Thursday, June 2, 2011

Wormwood (Another Ode to Bukowski, the 2nd such...)

Dead by the streetlight
my shadow
the mountains
off the desert floor
in the distance

The distance:

A hooker is dodging cars
while living in the midnights

Really, it can't be that easy.

Dead by the TV tray:
half a pop tart
empty bottles
a remote control
and no batteries

No Batteries:

The future is in the now,
and turns out it's nothing
without us.

Taste the gasoline mai tai;

Dead by the bedside:
been there before
the chloroform still
gives me a twitch

Dead by the hand that
beckons me
feeds me
scratches my itch
and rubs my belly
my lust
and my lies.




And someone said:
the sun
also rises...


eric1313 said...

Everything's going OK.

Just seeing if this thing still works.

Hope to see a few of you soon.

Charles Gramlich said...

Dead by the TV tray. A modern parable.

eric1313 said...

Probably something could be done with that line for sure.

Maybe it'll resurface as something else in the future. said...

Powerful, mature poetry these days!

I read somewhere that Bukowski, in the advanced stages of Diabetes,eventually lost both arms and legs.
And yet, dammit, he wanted to live!

Lana Gramlich said...

"...while living in the midnights

I love that line.

eric1313 said...


Thanks for the compliment!

I could picture Bukowski in a wheel chair asking the newstand guy why he don't have his race form ready every morning...

eric1313 said...


That line was "living in the shadows between" but I thought the use of the word shadows so soon was redundant. :) I liked "midnights between" better too.

X. Dell said...

Eric, good to see you back on the air, even if for a little bit. And yeah, I guess this still works.

This imagery brings to mind so many things, but I'll just pick one: "The future is in the now, and turns out it's nothing without us."

I was reading this white-wine-and-brie intellectualist article (think NPR listener) that talked about how sense perception takes time for an impulse to travel along the nervous system, and then stimulate neurons to fire off particles that form networks with other neurons to create awareness and perception.

Problem is, everything we see or hear is always in our past (a tiny fraction of a nanosecond into our past, but our past nonetheless). So it would see that the now is actually in the past, so the future, by default, would have to be in the now.

Princess Pointful said...

Ouch, so many stark images here. I can't help but imagine a beautiful sunset rising over a cheap motel.

Thanks for the hockey love-- and, no, you didn't jinx us. As much as it pains to admit it, they just played better. Which is a shame, really, because we had the capacity to win had we played well. I hate the fact that hockey actually stings.

I do love the fact that there is another hockey fan I know in America, too. Damn do I feel like the minority in this city. We went to watch Game 5 at a sports bar in town, and we had to fight to even get it on, and then they put on karaoke in the third period.

Hope all is well with you and that your remote is full of batteries :)

eric1313 said...

Hey X!

I love NPR and listen pretty much every day, so I follow you.

So a live audience is never that, they are all watching things filtered through the telegraph of our neural net. I knew of that but never thought about it's implications. Time as a concept is relative, go figure!


Batteries, check!

You would never have to fight to get hockey on TV in Detroit, or anywhere else in Michigan... or Minnesota, Or Philly, or m NY for that matter. Seems that the Wisconsinites have no idea what they are missing.

As for this poem, it's all the stark here-and-now-ness of the city, or at least as X pointed out, my perception of life within it.

Better luck to the Canucks next year! Of course, they will still have to get through the Wings first though...

eric1313 said...

Glad to see everyone again, at least your e or i versions!

Ultra Toast Mosha God said...

The United State of America

eric1313 said...

Oh say can you see...

morbidneko said...

gasoline mai tai? one plz! ^_^

eric1313 said...

No ethanol here, just whole lot of burn...

Chris Benjamin said...

one of my fav's of yours. I like your work best when it evokes story.

eric1313 said...

Thanks Chris!

I've been working on a different sort of project as of late, a story, in the fantasy vein. I'll try to find a way to share it with everyone, a way that does not compromise the plans I have for it! :)

Yes, something about publication. Gotta work for it though. I took up poetry for this site as a sort of way to be an irresponsible writer, one who could shirk the responsibility of larger projects in favor of capturing moments. I grew to love poetry and the process more than I could have known prior to my ramblings here.

I'll probably haunt this page for a long time to come, I may even return to full production again one day. Certainly, I love doing it, but there really is something to being inspired. I dislike forcing poetry. Actual story writing requires more discipline and I respect that and understand why. But this page is different.

Who knows... anyway, I'll see you all soon again, as I do like visiting my friends who I have met here and seeing what kind of inspiration you bring to me.

Chris Benjamin said...

you say "capturing moments" as if it's easy, as if poets don't struggle their whole lives to do it well just a few times ;-)

good luck with the bigger projects, but hoping the poetess muse still strikes often.

ivan said...

...Reminds me of a time when I went through a similar period.

No, you can't force it.

When I finally arrived at the right epiphany a thorny fellow-writer had said, "It took ya long enough."


Cloudia said...

thank you for your thoughtful and welcome remarks at my blog. you are always most welcome!

Aloha from Waikiki;

Comfort Spiral
> < } } ( ° >


< ° ) } } > <

Chris Benjamin said...

just re-read this and this time loved the juxtapositions between verses.