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Word Nerd: December 2011

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Wednesday, December 14, 2011. I look into and up and out millions of windows. In Brooklyn. I imagine the myriad. Of stories that fill. The space between front and back doors. Lights- through the well to do. Carroll Gardens’ bay windows. And the section-8 bars in Bed-Stuy-. Seep into the world the same way,. If there are cracks in the sidewalks. Reflections morph single gestures of love,. Panes muffle all the words that spur hour-long fights. I take a late night taxi over the bridge. I ask the cabbie,.

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Word Nerd: November 2010

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Monday, November 15, 2010. Nicholas Whitaker’s 5 Words. He’s outside the bodega:. 8220;You’re a slave to money,. Then you die.”. We’ve on lived on the line between. He’s outside the subway:. 8220;You’re a slave to the symphony of. Trying to make ends meet.”. The melody the mind builds,. The songs of propaganda. 8212;whispers to screams—. He’s outside the restaurant:. 8220;You’re a slave to your cravings,. Always with a full plate.”. Hors d’oeuvres galore—. Turning into endless collateral. Cape Cod, Mass.

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Word Nerd: Numbers Poem

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Friday, December 17, 2010. Today I looked at the clock. She fell on average. I taught her how to blow her nose. I’ve not seen the sun move, only shadows. My reflection’s stayed the same. Unaffected by the winter. 6 days after I'm 23. Enjoying your blog. thank you. February 16, 2011 at 10:40 AM. February 16, 2011 at 10:51 AM. Your blog is very interesting! Get a girlfriend, shell love,This is my blog, exchange links with us to make friends. Http:/ www.shopchanel.co.uk/blog. March 21, 2011 at 3:43 AM.

marissaforbes.blogspot.com

Word Nerd: Multisensorial Time

http://marissaforbes.blogspot.com/2011/04/multisensorial-time.html

Monday, April 11, 2011. My reflection stayed the same. I do not feel the sun move,. My reflection stayed the same. I do not feel the sun move,. Time scrambles, falls, and scatters. Across my pillow, down to my toes. The baby pigeons fall from the ledge. 16 1/2 times every 60 seconds. Affected by winter smells. Of rot, sounds like pigeons. July 5, 2011 at 7:09 PM. This is seems to hint at a dark side, and is making me wonder! July 21, 2011 at 3:12 PM. July 31, 2011 at 4:13 AM. I invite you on my new blog.

pinchepoetpomes.blogspot.com

Power To The Poet: And It Was summer

http://pinchepoetpomes.blogspot.com/2011/02/one-night-as-i-smoked-cigar-in-my.html

Power To The Poet. You know the words, but you don't know the tune. - Mark Twain. When Flowers Were I n Bloom. When Flowers Were I n Bloom. And It Was summer. As I smoked a cigar in my backyard,. The old Indian lady from across the street. Walked over with her pit bull. And complained about the smell. 8220;You smoke mucho marijuana,”. She said pointing at my Backwoods. 8220;It’s a cigar,” I explained. 8220;No,” she said, “You stop.”. 8220;Listen, your dog barks all night long. Took a crapzilla on my lawn.

marissaforbes.blogspot.com

Word Nerd: BIG News!

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Thursday, October 21, 2010. I have officially been published in a magazine.not an online literary journal but a real hard copy magazine. It's called Instigatorzine and it's an art and literature publication that's super funky and awesome. I have four poems on a whole spread so go to instigatorzine.com. And buy a pdf copy ($2) or a REAL HARD-COPY (with shipping it's $4.30). It's so worth it because it's my words in there! Thanks so much for keeping up with my blog! Congrats. Its looks pretty cool. Banyo i...

pinchepoetpomes.blogspot.com

Power To The Poet: although

http://pinchepoetpomes.blogspot.com/2011/03/my-daughter-screams-all-you-do-is-get.html

Power To The Poet. You know the words, but you don't know the tune. - Mark Twain. When Flowers Were I n Bloom. When Flowers Were I n Bloom. All you do is drink and write poetry. I've never been drunk a day in my life. I've written plenty of bad poetry. 3 this. Its almost a tribute to the wit of Winston Churchill. When told that he was a drunk by a woman he replied, Maam, I may be drunk tonight but tomorrow you will still be ugly. Esteban R. Arellano. Thanks for coming over. My middle sisters name is.

pinchepoetpomes.blogspot.com

Power To The Poet: Happy Union: A Path To Enlightenment

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Power To The Poet. You know the words, but you don't know the tune. - Mark Twain. When Flowers Were I n Bloom. When Flowers Were I n Bloom. Happy Union: A Path To Enlightenment. Happy Union, Texas, August ‘88,. At the waterhole north end of grandfather’s farm. Where Kirby keeps his cattle. It’s evening and a hundred and ten degrees. Barbas de Oro is whooshing in from south of El Rio Grande. The chaparral throbs and the cornfields rattle like pissed-off snakes. Pass through me -. If He knows me completely,.

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Power To The Poet: And after so many years,

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Power To The Poet. You know the words, but you don't know the tune. - Mark Twain. When Flowers Were I n Bloom. When Flowers Were I n Bloom. And after so many years,. And after so many years,. The world slides off my shoulders. Valleys and mountains,. Wednesdays and Sundays;. All, all is lost. Earth is flat, and the ocean,. Spills over the edge. And after so many years,. You say, "My love is yours.". What colossal weight -. The autumn roads we traveled. To a graveyard in my chest. Esteban R. Arellano.

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Power To The Poet: Leave Me

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Power To The Poet. You know the words, but you don't know the tune. - Mark Twain. When Flowers Were I n Bloom. When Flowers Were I n Bloom. My whiskey and cigars. Let me blow rings. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). The duty of a poet -. To speak what we feel,. Not what we ought to say.". As God said, crossing his legs,. I see where I have made plenty of poets but not so very much poetry.". Graphics by Kellie Elmore. Love quotations contest at Magic in the backyard. Writing is a form of prayer. Just po...