Internet still funky, i.e. on/off.
Days in NYC still box-ridden.
Some can turn obstacles into art.
Others can only churn out elephants, and even those,
just one at a time.
Posted tagged ‘manicddaily’
“Is It Working Now?”
March 6, 2013Carnegie Hall (sort of)
March 5, 2013
The above is a quick sketch of the stage at Carnegie Hall.
I wanted also to write a quick sketch about the stage at Carnegie Hall, which is really beautiful. The plasterwork has wonderfully florid runs, rather like the piano music. But my internet, unlike a great pianist, is not performing very well. (It’s an encore of its recent breakdown. Once more I am stuck on phone.)
Grrr…. I have spent endless amounts of time plugging and re-plugging in wires and cables. All of which saps the good old lyricism.
Maybe tomorrow.
Change for Women
March 3, 2013
Change for Women
Screams, I fear, can only be
counted upon
if clear help is
close by.
Change seems to me more of a
c-word–curved as a breast but coming
as cash,
contraceptives, clinics, condoms
children’s education, codification,
clitorises (uncut),
control – all
clasped
in our own closed fists–even, cautiously,
the clitorises.
Oh, how we will cheer.
************************************
I am posting the above – yes, it is an odd poem – for Susie Clevenger’s prompt on With Real Toads, called “We Scream Today.” I think that the prompt focuses more on violence against women – clearly, a huge issue, but one I just couldn’t bear to focus on this weekend. Also, frankly, in much of the world, women are powerless not only because of violence but because they have no true economic rights. Programs that make loans to women, allow women to establish their own bank accounts, to have some separate economic life from their husbands, have proved very successful in helping children as well as women. And, of course, I can’t think about women’s rights around the world without thinking of women’s rights to keep their bodies intact. I have written on this issue (FGM) before.
I thought of ending this poem with the line “Oh, how we will scream then,” in place of the current last line, but that seemed a little flippant. If anyone has a different view, however, feel free to voice it.
(All rights reserved, as always, in poem and pic.)
Jaipur (In Brief)
March 2, 2013
Jaipur
Cold inside, I foolishly drink
two cups of strong hot tea.
Now I will sit awake all night
thinking of you.
********************************************************
Here is an older short poem about Jaipur, called the “Pink City”, in Rajasthan, India. The picture above is not the pink stone typical of Jaipur, but then again, the poem takes place at night. (The pic is also from Agra, sorry! It is not dissimilar.) I am posting the poem for Fred Rutherford’s Poetics Prompt at dVerse Poets Pub, asking poets to keep things short.
A version of this poem is in my book, “Going on Somewhere.” Also if you like elephants (of which Jaipur has many), check out my book 1 Mississippi (which is chock full of elephants!)
All rights reserved in photo, poem.
Letter Letter (From an Admirer)
February 27, 2013
Letter Letter (From an Admirer)
Hey “A”–
You make
my day–“O” there’s “B”–where would we be
without “B”?–But “B”
and “C” (for all its mimicry of “S” and “K”) are just not
“U”.
Nor you.
My aching, awkward “A.”
My ass-backwards Affecter
of Able, my Aper of Avant-Garde Angst, my
‘ap’azard Artiste, ah-singing Ariator, Applauder at my ambling Audition (my sainted
Aunt), Alibi
for the Awful, Aviator of Away, Aspirant to
Amour, my Angle
on just about All of it, my Atoms of
Adam and also you-know-who, and, mon
Ami (so much more Article than
indefinite), the Apple, always Apple,
of my Aye–
******************
Here’s a very draftish poem which I am posting from my apple iPhone as still without wifi (agh!) for Kerry O’Connor’s With Real Toads Prompt to write an “open letter”. I wrote mine to a letter. I don’t know that A is my favorite letter but it’s a good one.
Staying on couch
February 26, 2013
Staying on a couch in the midst of a move
It’s as if the apartment were unclothed;
I cannot put on enough blanket
To warm bared walls.
It’s as if my daughter’s Beatles’ posters had been
Fringed comforters, stacked bookshelves
Quilts, photos pilot lights, paintings
Hearths, the cozy chair a cozy
Chair.
Remnants of tape crust surfaces–blank nails–
Fossils of sea creatures found in desert shale–I, unmoored, grow increasingly less sure
Of what to make of them; why were they
Here, who
Do they signify?
Huddle under the slump of remaining coverlet.
*********************
In the midst of a move and staying in my vacant apartment, which has inadvertently lost wifi, so writing and posting from the iPhone. It is a great device but has limits in these circumstances. For example, it does not heat a February-chilled space! (I am truly sorry to be so whiny but it is really really cold in here! I’m not sure why.)
Poem supposed to be for dverse poets open link night.
In the Black Hole
February 25, 2013
Of no Internet tonight!
(Thank goodness for iPhone!)
Yes, my addiction to connection is a bit ridiculous.
(Still, thank goodness the phone also has music on it! A bit hard to dance in cold silence! )
(And if you are both wifi-less and kind of cold–I am still in the midst of moving homes this grey North East February–there is really nothing more useful than a little dancing.)
(Do not try on thin ice!)
That Time of Year Again (Oscar Night)
February 24, 2013I am not going to be able to watch the awards show tonight. No TV and faulty internet. But I did want to honor some great old Hollywood favorites! (My apologies to those of you who have seen these pictures before – you have also probably seen the movies more than once! )
If you have a free moment during the award show- I expect there will be commercials – please please please check out, my comic novel,NOSE DIVE, book of poetry, GOING ON SOMEWHERE, or children’s counting book 1 MISSISSIPPI.
Orange Who?
February 23, 2013
Photo by Izy Gruye
Orange Who?
And a knock knock–orange you glad I didn’t
say banana? Which seemed uproarious
to me as young child, packed full of hidden
punch as in you wanna whole mess of
Hawaiian—which poured out neon red
as dye number four–a liquid lipstick
we could sip and smack, our grimaces ad
libbed ad infinitum, all puns our thick
intoxicants–going down so slow
first go, but then, in repeated flares,
fire krispies that snapped, crackled, popped, oh–
pop! pop! as in Hop On, as in where’s
the beef, Waldo, fee fie fofana talk—
(Orange you glad I didn’t say–knock knock?)
****************************************
A reading of the poem:
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Here’s a kind of silly (sort of) sonnet for dVerse Poets Poetics hosted by Kelvin S.M., and inspired by his lovely orange painting, and also for Real Toads, fourteen line poem prompt hosted by Kerry O’Connor, and inspired by Izy Gruye’s child photograph! (A lot of inspiring visuals here!) Thanks to Kelvin and Izy and Kerry.
Some quick process notes for those who did not grow up in my time frame in the U.S. — “Orange You Glad I didn’t Say Banana” was the last line to a very old (and one of my first) knock knock jokes (which involved answering banana to the first several knock knocks.)
“Do you want a Hawaiian punch” was another pun in an old commercial for a fruit drink. Red Number 4 was a very commonly used bright red dye.
Hop on Pop is a book by Dr. Seuss. Where’s Waldo? a series of popular books, Banana fana fofana -was a refrain from a famous song called The Name Game.
A Sahara of Sorts
February 23, 2013
A Sahara of Sorts
The desert’s dessert’s a date; mine
came late, with hair palm-mussed
and blushes deep as sunburn stuttering
through the tangle of door and greeting.
We rushed to an encampment
of sheet–each, just late
of a “relationship” (as in
left high and dry) and
not yet willing to wade into any
true waters, but still deserving–make that,
desperate for–a firm moist warmth
that whetted (otherwise) arid lips and tasted
in night’s desolation almost
sweet.
**************************
Here’s a rather silly, but I hope fun, poem for Hannah’s desert challenge on With Real Toads
Since initially posting, I inadvertently un-posted, so I am posting again.
ManicDDaily 
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