Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Conversation Piece

I was trying to commune
with Raymond Carver
hoping he’d share
on a dead Wednesday night
the secrets of life
as he knows them

So I passed the joint
like a microphone
and in exacting detail
match the stare of
deep shadowed eyes
holding a scotch glass
with bite marks
on the rim
I wrote everything--
on the blank face of a page
before the black wind ripped it
from under my bony hands
He tells me:
"This doesn’t work.
You have all the facts.
I wanted a story--
something that took guts to write
and a dying heart to make work.
Don't tell me everything there
is to know about Portland.
I don't want to know
what the hell’s in Portland.
Just tell me you’re going there
if things don’t work out."
The page flamed
on my bonfire desk
white flames black eyes
a heart the brother
of grave dirt and dusk
smiled at the digger
picked up his bitten glass
drinking from the rough side
and told me that he's the one
who has all night--
He says
I have only the time left
on one still beating heart
wasting my breath
asking Raymond Carver
the secret of life
when that answer
isn’t even known
by the living



Heart Of Darkness said...

I burst out, laughing, when I saw that picture at the top of your post today - that's me!!!!

I'm in the worst writers block of my life right now - I can't produce one single sentence that makes sense... maybe I should switch to extensial poetry, and just make no sense what so ever? LOL

Ultra Toast Mosha God said...

So I passed the joint
like a microphone

Great line

Blancodeviosa said...

Yay :)

eric313 said...

Heart of Darkness
Writer's block is the worst. I'm struggling to makes sense of everything, too. And that's Ray Carver for you, he was quite the writer camping on his cluttered desk, smoke hanging from the corner of his mouth, crank calling people who move to Portland.

Ultra Toast Mosha God
MC carver jammin on the microphone. Inspiration and insanity roled all into one poem. Anyone else care to take the mic?

That's how I been feeling all week, too, thanks to y'all.

Thanks and I'll try to Hustle somentig out soon.

Behind Blue Eyes said...

I feel stupid> I'm not sure who Ray Carver is. I really like your poetry. Truthfully, there are lots of poetry websites out there and I never really like them. I love poetry that I like, but I don't like most of it. Oh, and you have inspired me to finally make a list of my favorite books and list them. I've been meaning to do it for a long time. You have quite a list. I've read about half of them. I've never had the guts to read Sophies choice.

Behind Blue Eyes said...

Oh, you use very apt metaphors and choose your adjectives very astutely, but you don't overcrowd your poems with them. They are not so know what I mean? Some people who are good with words use so many metaphors and descriptive phrases that it's just too much. It's like they are showing off or something.

Cheri said...

It would have been funny if Raymond had been naked, glass of iced gin in his hand, cigarette perched on his lips while offering you advice.

Hah I'm a pervert.

maleah said...

I wish I could whistle on this damn thing. I would.


eric313 said...

Behind Blue Eyes
You are very kind! I must compliment you on your taste in literature. And in regards to poetry, well, I had a wonderful teacher. And the desire to not write crap. I wrote the worst poems for so long! And Carver is an excellent poet and short story writer. Really, he's known for his short stories, and there is even an award in his name for short fiction. Get his book "Where I'm Calling From" if you would like to know more about him. He's a true master of the art.

You perv! ha!
what would he do next? Lick the cracked glass and try to plant bloody kisses everywhere?
This is my peaceful communing with dead poets that you're messin with here, lady.
But that's cool. Glad you dropped by.

The words--and the right ones, as said in the poem--are important, but you've got it exactly: the rhythym has to be there for poetry to sing! And you heard the music call to you. I did good, I think. Thank you!

Cheri said...

Yeah I'm a real smartass sometimes.

But I really did like it!
I blow at poetry.
Your writing is exquisite.

eric313 said...

Oh, stop it, Cherri! You are welcome to say whatever you want. Thank you for your kind words here and elsewhere. I have been smiling and laughing for an hour now. Guess why?