Sickness

There's more to just being sick
Than a cough in your throat
A tickle in your nose
And a jumping sensation in your stomach

It's the total bloody feeling g
Of losing all control
Being out of your element
And trying to find a damn doctor that speaks just the slightest hint of English

This is harder than it sounds
And then when you do find one
You discover
That she tells you that

You have the flu and bronchitis
Because these are the only two words
She can remember how to say in English
So much for doctors

Pills are subscribed
And you feel like a drug addict with your
Plastic pouches of God-knows-what
But you're in Korea, so what can you do?

More bad first dates

This one's from another fellow GEORGIA PEACH I met in Korea. She calls her writing self "Nadibelle." Go recruitment to the blog! She asked me to post since google is being a bit of an asshole in letting her make an account. Thanks for the contribution, and I hope you get an account soon. Look forward to hearing more from you on the blog. "It's a small world after all."

I had hardly left the other

When My eyes wandered away

I knew he wasn't the one for me

But I guess I was ready to stray

I remember how I ended

The old relation.shit

I was in the car with the new one

And on the phone, the first one's ears lended

I said, "I'm sorry, things just aren't working out"

"You see, I found happiness, once you weren't about".

And Happiness was looking

Across the seat at me.

As soon as our cellulars turned to tone

The interest's lips and I did meet.

Buttferlies conjured around my insides

And my shirt so did lift at his touch.

I pulled away to make sure

That he was what I wanted...

I was his before the kiss,

When we sat alone in his old car

We often talked to each other,

letting secrets fill the air...

It wasn't long before I was caught up in hopeless, hapless, innocent love

It wasn't long before he blurted, "I love you", in a sandwhich shop.

Smiling, and shaking, and nervous, and joyous I just looked down and basked

"Could he really have just said, what I think I heard?"

He nodded in approval and said, "You don't have to say anything".

But love like this can't last for long,

and distance set us apart

Distance to me was just a test of my ability

To be, one gracious-girlfriend- stick-in-the mud, whose heart belonged to he

But, to distance, his heart so did growingly palpitate...

Into the dormroom of a girl

I once did think to be a friend

Hence, I did say, "did"...

I forgave them both, for we are human

And now thinking back,

I can't remember much else, except this grotesque fact.

Well, no, I lie, I remember many a good time,

But the way it ended spoke to me
Louder than a herd

Of galloping elephants trumpeting their elongated snouts

What a douche

Someone Else's Childhood Memory

It’s not you; it’s me
I’m the one
That needs the work
Forgive me
I shall be myself in a few days

Climbing
Shouting
Anxiety
Bills
Cream

It’s all about the cream
That Damn cream
Everything doesn’t have to be about the whipped cream
Or does it?
Why can’t I have a normal life?

Waiting in line
For an oil change
Came across a little café
We were hungry
So we thought we would grab some lunch

I’ll have a salami sandwich on rye
He’ll have a bowl of your soup du jour
Why are you ordering for him miss?
I don’t know
Habit I guess

He would also like
Your crème burlee
With extra whipped cream
I do?
You always want the whipped cream

I do not
You do too
Can I just order my own damn meal?
You don’t love me anymore
You used to always let me take care of you

There were no kids
Just the car
That was broken
And the salami sandwich and soup du jour
And that whipped cream

Creamy chowder with biscuits
And tomato enchiladas with cheese
You should watch your cholesterol intake
I want you to be around with me until I die
Who says I wouldn’t?

Your diet says you wouldn’t
Says who?
Cheese? Whipped Cream?
You’re the one who ordered the whipped cream!
I was just trying to please you!

Can I get you anything else?
A beer?
A glass of wine?
Oh we don’t drink here
Says who?

I would like a drink
I would like a whiskey
The hard stuff
It’s the only way I’m going to tolerate
The rest of the afternoon

And the bill
For the car
God I don’t want to know how much that
Bill
Will be

Some last haikus of the season!

Where have all the grateful gone?

Why me! she repeats
Employed, healthy and engaged
Please! do keep whining


The forgetting

You were a poem
I wrote into memory
Now, even that fades


And this one is from a favorite poet of mine Charles Simic

Watermelons

Green Buddhas
On the fruit stand.
We eat the smile
And spit out the teeth.

A night of spoken word poetry

He spouts poetry
liquid rhymes that slip through teeth
so fast you can't blink

Damn that hindsight--it's always 20/20

In retrospect
It wasn't such a great idea
To make snakes out of balloons

It was harmless
I promise

Provided hours of entertainment
For unknowing children ages 6-8

Little did they know
What the final product
Would look like

(No, it didn't get better after painting.)




And the laughter in the staff room
Hours, days, months
Later

They say I'm no good at sexual innuendo
But I've cracked
A "That's what she said"
A few nice times
Before "That's what she said"
Was hip
Before Micheal Scott



No, not one of my finer moments
As an art educator
And creative leader
Of small children

It was messy
Oh damn!
I've done it again
Spot the sexual innuendo there



So yes, there is a lesson in here somewhere
I've never attempted snakes
Again
In my project forays

Stuck to safe subjects
Like faces
With balloons
Anyone?

I am a horrible person.


An add on--I'm on fire tonight!

Don't stop now!
You're on fire
Tonight
Little did we know
The balloons, er, subjects...er
Whatever...

Were WAY too big
Too rough
Not the right size
Not the right shape
ALL WRONG

It won't fit
If only we would have gotten the
Expensive balloons
The longer ones

What went wrong?
Glue makes the stuff
Less slippery
And more slippery

Is that what you want?
I don't know what I want
I'm just the INTERN!

I bet you are learning a lot
At the CHILDREN'S MUSEUM.
OH YES.
OH YES.
YES.

Can I come back next year?

It's January 31, 2010

Have I accomplished any of my said resolutions yet?
Not a damn one

Am I proud of myself?
Absolutely.

That's what February is for
January is just
Too damn cold
To do anything
Remotely
Productive
In the state of
Minnesota

Here's to a productive and happy February, all.
And when Maki gets back from Vegas
He not only will have stories to tell
But hopefully new poem topics as well.

all the boys of myth (a love poem)

yesterday i spun a tale
cynical about love
clutching each thin strand
saying i'd never lead you out again

that was a lie

time still slows
at the command of your smile

sometimes i dream running
a pace set to a song
you are strumming across
the strings of my soul
an old song made new
in a rush of blood
from my shuddering heart

it breaks free from encircling bark

just let my warm hand
brush across your rough stony cheek
and make it flesh again

fingers graze across lips
brow rests on brow
grey blue lost in blue

boy
drop your bow
and kiss me

no one
(not even you)
craves solitude.

Little Bobby

With the success of his Sicilian defense

Trickling down to a late fourth quarter lead

Bobby the Brat turns on the full-court press

While Shy Sam can only muster a whimper

And yet

Sam swallows the lump in his throat

Wipes the sweat from his brow

His shaking hand moves his own queen

To destabilize Bobby the Bastard’s foundation

The audacity

Puts Bobby the Bellicose on edge

Foaming like a feral beast

Anger steams from his head

Veins throb over forehead and through eyeballs

Bobby the Bold bobs his rook into place

To attack Sam’s king

However

The usual cold, calculating child

Has left his flank wide open

Sam senses the shift

Can taste the temporary opportunity

With nimble digits he dismantles Bobby the Brash’s rook

Rancor emerges from the other side of the table

The crowd

Once dispersed and horrified but still watching

Like they could see the oncoming slaughter

But now

Sacrosanct Sally circles around

Recalling how Bobby the Blasphemer mocked Christ

In reading class last week

She is silently praying for retribution from her savior

And Tater Tot Todd

Cannot help but let loose a tentative yip!

Recollecting stolen lunch money on tater tot Thursdays

In fact, the crowd has silently developed a life of its own

Even parents cross fingers

Hoping for the dethroning of Bobby the Bully

And sure enough

After the mustering of his pawns

And the skilled control of his queen

Shy Sam is able to trap Bobby the Belligerent’s king

And claim a comeback kid victory

Infused with the enthusiasm from the crowd

Sam is swept off his feet

They chant

Sam!

Sam!

Wham!

Bam!

Thank you Sam!

What a nice ending to the story huh?

Sam forever is enshrined as the one

Who took down Bobby the Booger

We all lived vicariously through his young heart

His sweaty hands

And what of Bobby?

Bobby will grow up to be a mass murderer

A loner who picks people out from crowds

Because they look like Shy Sam

Like Sacrosanct Sally and Tater Tot Todd

Because they look like you and me

So

Still happy Sam won?

Soliloquy of an Irate Second-Grade Chess Champion

"See here, fucker.

In my other life, I was 

the Kryptonic fear in 

Superman's eyes.  I was 

Optimus Prime's worst nightmare.  I could

crush you with the sheer

iron-clad

bladder-clenchin'

bed-wettin'

balls-poppin' grip of my

MIND.

You don't wanna move your rook there.

Trust.

You really wanna test the wrath of this

Mighty Morphin' Power Ranger?

I got skillz, buttbrain.

I will eat your soul

for breakfast, lunch

and dinner.

Don't think I won't.

Will TOO.

Look how many of your li'l 

pathetic, wasted peons I killded

with my bare hands.

Don't you FUCKING laugh at me.

I will so bust out my can of 

second-grade Ninja Turtle whoop-ass 

on your skinny li'l

weasel face.  And I'll tell Miz Rose

you fell outta your chair

and my King just happened to be sittin'

on the floor 

where your ass-crack landed.

Who's she gonna believe?

The li'l weasel boy who sucks at chess?

I don't THINK so.

Your move, hot shit.  Wait--no!

No way, no way in poopy HELL you just 

moved your doo-doo headed bishop

to my knight

you sonuvabitch!

That's IT!  You were warned,

stupid clowny weasel boy.

So now...

I'm gonna tell on your jerky ass 

so fast

you won't know what hit you."