This is the 499th post on my blog, begun in July of 2006, which means my next post must be triumphant, apopleptic, egregious and all-encompassing--or a mildly entertaining read.
I thought I'd use today's numerically less significant post to compose a spontaneous poem. Here goes:
Halloween 2008
I carved a cat-face shadow in a pumpkin.
Our teeth are always breaking down.
Dentists prepare the perfect crown.
After the candle the display was passable.
Protect your temporary crown
Do not chew up, do not chew down.
Light leered through lens of feline eyes,
my knife-work softened by the glow.
The cat did not appear a threat.
Dentists carve the dead stuff out,
that burning smell--you know the drill.
The pumpkin looked respectable.
I sat in an orange Volkswagen
convertible of leather and chrome
and wished the ragtop were my own.
I love the new car smell of it,
like Cinderella in her coach.
Goddamn my tooth! It hurts like shit!
Day by day the pumpkin turned
more hideous, frosted with mold
in dangling white or speckled black.
I've always driven convertibles, ah
the smell of eucalyptus groves!
Furry white fungus hung from feline eyes.
Soon its mien began to look like Satan.
The light along its ears turned into horns.
The temporary crown must be respected
Sans chew, sans gum, sans mints, sans everything.
If the gourd turned evil in my care
the candlelight would guard against despair.
Soon after I employed this course of action
the Jack-O-Lantern fell into the garden,
a Humpty-Dumpty wannabe from hell.
If it was evil I will never know.
But as for toothaches, pain is pain:
Pain writes the history of the body.
Well, that was fun! Comments appreciated.
Much to report but the poem wore me out.
Long day in court. I wore a tie for the first time since August 2007 at Rachel's memorial. I think I might have won my case. Our former landlord is a lightly gilded though not gelded asshole.
2 Kilobunnies,
CE
Spontaneous poem.
ReplyDeleteYou used to have a specific name for these creatures back in the good old Melic days. What the heck was it? Something about one stroke, maybe? Something about Chinese painting?
I think JZ ended up calling it writing in the box if the poem was composed, without any editing, within the post box.
Chinese brush stroke? Is that it?
Not bad for spontaneous, CE.
I'd like to read the poem about wearing a tie for the first time since your daughter's memorial. There's a poem in that.
My father loved ties. I used to buy the most beautiful ties for him every father's day. After he died, my mother cleaned out his closet...and couldn't bear to part with those ties. I'm hoping one of her friends with quilting skills might be able to use them in a quilt.
Chinese brush stroke. I haven't thought of that exercise in years. It's a good exercise, writing fast and furious without hesitation, without circling back to edit.
After all this time, I still miss Melic and the gang. It's the only poetry forum that truly felt like home for me.
Chines Brush Experiment.
ReplyDeleteI visit other boards but no longer feel the excitement of so many good poems being posted; haven't found one recently that is neither over-approving nor hypercritical.
Ties. Most male mammals are peacocks, Jimi Hendrix dressed appropriately. The tie is all some have left. I'd like to see your poem on your father's ties!
CE
p.s. This was not a strict CBE; I edited it briefly.