Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Terrorism

no one is a terrorist
no one
no one
no one
dress up the way we dress up
no one no one no one.
we are just human beings
we are just
everyone is only human
human
human
that is all
that is all
that is all. 

Weekly "crappy" Poem: Going to Church pt. 1

"identity."
"identity"
"definition"
"what is the definition"
"how do you define"
"what should we be defined"
"who should define"
"are we defined by"
"do we define
ourselves?"
Please tell me what to do,
please set up parameters
please please please
be polite and don't say a word
children listen, listen,
listen,
listen.
Who you are and
who you should be
are not the same.
no no no no no no no no
Tell me what you think,
show me what you think.
Please re-emphasize
that thought,
that lack of thought,
don't ask don't ask don't ask don't ask
and I won't tell
because I don't know
I don't know
I don't know,
but let me say,
I do know. I definitely
know
definite.
There are definite
definite
answers, I know.
I know
if I don't know,
we might know
we'll know sometime,
sometime, sometime
eternally we'll know
if we never know,
it's okay, be
filled
with awe and wonder.
be filled
with fear
and awe.
But not too much
because we know
we have answers
we have definitions
any protests
are untrue.

Monday, February 25, 2013

Good Ideas and Not Bad Ideas: Track 5: "Violence is Always the Answer"~Bananafish (to be continued)

Biting and pulling
and tearing and 
scratching, 
mauling. 
We are wild animals, 
lover. 
Dot my chest with bruises,
shaped like claw marks, 
oh my darling. 
Try to scalp me as you move
those teeth down my stomach,
down and down and down.
We are 
one in this aggression, 
this is not passive, 
only passion
(Haha!)
Lover, please go on, 
against that wall, please,
if you would. 
But forget the flowers.
Just bite me. 
Really hard,
leave your marks all across
my chest, 
along my bones, 
my breasts, 
Please, 
I want to hear myself
I want to hear you 
as our bodies 
do what they do.

Sunday, February 17, 2013

sh-tty (and short!) poem (barely a poem): You Will Feel Bad About Sex

((note: I wrote this last Sunday on the bus ride home from an annual trip to northern Minnesota with my youth group. The last trip I will take there as a high schooler.))

You Will Feel Bad About Sex

Individuals of
your make and model
have been modified
to respond in certain
ways.

sh-tty poem first: Repetitive Stress Injury (will use this title for a better version of this poem someday)

Very few times 
have I been so close
to anyone's body but my own
Very rarely 
have I ever felt sweat 
and spit 
and the implication of 
all other fluids 
very only, 
in fact,
with a single
other being. 

Very many times, 
have I caused pain
by my eyes 
and my mind
and my body
Very often, 
I have trailed 
other beings
seeking those connections
when a single other being
awaits for dreaded report. 

Very quickly
do I crumble
very gradually 
do I run 
very blindly 
do I tell you 
what I tell you 
when I tell you 
what I do.