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A home without a wall, |
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| How to Join | Member's Area | Private Library | Search | Sanctuary | Login | |
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| Main Forums | Discussion | Tech Talk | Mature Content | Archives |
A home without a wall, |
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| Open Poetry #37 |
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households and restaurants |
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LeeJ Member Patricius
since 2003-06-19
Posts 13296
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households and restaurants dead salesman bark, demanding collection plates winds unsettle their fumbling hats, throwing them down on their knees, at the airline baggage carrousel confessing, whispering “our father’s”, trying like hell to erase crude graffiti, painted across their faces, by brainwashed referees, aching for tenderness or just one focal expression that sings out…like a goddess…offering them a Bermuda cruise… drinking redneck vodka straight-up seduced by the surging hips of sociopaths with a church wand studying them, I feel like a child who knows acid reflux on a first name basis suffering & terror crawl through youthful ringlet hair taking up permanent residence in the underpasses over Broad Street, their bodies hanging onto st. francis mouthing the words, “please help me, help me!” but die & worms hurry to pick their carcass clean I realize, I’m made in their image…the worms A single mom, trying to build a stairway to anywhere But here However, my incarnation resembles three wishes despite trying to be traditional, absolved and hugged so I’m obsessed with taking showers to get the dirt off, bovine virus soundstages an adult collection of moxie… and a one way ticket to some lighter darkness in reality, there was nothing to hold back my blond hair cept me…so I prayed that I stay sober, only if for just one night, “oh God, keep me awake” the pantry is bare, and the streets weep for me while some grayed out voice becomes a journalist mingling insightful bliss with dead men walking mincing power with the CIA, listening into the natural world for years…I call this a witch hunt they call it, genus… HA! They’re no more competent then mid-century Americans Sucking on their books of love Remarkably saturated with that stale beer smell Wearing Jimmy Swaggart buttons My oh my but we’re cranky, aren’t we? |
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| © Copyright 2006 Lee J. - All Rights Reserved | |||
suthern
since 1999-07-29
Posts 20723Louisiana |
in reality, there was nothing to hold back my blond hair cept me…so I prayed that I stay sober, only if for just one night, “oh God, keep me awake” the pantry is bare, and the streets weep for me Oh, wow. You write the struggle so vividly... excellent work! |
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JL Member Ascendant
since 2004-04-01
Posts 6128Texas, USA |
“My oh my but we’re cranky, aren’t we?” Yep! JL   |
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The Lady Member Rara Avis
since 2005-12-26
Posts 7634The Southwest |
"drinking redneck vodka straight-up seduced by the surging hips of sociopaths with a church wand studying them, I feel like a child who knows acid reflux on a first name basis" Incredible write! |
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HopeS Member Elite
since 2000-12-22
Posts 4596Perth Western Australia |
Lee , you sure packed it all in here , you write what others fail to see Hope |
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
Lee, this was one of your best ranks ever! I really like it. You speaketh the truth, Lady Lee! And I am keeping this one, k?  ....jo |
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XOx Uriah xOX Senior Member
since 2006-02-11
Posts 1403Virginia |
::smiles:: Gotta love the worm. And every once in awhile the soft hiss of the serpent. LOL Awesome!!! It grows more difficult to draw distinctions between the images that are seen...but it is such fun pretending they exist. ((( LeeJ ))) |
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LeeJ Member Patricius
since 2003-06-19
Posts 13296 |
Many thanks to you all for bringing this one back up...please know, that this one is metaphoric, as I am not one to endulge in alcohal, although an occassional frozen margarita or glass of wine tastes nice with dinner. Oh, and on St. Patty's Day, my girlfriend and her hubby made me a black and tan beer...with corned beef and cabbage...yummy! Thanks Pipsters, for your continued support. |
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Honeybunch Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-29
Posts 7115South Africa |
I still love the journeys that you take me on, LeeJ, because you combine so very expertly the inner and the outer. Oh, found this in my mail today - thought I'd pass it on in view of one of your replies today. "I have realized that failure, whether of the personal, professional or even spiritual kind, is essential to personal expansion. It brings inner growth and a whole host of psychic rewards. Never regret your past. Rather embrace it as the teacher that it is." |
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
LeeJ, the cranky needs to happen sometimes...quite a rant here....but I know where you're coming from and I have my cranky days, too. *hugs*....jo |
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StevenS Senior Member
since 2005-09-21
Posts 945L. A. (Lower Alabama) |
LeeJ, you are somethin special! I have no doubt you'll find that lighter darkness and much more! Powerful! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
At the time you wrote this, I wasn't in a place and space to read it. So I'm very pleased it was brought back up, because now it is timely, and indeed, I saw the crank of me in this write at the time of your doing. So thank you for this kick in the rear, dear. Much needed, but even more so, deeply appreciated. |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
I feel like a child who knows acid reflux on a first name basis you write so powerful Lee...and yes you definitely fill the reader's mind with many many images... M |
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ice Member Elite
since 2003-05-17
Posts 3404Pennsylvania |
LeeJ The first stanza haunts, like "The death of a salesman" In it I see Willy Loman "trying like hell to erase crude graffiti" from his very own face. "I feel like a child who knows acid reflux on a first name basis", visceral and crude, yet it brings a sense of pity -perfectly placed wording. "I realize, I’m made in their image…the worms" - excellent opening to this stanza. All, for the most part mellow, straight, standard, modern poetry, until here where you break stride, and the wild horse that didn't show in the first parts comes galloping alive... "while some grayed out voice becomes a journalist mingling insightful bliss with dead men walking mincing power with the CIA, listening into the natural world for years…I call this a witch hunt they call it, genus… HA! " HA!" indeed... "They’re no more competent then mid-century Americans Sucking on their books of love Remarkably saturated with that stale beer smell Wearing Jimmy Swaggart buttons My oh my but we’re cranky, aren’t we?" -Ditto, indeed The mentioning of Swaggert added just the right touch of bitters to the cocktail. *'Tis pity if the case require (Or so we say) that in the end We speak the literal to inspire The understanding of a friend." I believe I understand, my friend...even if you did not speak in literal terms... Love this poem... ----------ice/ford ><> *Robert Frost- from "Revelation" |
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Klassy Lassy Member Elite
since 2005-06-28
Posts 2187Oregon |
"However, my incarnation resembles three wishes despite trying to be traditional, absolved and hugged" Lee, this nearly makes me weep! There isn't any one part of this poem that I can really pick out over the rest to like best. It's amazing how you pen the wariness, loneliness, and hurt sometimes harbored just trying to get through the challenges. The metaphors of innocence and maturity in this give cause to breath deep... ~ Karen |
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