, you’re good!
I hate to be honest. It’s a bad habit to fall into in an age of public relations firms and advertising agencies, and my mother stressed I should avoid bad habits, but I enjoyed those poems better than I usually enjoy my own. So far as I recall, that’s never happened before, Sandra. At least, it’s never happened for more than one poem at a time. You really have something there, so far as I can see.
I especially liked how you can write in so many different flavors, making each poem distinctly its own thing. I’ve noticed some people cannot or do not do that, and the more you read of them, the more their poems all blend together into some sort of drab and dull mush.
Also, the odd thing was, even the poem I liked the least, I enjoyed reading because your use of word was so clever.
Your poems make me wish I knew more about your poetry. They entice. They seduce. Or whatever the word I’m looking for is.
Why, thank you, Paul.
Which one did you like the least?
Entice? Seduce? I can live with both those words … thanks. There’s more of my stuff here, although not a lot.
Poetry is my release valve. As Yeats said, “Out of the quarrel with others we make rhetoric; out of the quarrel with ourselves we make poetry.”
The least? Spank the Monkey But “least” is relative. I would still pay money for it. It’s good, but my least favorite.
Someday, if we become good friends, I would like you to take a look at my poetry. Maybe you can help me improve it — or maybe I’m beyond help. But it would be nice getting an expert opinion on it.
Always interesting what strikes some people and not others. Thanks.
Would be happy to look at your work, but … be warned … I’m a crap critic when it comes to other peeps’ stuff, and I would never edit poetry. Just don’t have that in me.
A crap critic? I think it would be understandable if you were. I mean during those periods of my life when I have been a fair critic, I have produced no poetry. And during those periods when I’ve produced poetry, I’ve sucked a a critic. The two things don’t seem to mix.
I do a lot of editing work, and I’ve learned to keep my distance and protect my property. Poetry is a different cow to ride, however.
It’s about 4:30 in the morn here. I’m off to grab some sleep. It’s been a real pleasure chatting with you, Sandra! Have a good afternoon and evening!
Thanks. Goodnight …
Ok, fascinating lady, I’m gonna give you links to four of my poems, despite my feeling that doing so is a bit like offering someone a tall glass of pain. I can only hope that doesn’t prove true. Here hey are:
Paula Crossed the River
Throw Your Rockets Far
Who Comes by Far
Without You
If you feel like commenting on them, they are posted on my blog and please feel free to comment there. That way, I’ll always have your comments handy.
Also, don’t feel rushed. Feel free to pursue this when you have the time.
Thank you for doing this, Sandra!
Will do, Paul.
You’re around the bend?
Jeebers, I’ll certainly need to make a note of that, Sandra — otherwise, I will be embarrassed never to remember such an important thing. Especially not when I’m looking at your lovely picture or reading your fresh, intelligent, and creative works.
Been known to howl at the moon, me … or is that moon at an owl? … something like that. Don’t be embarrassed, Paul. I’m not. Feeling pretty good, in fact, after being referred to as lovely, fresh, intelligent and creative on the heels of enticing and seductive. Not a bad Tuesday, all-in-all.
I hope you don’t mind. I’ve begun my liking of you as a person. Can you tell? Have there been hints?
By the way, I don’t think I’m trying to flatter you. Instead, I suspect I blurt out all these nice things about you because they are discoveries — and one is always a bit thrilled to make discoveries. I’d rather not shut up about you because it’s so pleasant to speak my mind. But if I’m offending you, I’ll stop.
Offending? Not bloody likely, Mate! And I have nothing at all against liking, flattering or blurting.
You will probably get a lot of liking from me, then. š
I can take it.
Sandra, do you think I could get your permission to republish your poem, Grim ā¦ and bear it on my blog? Naturally, I would link back to you for proper credit.
Sure, Paul. Happy to have you do that.
Sheesh, man … you didn’t sleep long, did you? I’m off now, so goodnight and good morning.
Thank you so much! I’ve republished your poem, along with some brief comments, here.
I haven’t been sleep well the past two or three days. Don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s seasonal.