Sketchbook

[butters]

this is an entirely fascinating thread to read through
a patchwork quilt in its own right

truly some remarkable thoughts that make me think!

 

[Palba_Noruda]

Aw, you're sweet, Chip! Thanks

 

[Palba_Noruda]

A guy I know wants to put something of mine on his web site. He's a nice guy and I like his website, it's cute. He has a few of them. I don't know what to do. I guess I don't really care to have my poem or my name for that matter out there.

 

[butters]

A guy I know wants to put something of mine on his web site. He's a nice guy and I like his website, it's cute. He has a few of them. I don't know what to do. I guess I don't really care to have my poem or my name for that matter out there.

well it's always up to you. i'd suggest you have a good think about it and if that sense persists, then go with your instincts. of course, you could always have him put it out there anonymously if you prefer; if your reticence stems from the idea you'd get hacked off over any dumb replies, people who don't 'get it' or slate it out of hand then you're probably not ready yet. but think about it - posting your work here still makes it pretty public viewing.

 

[Palba_Noruda]

well it's always up to you. i'd suggest you have a good think about it and if that sense persists, then go with your instincts. of course, you could always have him put it out there anonymously if you prefer; if your reticence stems from the idea you'd get hacked off over any dumb replies, people who don't 'get it' or slate it out of hand then you're probably not ready yet. but think about it - posting your work here still makes it pretty public viewing.

I just have a good feeling about this place... I don't really have much feeling at all for that other place... Though I am fond of the guy who put the web site together. He's awfully talented and wonderfully bent

 

[butters]

...He's awfully talented and wonderfully bent

what a line!

it needs using, P, it does

 

[Palba_Noruda]

Yin Yang Study

_______________________________________________________
_______________________________________________________
_______________________________________________________

______________aazz
____________aaazzzzz
__________aaaazzzzazzz
_________aaaaaazzzzzzzz
________aaaaaaaazzzzzzzz
_________aaaaaaaazzzzzz
__________aaazaaaazzz
____________aaaaazzz
______________aazz

 

[butters]

i have no idea if that constitutes 'poetry' but i get it! and it seems a damned poetic graph of a way to illustrate the ying/yang nuances. way cool!

 

[Palba_Noruda]

i have no idea if that constitutes 'poetry' but i get it! and it seems a damned poetic graph of a way to illustrate the ying/yang nuances. way cool!

Thanks Chip. I tried to use smilies and frownies but the forum only allows a few smilies per post.

 

[Palba_Noruda]

-Well today is 7 years. I picked C up from the airport and now have a few then prob. back to bed. Ugh what a shitty day... every fuckin' year... when

Hey, u been here 7 years? well i hope some positive things happened too... learning growing? may not seem like it now but mayb down the road

-I am glad i have D's house to be alone... probably better that way... how's work?

-7 years since i lost my mom

oh honey i'm sorry... i didn't realize that is today... well b careful n hang out with C n call me later if u want to talk. U workin' today?

-I have lived up here for 5-1/2.... 2 long

-I am off and C works. I do better on my own.

k well im here... call me if u want to talk... i could go 4 some company tonite... Why don't we make a little dinner there when im done with the L?

***

u there?

-What's up?

i am hungry... was thinking of food... R u hungry? Feel like hanging out 4 a bit?

-No. Sorry.

i'm sorry 2 bother u cuz i know ur sad, but i'm not feeling very good. can i just say hi for a few minutes? please?

-I am getting some bud... i will call u when I am done

hmm k

***

can i come over for a bit now? i got some work done. whoo

-Going to bed ... really another night... sorry

***
the next day...


-I hope u r not mad... i miss u



-ok well i guess u r mad. i didn't want to be a drunk basketcase in front of u. not like i haven't before but this was different... all i can say is sorry


-if I hurt ur feelings ... that was not my intention


i just wanted to hang out 4 a few minutes... figured u could have used some company, too

-i didn't... that is the thing... i don't like having to explain the way i feel... C knows more than others but my guilt level has been so high since she passed... i can never say sorry or the things i needed to say... i told u i would want to handle it on my own... every year... i always do...

i was planning on talking about my stupid ... the whole time. i usually can tell what a person does n doesn't want to talk about...

-i felt like you needed the company and really i needed to be selfish cause all i can handle sometimes is my feelings... u have never been through some of the shit i have so it is hard for u to relate...



-I didn't want to talk about anything. I was dealing with my feelings. Clearly u just DON'T GET IT.

i guess i was a little jealous that u n C could spend time together but i couldn't

-C is my best friend that i tell everything to...she is like a sister to me... she knows me inside and out...

i'm glad u have a BFF, and i'm glad i'm not the only paranoid person around. Hey u were having a hard time , just please know i don't appreciate being fibbed to... i am not always very bright but still

-and how in the hell would u know that C stayed w me when she got done from work unless u drove by????



-Really wtf did i fib about... nothing... u r not right in this one at all. so what the fuck ever... i have to finish getting ready for work

yeah i have to go too... it's getting to b about my bed time. have a good day at work

-and just an fyi... doing a drive by is what my ex would do... CRAZY... if i needed C that is what i needed and I don't need to explain that to a fucking person.

i know... i really didn't want to face my apartment what can i say. what else did i have to do

-ok u r selfish... really so wtf ever


-u know what... it is not about you all the time


-Well i have never done a drive by on a friend before..so no i guess i don't understand that... u have no grounds to be mad at me...on the other hand i have every reason to be upset w u

ur right. i would have done the same thing. U have a good friendship n i respect that. but i was a little jealous ... n even somebody dense as me gets curious. yes i am nosy... not like i'm the only one. it's pretty natural.

i know i don't understand about ur mom but i have had BFFs before

i apologize for being nosy 4 what it's worth

-We have a friendship. We r not in a relationship so i don't get the jealous thing... right now u have pissed me off so much for being so selfish that ur apology is not worth a whole hell of a lot...

well i could have added up all the txts from yesterday n figured out n given u space... but i'm not always very bright esp bc i was stressed I think it's pretty common 4 people 2 b jealous of other people's friendships. it happens a lot

-If u say so. I have never been jealous of a friend... men a relationship w me...sure...friend no... i gotta go.

k bye

***

-You know what...i am already upset. thank you so much for adding to that! U can be mad at work...i deal w people and it makes it that much harder... so thanks

hope it gets better 4 u. sorry again 4 being nosy. didn't mean 2 upset u, tho i can c y u would b. i gotta go to my wed meeting

-i can not believe this... really i am at a lost for words. wtf happened?

i guess we had a disagreement


-U think?

how do u feel about it?

-R u kidding??? R u a therapist??

just trying to hear u out

-Oh believe me...we will talk about this. Not when I am at work though

okay

-I am having a hard time concentrating

can u take a minute to take some deep breaths?

-And u r messin w my head... really ... wtf

u will b fine. mayb strike up a conversation w somebody there to get ur mind on something else?

-my mind is on what happened today...u have fucked my concentration up and i know what to do... i am a n u know... FUCK... this lil conflict could have waited till i was off work

u txted me n asked if i was mad. i told you how i felt . i didn't mean to f up ur concentration. u r going to b fine. take deep breaths

-well next time u want to go half crazy on me... wait till i am off work

talk to people. have a cig. u will b okay

-Fine. if u want to argue w me about how i am such a bad friend, then take a nap and come over when i am off work... if that is what u want... understand i am just as hard headed as u if not more

i think ur a good friend. im not mad at u okay? i was feeling jealous and upset. i'm glad u gave me the chance to talk to u about it when u asked if i was mad. i got my beef off my chest. thank you for listening. i'm sorry it upset u. i can come over when ur done that's fine
-...
k well just le me know . i can only stay till 12 or 12:30 tho k?
-...
okay... i'l b here... call me or come over or i can meet u over there...
-u r trying to get me to cave and fyi... momma don't play that.. so forget it all together

-i am just saying by me going to u is like me saying i am wrong... and i don't feel i am ... so y would i go to u when i have done nothing wrong?
not sure what ur talking about... just let me know when ur ready to talk

-...
goodnite then we can talk some other time

-U r the one that went all nuts over something dumb... I am not fixin this one.. this is ur bad not mine ... u don't want to talk fine... that's on u not me so wtf ever

 

[Palba_Noruda]

just a journal entry i guess

so many personalities
so little time

why don't people put
dates on their little web
articles?

people think i'm an idiot when
i say i don't have power point
on my computer... but I don't
have it, really i don't

where should i move?
what should i do?

what happened to my roof?
it's a blue tarp now

outdoor hymn sing an old
woman wipes under her eyes

granite pillars black lung
podium and american flags

 

[Palba_Noruda]

challenge scratchpad

and still i stare

her hands, her dress, her hair
all fail
to tear my gaze aside

from eyes
whose sadness is a shockwave
breaking over me

they say she's crazy




bleeders

with experience comes
a thinning of the blood
a coolness of the brain that
lifts the mists

and in the grass
the liars sharp as glass
are easier to see

handy that
for bleeders
such as me




estranged

how to communicate with the moon
when it sails so high
so lofty
a blind eye
indifferent to semaphore
and ill-equipped to receive thoughts
launched
in a rocketship




dawn raid


black shapes
with their black sounds
drop black tears on a
sleeping city

day erupts
bright with pain





love comes quietly


there is no grand parade, no clarion call
for magic happens in quiet quarters
small gestures, in the catching of an eye
back alleyways, the vistas of a sigh
in dusk's cool plums - that backdrop to starlight
and mists across the moon on autumn nights.

laughter, warm and fresh, can swell a heart
enmesh it, happily, and two hands held
in firelight's soft red and embered glow
will hold the memory of that touch although
the snow lays all around, and freezing hail
vies with the bitter wind to no avail.

Time teaches us best listen to the breeze
for truths are small and love comes
quietly.




backsliding

on those green days
when dreams forget they've long been put aside
so easy to get lost
again




dog days

the grey dog rests
her bones in the shade
eyes half open
ears muffled by age

she's quiet except for
the wheeze of slow breathing
but make no mistake
she's watchful and smart

though stamina's failing
and teeth are half broken
she's wily and wary
still able to bite



tangled

life's a complicated maze
and my string is
full of knots



u.v glare

not an easy man to love
yet vital as the sun
he lit my days

now i know:
to fly too close risks sunburn
and the cancer of him

when his uncertain light eclipsed
i found i owned an inner heat

and when i looked into the night
the sky was full of stars - all shining




watching for boats

i stand on this island
looking out to sea
watching for boats

and if my gaze
could draw you back to me
there'd be footprints in the sand by now

but the sea's not giving up its secrets
and skies change and change again

shifting sands beneath my feet
vibrate to strange rhythms
a beat too rapid surges -
fails




spirit

it's when i close my eyes
close out the madding crush
allow the hush to come
it's at these times
these quiet, hungry times
i feel you




white flags

fingers
are better than eyes
for discovering flaws

subconscious
speaks truer than
the heart

lovers
march blindly with the band
hands behind their backs
bright hearts exposed




end of an ice-age


although, outside, a frozen waste
all feeling chased away and numb
the movement of her secret core
declares "No, wait! this is not done -
there's more!"

it powers through that glacial crust
vaporising all to dust
combusting quite enough to thaw
her icy status quo




a cat's tail


when tucked around her feet
the tail suggests
a state of firm composure
we can guess
at other messages
but only guess -
her eyes reveal no trace
of mental stress

she sniffs the proffered dish
but watch her tail
flick twice, abruptly, of its
own accord
then with contempt it dips
and flicks again -
to leave behind no doubts
about the meal

when neighbours' cats disturb
my wayward mog
her tail transforms, becomes
an angry snake
accompanied by much hiss
and caterwaul -
stark warning of her
felinicious wrath

when startled by some loud
or sudden noise
her tail appears to swell
to twice its size
points heavenwards, above
her saucered orbs -
a bristled flag that flags her
own surprise

when just the tip is gently
all atwitch
bird-gazing or when lazing
in the sun
with eyes three-quarters closed
and ears adrift -
she's fondly entertaining
nature's fun

for me, she saves a special
tail-ored code
a punctuation used
when i've been gone -
her furry question-mark
requests to know
where have i been and if i,
now, am home?




from the 007 Lit challenge

his thoughts are tailored
closer than his suit
those fire-ice eyes
turn away
his voice asks more
than the question he poses

I sit and think of the surf
how the water streamed from
hard flesh, scarred flesh
wonder how he'd taste on my lips

he hands me the glass
frosted and rimmed

a bead of moisture
slides down its stem
I stroke it away
taste my finger, finding salt
he swallows

*


undercover agents


when I checked out his pen
it seemed out of ink
so i started to twist
screwing its barrel

he took it from me
warned me it might expel
spill unexpectedly
said he didn't want stains
on the shag pile

no, really, he said
don't shake it that way
it'll squirt up the walls
let everone know we were spies

suck it and see
see if it will leak
invisible ink
we can write with

trust me
he said
my word is my bond


*


some
thing about bad boys
keeps her attention
eyes liquid green
a purr in her throat

their
minds, their presence
devilish intentions
keeps her claws sheathed
paws butter-soft

she
slips from the table
stalks the red carpet
hair sleek and shining
a collar of gems

sniffs
at his bare throat
the man with the blue eyes
and with a soft growl
pours into his lap




expanded skulls

in dark delicious silence
torpid grubs burrow
their soft slow way
umber juices atrail
as they inch upwards
inwards
swollen with intent to hatch
in hot, expanded skulls




five word soup poem

poems
like soup
require flavour



not everything

that springs from the soil is good
not everything organic's always wholesome
there's a certain shade of green
of white
that sprouts and dances
pretty in the light
yet harbours poisons
some more subtle than others
all of them intimate





she's cupped
in the white bowl of his thoughts

melting slowly
white on white

stirs her with a lazy finger
brings it to his lips

then sighs
bored with vanilla

if only he'd added
some sauce to the occasion




positive thinking


in a dark and burning world
where even ice catches fire
where skies peel
and the soil is sour
where howlback oscillates
cinder cone to horizon
a shabby soul
may yet get clean

at least
that's what i tell myself




thoughts and tunes - a study in light and shade


half her face is lit
that half furthest from his back
light weighs on his shoulders
curls them inwards
away from her
and the shadows she makes on the table
and that damned half-halo
limning a mirroring curve

and he's unaware
of how her cigarette's smoke
drifts up and away
to that high, narrow window,
its passionless stare

twinned downlighters
over him
over her
shaded thoughts
shaded faces
and though his nose and lips are
lined with light
his eyes are closed

the shadows are speaking
along with the light
listen, you'll hear them
the smokey stroke of ivory
shadows in a wordless voice

and on the table
fourset and square
the handbag
closed
makes shades of its own

she's all closed
arm closing him out
reflecting his angles
nicotine and alcohol mere props in this composition

beneath fingers of light
and shade
no black keys
he brings his own shadows
at least from this angle

as her legs are angled
towards him but crossed
they deny him
she denies all of him
curtains her thoughts
and he is a curved closed shield
tender neck exposed

two chairs:

a dark gap yearns between one and the
light that still spills
on a table top

while the chair at her table
empty as empty can be
as if it's been empty a long time
no-one welcome in that chair




defined by sirens


and the sirens
the sirens
hold the night

define
in strident notes that try to tear
my skull in two
or more
i can't be sure

of anything any more
it's so surreal

i feel the fabric where i sit
its stiff nap
but fingers won't interpret
or tips translate a colour
to a brain that's all night
split
and split again

i've no spit left
with which to swallow
and my ears don't hear
the moving lips of
busy service men
my ears and eyes know nothing

numb with shock
looking at the body
stretched and tubed
obscenely pummeled
over and over

"clear!"

i worry about bruises





waves gather
shake frothy skirts
rush
and boil
crash against indifferent cliff
cling
for foaming moments
enough to stir
then fling away
away
away
eroding
stealing more




sing a song of nookie
muffins hot as pie
all the whores at Hackney
wanted overtime
and when the politicians
began to squirm and writhe
the madam came, got out her tits
and whipped them into line



egg fried rice, egg fried rice
see how he cums
see how he cums
it wasn't much of a chinese shop
but he had such a way with his bold young cock
she almost forgave him for burning the wok
and egg
fried
rice





that sounds so
dirty
in a semi-savant kind of way
intercollectual
textacollectual
like a sneer
like a soucop of disdain
a hot-house, not-house, not-got-of-this-house house
a knot of forgetmenots got basted and boasted
a shabby soufflé with a price to make your eyes water
served up in thimbles
with a 20% tip slapped on top

and yet to fall between the cracks
to slide into the new
for that brief and shining moment -
we'd most of us give our eye teeth for

but let's not fancy it up so
ponce about with labels designed more to exclude
than embrace
face to the pavement
we're all peering through
hoping to catch that small glimpse
of something we're unable to name




dangerous rainbows
threaten village and city
cascading light paints us
all shades and hues
can't make up my mind if it's solar or
deeper,
some bright affinity
under the skin

diversity mocks
the issue of colour
racists stumble wild-eyed
open
confused



live writes bounce

like pebbles off the window
or hail reversing its long long fall in a sudden leap
exhibiting its need to be airborne moments longer
so as to delay the moment of its melt

we hit the plane and bounce in shock
attempting to engineer a reversal of thoughts committed to screen
but gravity sucks us in
and in

we melt
here
right before your eyes




everything's muffled
dis
connected
and the sun's too flat too hard too bright

late night




on receiving news from the CSA

can't help but allow
a little smug ...
warm
as the mug
full of
coffee in my hand
and
the aromatic breath of steam
basting this cupped smile

at least
just for this
just for this
a simple, little while



magic


it snowed last night
it's snowing now
and in this muffled world of white
where day's misnamed
so low the light
and night's brighter
than name allows
children of all ages smile
as adults grow
from man to child




to speak of berries
crushed between fingers
squeezing out the juice of her
that ripe must
that hedonistic lust
topped only by her cries of cream



when sweet oils burn
at midnight or at dawn
smoke curls and wraps
itself about itself
tenuous fingers
subliminal scents



the mirror

the mirror
shows us other worlds
other existences

facing yourself
you find someone else




weather warning


this dirty night
drives nails of ice
deep
into hollow bones

surprised that
after all this time
the ache still finds
its shape




and look
see how the soul-suckers congregate
here
when they ought to have applied
their cold-breath need
to places
people
less holy than themselves

i hear the new Harry Potter film's
still seeking Dementors




writing is as writing does
one aches
one wears one heart
alive
on sleeves of others' making

poor poor poem
drag and drop your muddied skirts
don't stare at me
eyes so wet and wide reproachful
maybe then another day
when your composure may then be regained
you'll strut your stuff on red red carpets




Nancy, oh Nancy
Oliver-betrayor
Lover of the murderer
Sought by Lloyd-Webber
Chosen by the populace
Plump up your cleavage and
Sing!





up there
in the blue
your dark shape hurts my eyes
silhouette against the sun

looking down
you're entranced
your own shadow races
wavering over the dunes

and truly
it's far more interesting






one day i looked up at you
saw that i
was the dunes
you relied on my ripples
to make you appear
fascinating




ah, circe,
herb-wise and generous
with her cheese and honeyed meal
so sweet to serve up magic on a plate
how apt - pigs to pigs
ah - not so fair, those words
sailors ways are not the most refined, but pigs?
perhaps it was a porkie of a tail -
no mind

just as well the one kept wits
about his precious hide and
made off to warn Odysseus

and Herme smiled
bestowed a gift
to change the pace
to change the outcome of the tail
and Batman gleaned his Robin's cry of
Holy Moly!
something new i learned.



Pasiphaë, Pasiphaë,
they really did a job on you;
where was Max Clifford when you needed a publicist?



of all the possibilities
this page affords

i still don't know if i can bring
my schtick to sing
of such deep broads and rising tides
that swell to rush and suck back down
a whirpool of i
deas

when really all's set off by you
your underwater gruff and bloom
that shudders, shivers, shatters high glass rooms
until, exposed, my core shines silver
wet but pulsing yet with scarlet
flame that's free to ..

free to ...

testing testing this be-coming word
free

free
dom's still too new for me
to know quite what to do or be

so back to possibilities
i cannot voice
i cannot vice
i cannot thrice and twice and throw the dice
and roll a pair of deuces like a
maestro
no

that's music not
a metaphor to sloppy-drop
to gamble with a score or move like props upon the dim-lit stage
thank god this bastard thing can be
erased

quick
cover me
snuff me
dry me
stop me

re
think
the brink

and stumble back from
sounding like a freak peer
ing through the muddy chink and looking for the light to ride
away

so gonna regret this




to dance
cheek to cheek
at arm's length
within reach
word-contact
cha-sssaaaaaayyyyyyy

dip
pose
then spin me away on words po-
-etic
more than prose a rose in your teeth well
maybe not the rose but flick, kick,
point and
gliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiddde

i'm more than pink content to ride
the night away as lorencino leads
paso paso
doblé me
stamp and clap and tango me
lorencino
but last
and last
and last of all
i wanna be waltzed


*john, i'm only dancin' but it turns me on - only dancin' ...*




i practise
by looking in the mirror
performing the steps
but my spatial awareness is fooled
by reversals of fortune
made mockery of
by reflections in cold panes

my hands and feet stumble
on awkwardness and misdirection
and i have to take stock
close my eyes
feeeel the beat

when i can't see myself
that's when i dance best
body knows
becomes rhythm
melody
counterpoint

open my eyes and see another
meld the moment, movement, magic
harmonising's fun




water's soft
till you hit it at speed
kinda like love

then

when you're too tired
to hold your head above the surface
you drown





cold


the end of december
is cold
so much older
so rest your head
cry a little in the dark
sparkle
a little in the dark
call my name
in the dark
it's not okay
it's ... all i know
this
writing into space
the dreadful unknown
sounds crazy, i know

i
ask you a favour
read this letter
a spectre on your desk
peel back the mask
over days over nights
it's not okay
i know
in the dark
in the dark
call my name
crazy
out of control
so much older
december is cold


in the dark
my name
december is cold
water's soft
hands and feet
spatial awareness
waltzed
performing the steps


--from eyes
whose sadness is a shockwave
breaking over me--

from gray
pocked skin comes a drumbeat
knocking my chest

from stubbled
face whose slow growth is
an affront to my soft hand

his stubbled skin
oiled soft like a baseball
glove

leans on his fist
bites his knuckles
stands with hands
behind back and
sways his chest

silver hair
pink tie

the hierarchy the
system of credentialing
reknown or just
known once

her look her
vibe her humor
made him feel
interesting made
him feel at home
made him feel
right as if she
were a tropical
fish tank green
and glowing
teeming and
he were the
big fish in
charge
comfortable
at home
he felt as if
he was a stadium
and she the sport
that justified his
existence the
competition
that all eyes
watched but
they commented
on him, too, after
leaving, saying the
seats are mostly all
good there, the facilities
are fine, the fans rowdy
at all the right times
he felt as if he was music
and she was the horn
he was there all the
time but could only
be activated by her
breath in the brass

cold december; dreadlocked adam
ratty house on mainstreet
Racist Rob snorted coke

He'd been having a lot of trouble
every minute he has to fight to
stand still it feels like humiliation
he was asking for help

Do you remember? Was she yelling
at you a lot? You want to move?

Get him out of there

He wants to be a typical. As
long as he wants to fight the
fight, I want to back him up.

He blinks

 

[Palba_Noruda]

Isocolon exercise

I'm extremely worried
On the weekends I draw

My children and my husband should be all that I need to feel happy
My eyes and my smile should be all that I need to feel independent
My pills and my sofa should be all that I need to feel rested

If I get mad at her, she burn herself
If I start dating her, she'll cooperate with the prisoners
If I start punishing her, she'll look like a murder victim

They had two more purposes, worry and beatings
They had two more escapes, the floor and the trench coat
They had two more windows, the pictures and the faces

They give me energy
They give me confidence
They make me happy

 

[Palba_Noruda]

let me hold it close and keep it here
let me put my arms around you and touch your cheek with my cheek
let me act like you and feel like you seem
let me remember fishing at night and the lantern and the lake
let us put on our shiny snap shirts and flirt with the customers
let me say dig it like you say and let me compliment your coat

please can you stop the noise I'm trying to get some rest
please can you take the book from the shelf I'm reading about sleep
please can you tell me what you want I'm trying to make you happy
please can you meet me for coffee I'm trying to drink less
please can you meet me for coffee I need to talk to somebody

do you see the door?
do you see see see?
do you hear that noise?
will you please please please?

will his cheek touch my cheek?
can it be be be?
will his hands touch my chest?
does he like me me me?

*neutral milk hotel; radiohead*

 

[Palba_Noruda]

telling my whole life with his words
pressure air pressure wife pressure
father pressure mother pressure
boss pressure inside pressure
like blood in his veins

the choir in the background
sounded like the harp played
in heaven. It didn't matter.

He killed he lied he failed
to floss his teeth he cheated
he regretted and was shamed
and was pained he went on
and the pressure never
went away it just eased
some when he laughed
and when he loved and
sometimes for no reason
he could discern he would
suddenly feel right for a while
but it never lasted and that
was his life that he sang

 

[Palba_Noruda]

you can come by any time you want

I'll be around

like being all trimmed and shaved after wearing your hair long for a few years

I see myself as a recovering alcholohic, wisened by the life and by the process

I see a prophet

I see someone revealing the truth, pulling the curtain back on the lies on the news, the lies the corporate PR machines feed us

the lies television and elite cadres use to keep themselves fat and happy and the rest of us

Rain Tuesday
let me see your teeth
aw cute
you don't belong
behind that big
oak desk
come out here and
loosen your tie
I hear you
that's so sad
I'm being a good
listener? I try.
You're getting me
drunk, aren't you?

 

[Palba_Noruda]

Joe said "I don't even date
women, except as a compulsion,
and compulsion equals pain.

"I've done it before, and
I can do it again. Give it
up, I mean. Stop.

"I've struck out millions
of times before," Joe said.
"It shouldn't be any harder
this time.

"I date men when I want
a real emotion, something
satisfying. The other is
just a compulsion, but
I can feel myself being
pulled in. I can feel my
body's chemicals boiling
and lifting, my head is
becoming light."

Joe's hair looks
pulled and pushed
like he's been in
the wind. His eyes
look wild, he knows
they look that way.

Joe, you know yourself.
You know you are in
the danger zone. Please
not in this house. It's
the only house that's safe.

 

[Palba_Noruda]

exercise

Among the ship hours was the man
not poor when their beast hitched different
eyes, Christians, cheeks, bright enemies that treated
their friends to live hallowed hands. Understand
the graves, leave the disciples, the whole
cork melted and after the fruit put
time out not good. Sitting longer, the
wine lifted the lost boys, the name
once loose, the liquor making a couple
letters little. What beauty surrounding the colored
tulips, neither filled of language that frightened
clearly nor standing glass reflected on the songbird.

 

[Palba_Noruda]

________________________________________the parking
_____________________________________lot______into
_____________________________________carve your_____television
_______________________________________name____________steer the
________________in enchanted_______________in the________open lockers
______to be living____hallways___________door__________from
we ought_________________our hearts__________________flying
_____________________________smoking_____________and birds
_________________________________exercise_____keyboards
__________________________________like student
​

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

[Palba_Noruda]

found words

I wouldn't read words
for their reasons

television I know
we had listening

captures in paragraph born
by his books the moment

the minute the ground could
experience different fragments

the floor will not silently
share and slam most sacrosanct

text the page presented silence
a kind of stirring spend considerable

sound mixing emphasis up the culture
read sensuality rate thing saying perhaps

no elephant responses all know exists
without someone but adore more

poets not sure since play work aloud
this appreciated wish will let

a few blasted faces thoughts lands
stray another early conversation

always in meter starts resembling
fun sitting looking apparently

favorite small written ability
sings lovely rapping sonics

his lungs eternity very hazard
experience throwing likely

romance visit setting between
more opposites spectrum written

to believe something for changed
alignment consider sounds couple

phone even words sending surely
qualities concepts dry especially

historical exclusions the most
slow spoken audiences sing

page vs. conflict soul artists
jumbled whatever sunk in giant

rich accents difference quickly
reading church most compulsive

predominating folk language
caught up or make can't impulse

see perhaps fan for example
the 1920s never seemed corrugated

across the country lyricism at least
various bits complicated the life

until 50 slam printing soundtracks
play future thoughts result you quote

kinda remembering everything this
stuff thinking favourite thread everyone

won't be complete surprise which killing
sound modern bogus notable writing

why quite possibly prog for standardized
monks thank people as opposed to jazz

late 70s gypsy popularity listening prefer
fifth easier medium that's because Peter

Genesis may have not failed some time
longish unspoken stage possibly brief

memory functioning show even course
com. prof. befits happy brain works

visual people programming ticket channel
receive film gained missed director imagination

the text non-time message pain for example
knowing under impossible expression

someone writing person product
because this part hungry comes

universe aloof speaking simpler
written helpful.com

 

[Palba_Noruda]

She went to rehab
she learned
to see her life
differently her
past her childhood
she learned they were
not perfect they
hurt her when she
was so fragile
she learned to mourn
that pain, that
emotional disturbance
and she learned to
feel angry at them
a the world at
the lost time and
pain and suffering
she learned to be
vulnerable in
safe places

She had a small face
thin eyebrows like
pencil lines pale
blue dress

I won't wear a scarf
around my neck
getting stuck in car doors
like a student caught off
guard in english class

There is a paint can
where is your hat?

This is your lipstick
But where is your key?

There have been streets but
no motion motion boredom
but no promises for at least
the length of a keyboard

For want of class ten
thousand whispers have been
blown the homework of history
newspapers and tombstones rise
above them like umbrellas

It is time to bare your arms
the story of your spirit sees
through your windows

She took long steps
held her arms out to her sides
waving them in their shoulder
sockets, as if she were trying to
regain her balance

Exercise your face
your patterned wrinkles
and whiskers
your novel moles and
poetry zits
the warning vibrations
blowing in reverse
like ceiling fans clicked on
and fading smiles perhaps
mournfully gone

the old explanations almost
sound like dials turning in a
lock feeling different robot
disorders assertive addictions
and secretive trade offs

a fine shudder dancing
in the balance swung
below the hardy minutes
of ear muff bus stops

bored joking sorry the bus
is not easy
let the shoes touch the snow
and put your metal teeth
on the family album

experience leaving one last time
embarrased awkward appearance
as if he were standing naked at the
doctor's office

 

[Palba_Noruda]

Roughly 7 x 7 found-word exercises

one house swelled and already
their bowl gets prized when
shy sinful worker highly bathing
his next crippled friend somebody
thought the moment circles great
neighborhood rounds to glimmering
three six spoon glad in
the silent way swelled malicious

do the cynical first fact surfac
is this always beginning the even trunks
will i just reason the braver profit
In a disturbing lung three birth style
you almost can date even may tube
the younger rest with ill money earn

His children pitted few so
ugly product and the bulb
beep decided nothing learned
would come of a leaves there
reach home to know around
the sorry job because after
enough sheltering you'll make
my sun remember

No almost sound so smiled and
gentler uncalloused extinguishing ages
of half moment Chesterfields her
shook invented always old explanation
on forcing cielings thought long
course aunt tells perhaps crate
loved sweat mournfully and years

At a surely twenty true scribbled
club, last great of we so nothing
gain no squeal by my wispy program
named found followed and I'd talk someone
displayed as rooster shut man disturbing
was complain rules best after sorry
obligations hurried but encroaching favorite

You said I never looked. He was
long Don't perform asleep. Helping
brain slipped in partially sitting fact
after specific sketches, they would
sometimes realize how it suggested
with strangers, anatomy wefted at
books later. Because along his phone

Wiping a warning just repeated
radio; abrupt; repeatedly frightened
the shock better; right that his
experiences when especially ruddy
too swarthy so everyone seemed
politely wicked all age cook vibrant
lifetime invisible; how real even virtue

down into three foothills my
new American team followed the
soldiers. The trooper finally ascertained
his scared exhilarated jabs. I privately
said always take us to my medical
tongue and apologize between slightly
mute fragments. In their tattered
attitudes, minor eyebrows inspired marriage

The part she'd brushed with a
stroke about small boards now
slept because it framed her
cheap mop and tape while I had
the grey looking voice, sunny
and hard. Then he was bright and
he looked himself tight after months

It never invited desks at the
personal wave. Fake voice on dirt
sandwich, sleep radiator lizards sex
I led the elbow like these blonde
tropes nervously looking in fantastically
unsupportive arms. Through frosted
books the village clutched a
quick silence, hitting the best card

I find your melodious troop
on your better meat the
barren joy not similar at our
still fast age like this secular
shed. I open my scarf and
bread comes in me. Though the
order began the old hill will lie

The daggers surely caught
the tops of the back school
the branch noticed speed; some
kitchen shaped about business rushed
for a squealing finger with different
legs and tiny candles; I maintained
the stale apartment because I wandered

First we forgive when
you know hope would
kill all her tiresome defects.
I found all we've thought
Later you forget; never darken
her door, you arranged rather
minor books with no scales

One childhood discovered the
only overcast sky in those
original, basic, shameful
evening of beauty like that
intelligent instant distance.
Jealousy for thick territory
oozing disobedient empty invasions

Outside, his eyes, generally
welcome, were tried and painted
shaved, he brought long, secretly
amused hours already kept, glad
to be taken, called on, eager
A night spoke, an upset pizza suggestd
a pretty blackboard while they loved

 

[butters]

...

she learned to be
vulnerable in
safe places

this
the core
of the bitten apple

 

[Palba_Noruda]

edited from another post elsewhere

I wrote this but really didn't connect it up with the rest of what I was saying, so I'm storing it here for future reference:

I believe there are all sorts of cultural narratives, also known as myths, swirling all around us: in the language, in the culture, etc. The narratives that exist in the language are actually quite limited compared to the number of people/feelings/experiences there are in the world.

Think about a language like Spanish. It is estimated there are 300 million native speakers of Spanish alive right now. But there are only around 100,000 words in the average Spanish dictionary. That means that if every native Spanish speaker wanted his own word, they couldn't get it. If every Spanish speaker wanted her own sentence? Her own story?

I think there are a relatively small number of stories told by our peoples, i.e. the cultures latch onto and repeat a limited number of stories. SO.

Deleted this too:
Like many others, I have always been a reader and have always loved novels most of all. When beginning to try to write stories, I quickly came up against a seemingly impossible brick wall. How do the novelists do it?

It became apparent to me that much of what novelists do IS poetry. Or at least poetic. So I started trying to write poetry.

Also, I began work as a commercial copywriter at one point. It was the best writing training I ever had. There were very strict forms to follow and word palettes to use. I learned all the different forms by looking very closely at the catalogs and advertisements that had been created before me. I copied the forms.

I was good at copywriting and I found out over time that the techniques I used there would be good for all the other sorts of writing.

 

[Palba_Noruda]

one true ceremony all source
fundamentals like gender in
tact, this old darkroom statements
same drawing access miserably
when ancient birth barriers
several pharmacists control out
long listening researchers support

Ferlenghetti, I must have misheard
what you said
There must be some other
way to handle this
Sit down and listen
Now tell me in your
own words, what he just said

Don't interrupt
He's saying what
he said

__To say the curtains
____are stand-offish
_is to call a
___malicious end
__to your wrinkled dance

_______No surely wicked virtue
____________invisible circles somebody
________never slipped all awkward explanations
___________ceiling steps stuck arms shaggy
______spirit I better still darken
________honestly two graceful personalities
__________questions enhance memory
_____________like massage kneads muscle
__________only important gardens
_______________the tree fort
__________________the alley the field
_____________________the watertower
_____________________the pond, the high-walls
___________________________the pit
________________shiny uncertainty
_____________________men in flannel
___________________________shirts and four wheelers
________________waiting would simply maintain


____________pulled to the end
___________________stretched stressed
_______________at the end of the rope

_________who me the shirt
_______________rides the shoulders
____________________the torso
__________sleeps for days then
______________________a swim and
____________________a sauna
_______________dream of sandwiches
_____________feels his like-minded cotton
__________like cheek to cheek
____________________stubble to stubble
_________the shirt with its stretches
________________and thin spots
______________its odor and stains
________it stood before bosses and
__________________friends before computers
___________and in libraries, been
_______________squeezed on the
_____________sofa and car

This home routine here asking feet
shirt focused finished fell little
hardware returned parked he crying
expressed too although whom in
wider good bathroom office softly
how right possibility life job pretty heart
as once plastic mother middle touches

_____She stood on one leg
_________and extended her other
_______her arms up near her
_____________head and she bent
_________at the waste as if she
___________were going to pick
_____________something off the floor
___________or was going to take
_________________a closer look

But I like which again
sun consider dies came every
opened black man sad now
we telling soon time voice
instead solitude while fisherman
time through fathers unending
stone I weren't stopped still

My fortified elements, their customer
whom city longer purpose heard
amid the plush sawmills a early
new pine perhaps lost upon his
church essence called a Lady; teeth
growing said example; the support
must let a historical life

I'd always figured I'd get
married to a woman when
I was ready. But no relationship
I'd ever had with a woman
had ever come to a point where
I'd ever thought of marriage.

The truth was I dated a few
women, but never really much
cared for the experience
even when I had moved in
with April, I never expected
it to last. I respected her
and enjoyed her companionship,
but I eventually decided to
leave her without too much
trouble. In fact, I was
surprised by how cold
and unemotional I'd been when
I told her I was leaving.
It was a lousy way to
end the relationship, but
I'd told the truth, we really
weren't going anywhere, I
wasn't... we weren't...


I put without evidence together
crooked alone; just a liked spoke
solitary sliding stop get other saw
on lumpy finally days she would
ever taste most furious picture he
sent sweaters forever finally
now invented the pony seemed reticent