June Challenge: Grads & Brides

[bogusagain]

weddings are sinister affairs
with their plastic smiles
and fairytale perfection
beneath which the black heart beats
of a utopian nightmare

what began on a Spanish beach
a sangria fueled romance
sun tanned breasts and
a well maintained bikini line
is now a wet day in Manchester

a motorcade snaking
full of disapproving relatives
like a convoy of gangsters
out to collect a few small debts
leaving him no escape

 

[greenmountaineer]

Eliot Prays in his Anglican Pew

"In the rush to vilify, I chose April.
Why would I bother to wait 'til June?
The seed was as bad as the blossom is"
I said at the wise age of thirty three.

"Bullshit! I later would learn how to say
in proper King's English to discomfited
Tommies who thought they found themselves John
in Tom without there being a Baptist.

A pound is a pound, Blokes; the rent was due,
and Prufrock, of course, was the cat's meow;
and I now know whatever I wrote
Shantih, Shantih, Shantih is June.

 

[Tzara]

what began on a Spanish beach
a sangria fueled romance
sun tanned breasts and
a well maintained bikini line
is now a wet day in Manchester <--This

is a fabulous strophe, bogus.

Reading too much into things, it makes me want to buy you a drink, if not quite help you hire a lawyer.

My own experience with women is very different, but I love reading about yours.

 

[Tzara]

"In the rush to vilify, I chose April.
Why would I bother to wait 'til June?
The seed was as bad as the blossom is"
I said at the wise age of thirty three.

"Bullshit! I later would learn how to say
in proper King's English to discomfited
Tommies who thought they found themselves John
in Tom without there being a Baptist.

A pound is a pound, Blokes; the rent was due,
and Prufrock, of course, was the cat's meow;
and I now know whatever I wrote
Shantih, Shantih, Shantih is June.

You changed it.

Not accusing you, just pointing out I hadn't finished my homework before commenting.

Now you sent me back to the library.

I know, true last line. Still.

(You are really good, gm and should not be posting your work here. You are way, way better than this. Just saying.)

 

[bogusagain]

is a fabulous strophe, bogus.

Reading too much into things, it makes me want to buy you a drink, if not quite help you hire a lawyer.

My own experience with women is very different, but I love reading about yours.

I always choose the wrong ones. A woman once told me it was my attitude. She was a wrong one also.:roll eyes:

I'll hold you to that drink Tzara. I usually need one after an encounter with a woman.

(my apologies to all you perfect ladies for implying all women are a problem.)

 

[Desejo]

It started in June

Spring madness usually means
Women at white sales
not men in white coats.

“We thought it was just a bad trip”
A two-week walkabout in Seattle
sleeping on a couch in the courtyard
and conversations with Lucifer is
no one's idea of a vacation.

When the Haldol kicked in
you told me it had been a fantastic experience
A revelation you needed to understand.

For a while, we could even joke about it.
How there must be something in the water at MIT.
A cartoon devil on one shoulder,
angel on the other.

That was 13 Junes ago this year.
Crazy has become a lot less funny since then.

 

[serpentwrap]

You changed it.

Not accusing you, just pointing out I hadn't finished my homework before commenting.

Now you sent me back to the library.

I know, true last line. Still.

(You are really good, gm and should not be posting your work here. You are way, way better than this. Just saying.)

He truly is brilliant, isn't he? I too loved this one. But he's way above.

 

[corndog_]

Beach Ball

And here’s another, in the sweltering
gas ballooning from a satin plain
of purple and gold, that quotes
from the dictionary: “Webster’s defines ‘commencement’
as ‘a beginning’…” and then lab-rats
her way through a metaphor: the cheese
being something about risk-takers
richly rewarded (where’s the risk
in that?) when a red & white arc is suddenly
drawn and redrawn across the plain, jubilant fists
punch holes in the dreary air and an impatient
chorus starts to rise. That’s when I find him, a regal penguin
in a fidgeting flock. His face shines
(joy? sweat?) like a lighthouse beacon, beams
crisscrossing the swells. His name, agonized over
a lifetime ago, rings from the PA
as he crests the winding ramp
and I’m on my feet, my own cheeks damp, my fist
raised in tribute. Here, I think, is to something brand new.

::

 

[Tzara]

Beach Ball...
...........................His name, agonized over
a lifetime ago, rings from the PA
as he crests the winding ramp
and I’m on my feet, my own cheeks damp, my fist
raised in tribute. Here, I think, is to something brand new.

::

This part, especially, seems sentimental in just the right way.

Nice poem, Mr. Junk Food.

 

[Tzara]

Spring madness usually means...

I sure hope this isn't written from life, D.

In any case, it is vivid and specific and personal. It communicates a kind of helplessness I hope I never have to face.

It's almost irrelevant to say I think it is a good poem.

I think it is a good poem, though.

 

[Tzara]

I'll hold you to that drink Tzara. I usually need one after an encounter with a woman.

You don't want to put me in counseling mode, dude. I was a psychology major, after all. Garblespeak is a native language for me.





And, like, I have an opinion about everything. Wrong, usually, but strident.

 

[corndog_]

This part, especially, seems sentimental in just the right way.

Nice poem, Mr. Junk Food.

Some might call it maudlin! But two hours on the hard bleachers of a gym balcony in 94 degree steam has that effect on me.

I'd have also confessed to any crime at that point.

 

[champagne1982]

Some might call it maudlin! But two hours on the hard bleachers of a gym balcony in 94 degree steam has that effect on me.

I'd have also confessed to any crime at that point.

For a guy who's been deep fried, I'd have though 94 degrees would be soothing...

 

[Tzara]

Some might call it maudlin!

Some might. But if one can't be maudlin (Def: 1: drunk enough to be emotionally silly; 2: weakly and effusively sentimental) about one's kid's graduation (I am assuming that's what your poem's about, but same would apply if nephew, etc.) then what can one be maudlin about?

It's not a crime. Be weepily proud of them. Probably cost you enough.

 

[Tzara]

For a guy who's been deep fried, I'd have though 94 degrees would be soothing...

Well, you're certainly sizzling, m'dear.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

A photograph in sepia tones, edges torn,
gypsophlia poses of forgotten years
ramrod grandeur in a bygone age.

Each face unlined, not ravaged yet by age
nor from their loved ones forever torn
by war, gazing out across the years.

and now that bride derides her years,
long gone her steadfast groom to age,
a whithered blossom faded petals torn.

A page of life torn through years by age.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

His name, agonized over
a lifetime ago, rings from the PA
as he crests the winding ramp
and I’m on my feet, my own cheeks damp, my fist
raised in tribute. Here, I think, is to something brand new.

::

Pass the punch! Cheers, dear.

 

[Desejo]

2012 Highschool Graduate

The graduate has a new position
exceeding class president
valedictorian
or varsity captain

He has ascended the lazy-boy
and rules the TV
Playstation
AND computer
with a skilled hand.

Let us bring him offerings
of chips, onion dip
and freshly sparkling
mountain dew.

Today he even killed a troll.
I am so proud.

He's gonna be just like his father. (LOL)

 

[Tzara]

The graduate has a new position...

Ha! Too true, I'm afraid. Reminds me why I don't feel too bad about not having kids.

 

[njoyjade]

As You Walk

Childless, I stumbled upon a stray
in need of protection and guidance
I found you or did you find me?

“Be kind to her” I requested to
those who were cruel.
I found you or did you find me?

Motherless, with a father present
he relied on others to help.
I found you or did you find me?

Memories, of the last five years;
how to dress, how to wash your hair.
I found you, or did you find me?

As you walk, Valedictorian in June,
With a rose meant for someone special;
I found you, or did you find me?

 

[Tzara]

Childless, I stumbled upon a stray...

A very touching poem, Jade. Particularly so, as I am childless myself.

Thanks for posting it.

 

[Tzara]

Hey. This challenge ends tomorrow. (Well, of course, you want to still write on it, the thread will still be open and we won't, like, pee on your poem if you are a day or two late. Month late. Year late. Whatever. It's a thread. Lasts how long Lit lasts, basically.)

Anyway. I am just saying that if you want to be part of the the June challenge, well, time's a wastin'. Post a poem.

And if one of you clever poets has a cool idea for a July challenge, get it ready, a'cuz we're almost there.

That's all. For now, anyway.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

Spring madness usually means
Women at white sales

I keep coming back to this. Quite compelling.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Didn't my post show up?

 

[Tzara]

Didn't my post show up?

This one?

It did, but I kind of missed it. Well, not "kind of" missed it. Totally missed it.

Sorry.

It's a tritina, isn't it? Really very nicely executed. I almost didn't recognize the form, which always means to me the poet executed it well.

It's an odd form. Why did you choose to write that?