Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Daily Crossword Puzzle Poem Draft from Dec 28 on Dec 30 (New Year's Eve Eve)

If all the world's a cage let's all be pests
and he who's bitten is he who stops and sits.
Or maybe it's a farm and each of us an acre
or a fabric store - we're canvas cloth or satin
or a high school test and I am false and true.
Genesis supposes we were sculpted out of clay
though we may be notes or numbers on a scale
and what I've written no more mine than rote.
We are colors (don't be blind) and my tone
a sunny bronze, yolk yellow three minute eggs
a beggar's bowl, tap dancer's shoe, Zap
comics frame, Waldo but its you that's hid
or me. Or a jail cell in which we all atone
or senses - you be friction and I'll see.
If we're foodstuffs then Im instant cocoa mix
physics equations - I'm opposite your speed.
Goddesses straddle continents. Your Thor
grabs my hammer, boar chases colt
earth ablaze and bruised from our ideals
we'll sign any declaration you have wit
to set beneath our pens, so many
flapjacks so few short order cooks.
Your aura more satsuma than ugli fruit or lime
we detest time though not the tide, mere
meercats more our speed than lynx, akin
our feelings now to all that's gone before.

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Daily Crossword Puzzle Draft for Christmas Eve Eve

As we get set to eat what's fare
we know what's fair, what isn't.
Taught as children not to stare
we don't know how to look. Oh Adam.
The homeless sweep the street
we hoard baubles, tell them shoo.
We don't know what to do, delete
our care, righteous as red states.
Hectored with hatreds we don't aim
but scatter-shoot axioms and err.


No nom de plume I give my name
though you pronounce it badly.
how many guineas for this ride?
Coal in socks but merry as Cole
wishes ask beggars to hop in
as once as often as if.


Old King Lear wasn't merry, leered
into the storm, sky gone crimson riot
Odysseus lashed to hear the siren
no Lord Byron, no date palm
but everyone so tan.


Depp vamping a Mad Hatter
Downey's Sherlock Holmes
Oh happy happy season.

you laugh but you could die amongst the suds
a fall a mop a mid night bozo
its often here on earth that we feel Orkan
who break and break even at our apex
no mystery we want to flee from here
try not to hear and be select
but death comes to us even as we yes
affirm our life force, slash the years
with exercise, no duck a l'orange.
With pluck we rise like Rosa
we're dropped to seats, no elite
for sythe. As god is my witness O'Hara
stamped her foot, but mazel tov
my dear for all we have we spend
and at the end there is no cache.


Monday, December 14, 2009

December 14, 2009 Daily Crossword Puzzle Draft

As Disney taught, to right things you'll need a wand
to stave off women grown gargantuan and mean. Waive
your right to choose an ending without goo that's icky
Life is trickier than what we knew at nine, when aloe
was a tropical impossible to grow. Reciting Ogden
Nash was all the glamor I clamored for. Ah step
in it the shoe store's fluoroscope's no more no no
than m&m's. She's shrunken now my mom, stews
hot but vague. Remade histories fade to pretty
now I'm farther from seventh grade than seventy.

Friday, December 11, 2009

Daily Crossword Puzzle Poem Draft for Tuesday, December 8 on Friday December 11
because I cannot complete Friday's puzzle. Okay? I just can't.

Seattle's famous blue sky is poised to sag
Columbia Tower shrouded in ceo motto
and cloud. Bon star on Macy's, new crop
of crap in windows ho ho about as pure
as valentine's guy all nudeness and arrow
sagas, epics, legends, myths all redo
colorized as high colonic (I overdo a tad.)
Ahem and god rest ye and pull me a slice
of mandarin, regard me from behind epee
whoopee our eyes all sugar plums we boast
and toast and roast turkey from the deli
krumkake, berlinerkranzer, deserts
taste who we are as we await the storm
reweave the passing year in print
hint only. Rules are rules and shhh
to all who break them. Holly teasets
like Venus on the tissue, holy drapes
under creche, French horn for carol
peace prize are we 1984 at war?
Feast time baby bathed in tiny lights
is it alright? we search our faces
this Claus who may be saint or ogre
we knew in October we couldn't pare
ourselves away. God rest ye merry
dears, let nothing ye dismay.

Monday, December 07, 2009

Daily Crossword Puzzle Poem Draft, 12/7/09

Is your time here more than zigs and zags?
Tell me the chance of yes is more than slim
biding awee in our plush appointed Alamo
you nod your head, you say I see
hey,who's Goliath and who's David?
who's on first, who's on the Nina?
My friend hates "tissue" I hate "cram"
we both dig Sam I Am, so score.
Snore until she leaves, cat burglar
we're all a flock of stinking ewes
have paid our dues unsheathed epees
whose dullness means we don't need EMT's
all that glitters is not the palest
put on more clothes and get less coverage
my overage I'll divy out in lira
or krona if you think they're nicer.
oh my ram my drunken Aries
we have been smitten, bitten, lost
wear shorter skirts as evenings lengthen
as if to strengthen what? Were you raised
like mammals or like roe?
to know the tactics of talc
or metallic-tasting cage?
I panic beneath rabbit ears
test pattern Indian headdress array
to start the day and then we iron
burn away whorls, default on the lease
all that glitters? Remember, its mine
is there time to buy more gear?
All that glitters? My dear it fades
as I'm the seer swirling in this eddy.

Saturday, December 05, 2009

Rejected by Nimrod - what a passel of nimrods!
one rejection means send out two more submissions
my poetry mathematics.

One of my favorite students at the far south school has been ejected for lack of performance.
How much of this is racism? How much of this is his fault? How many kids wander away down the road into oblivion, their absense unrepented? Unatoned for? This is a bright kid,
hear the echoes, a bright kid, a promising kid, a mind a heart a spirit meant to fight for.
We should all be fighting to keep these kids' heads above water.
We should be asking questions like why do tribal kids duck heads and drift out of high school before graduating? It is not enough to send them off to the "alternative high school" which I know as a circle of overweight native kids smoking cigarettes by the streetlight in the gravelly area between the community center and maq laq's center. They look depressed and sidelined. They don't look well served or happy or functional or loved. Most of all they look dejected and unloved and like they know they are beside the point. How do you keep on when you are seventeen years old and others have concluded you are beside the point? Wouldn't you feel like the used snow shovelled to the side of the roadway? Wouldn't you feel like playing video games all night is about all you're good for? If you write a story where a teacher kicks you out of class for speaking in your native language that nobody on the planet is fluent in anymore and your teacher calls it racist where do you go? If you are a kid of color and you write about race, are you a racist if your white teacher thinks so? Are you just being provocative? Are you trying to understand something? Are you trying to find a place in the world for you with your heritage and your love of the land and hunger for connection with thirteen thousand years of family in one place and a twenty first century fractured life? Now that your grandfather is dead, is it your job to embrace and extend his connection to your ancestors or what is your job? Who has use for you? Who are you connected to now?

Friday, December 04, 2009

we live by what we're dealt
like smelt we shimmer, flim flam
sharp as clove-poked hams
imagine mental prowess slaves to urge
and smells, fringed as Dale Evans
achante we say as if we'd gone to Eton
we're not beaten beneath eagle nest
or snake to send us packing
we've endured our minds if not the lash
we never spit at wine tastings, totter
on Monolos, green and greasy as Rudyard
warned us elephant children. Alas,
and we stare upward on slim
chance planes have answered in the sky.


so anyways, does anybody have a clue why or how a site gets tons of traffic? How is it mine has increased exponentially when I've done the same or less than usual?

Thursday, December 03, 2009

Daily Crossword Puzzle Poem 12/3/09

You on your bajaj chetak me on my vespa
we'll make it to vespers or leave the road aloft
alone and all that pap, a couple of alien
visitors here where masks mask the ill
and nobody sees things sunny side up.
Where are the rickshaw taxis of elsewhere?
We watch each other like we're at the zoo,
drink our triple shots, despair of Eden
in our time or when the civilized gazed
at pepper, cinnamon, cashews and sesame
stole them with their estimable hautier
like Elgin slipped the marble in his ship
the rest of us too mild mannered
to stop the thief. We thought him chief
and others too, who landed here and Eire.
Let's zip away I'd rather that than rile
myself with righteousness, Raymond Burr
bravado slaked with quinine, gin and lime.
A fine time to bring in Mr. Aesop
with the ants, brer anybody, a spool
of thread, a tailor, a lady or big cat.
Ah literature! All life on flat and due to
reasoning not mammal grunts and baas.
Stay close, the curves can kill you cara,
but so can standing still.

Wednesday, December 02, 2009

Daily Crossword Puzzle Poem Draft

All is not lost, I floss.
for every sailor, there's ahoy
for every drunk a tap,
attendant rushing down your aisle
and all the world to pave.
Behave. Enthuse at sunrise hues
offer your brain to let.
The future before you lies
your senses an idea
in a snow flurry,
a box of cheddar nips,
an iron-on patch, so easy
for Leonardo. Oh gosh
your gums sadden
thin men of Haddam, their furs
blurry, a plane lift from luau,
another save-the-date.
She who cracks eggs stirs,
the baby in a jumparoo or arms
that made the men the sires.
All play for pay in far Ohio
your diamonds gone to paste
that legendary wealth a myth
and how we miss the dodo
cheering for the Rams.
Dynamite the dams, reopen
flow for all that can endure
the salmon and the soul
palms and people on a roof.
When breathing's too much bother
lie down in winter rain as if
to float, open coat a bat,
head a golf ball core or piece
of lint, a dust moat on a sill.
And still salvation's in the lore
or so we wish as we enroll
in MFA's, read Cather in the rye
staccato hot to sear
lava through all that's stony.