This is my first post-election poem. I had just read a couple of poems by John Clare when I wrote it. Too doggerelish? Thanks
Blank
I’ve lost my country
I’ve lost my wife
I’ve lost my child
I’ve lost my health
I’ve lost my job
(A hundred times)
I lost my mind
To blank.
But with only pain
To fill it in
I found myself
The earth.
I dropped the serial past participles in this version to make it sound more direct.
I lost my country
I lost my wife
I lost my child
I lost my health
I lost my job
(A hundred times)
I lost my mind
To blank.
But with only pain
To fill it in
I found myself
The earth.
And after the above poem this one–like 5 minutes later. Any better? Thanks
Star Study
The solitude of stars
Is just their distance set
But I’ve seen that distance
In a face and felt it
In my soul, a wonder
Of the faraway beyond
A voice or touch.
Thanks. I agree. I also had a reservation that its serial morbidity looked too contrived. So how about this one–I wrote this morning–my 3rd in 24 hrs. Any impressions?
For my high school students
What I remember is myself as you
So I try not to judge (but do)
Because I did avoid drink & sweets
And friends playing chicken with locomotives
“You asshole! Stop this car now!”
And always preferred to live another day
For my bizarre sexual fantasies
While voting Republican. And
So I judge but never unjustly
And start at the top, beheading
Only those who pump you full
Of shit, the Hollywood pimps, some
Columnists for the Washington Post,
And New York Times and so forth.
Truth be told
You’ve made quite a Hitler out of me
But it’s always in your behalf, in your
Interest when heads roll, something
Good I can do now that I’m old and uncool.
Meantime you stay healthy and fit,
Enjoy fucking your wives, do a good job
And, unlike me, keep your mouth shut to keep it
While even more heads roll
And I do the work of love.
Slightly adjusted line 14. I used to teach high school and may yet again when my money runs out. Think they’d hire me in Vermont?
For my high school students
What I remember is myself as you
So I try not to judge (but do)
Because I did avoid drink & sweets
And friends playing chicken with locomotives
“You asshole! Stop this car now!”
And always preferred to live another day
For my bizarre sexual fantasies
While voting Republican. And
So I judge but never unjustly
And start at the top, beheading
Only those who pump you full
Of shit, the Hollywood pimps, some
Columnists for the Washington Post
Or New York Times and such.
Truth be told
You’ve made quite a Hitler out of me
But it’s always in your behalf, in your
Interest when heads roll, something
Good I can do now that I’m old and uncool.
Meantime you stay healthy and fit,
Enjoy fucking your wives, do a good job
And, unlike me, keep your mouth shut to keep it
While even more heads roll
And I do the work of love.
This poem was hilarious to me—even with its rough edges—so I tried to smooth it out some. Maybe it has achieved the level of literature, maybe not. Or maybe it’s good enough at least that I can still count on you for a letter of recommendation for my next high school teaching stint—in Vermont.
To My High School Students
What I remember is myself as you
So I try not to judge (but do)
Because I did avoid drink & sweets
And friends playing chicken with trains
“You asshole! Stop this car now!”
That is, preferred to live another day
For my bizarre sexual fantasies
(While voting Republican). And
So I judge but never unjustly
And always start at the top, beheading
Just those elites
Who pump you full of shit:
The Hollywood pimps for one, a
Salt mine for The New York Times,
The Washington Post et alia.
Truth be told
You’ve made quite a Hitler of me
But it’s always in your behalf, in your
Interest when heads roll, something
Good I can do now that I’m old and uncool.
Meantime you stay healthy and fit,
Enjoy fucking your wives, do a good job
And, unlike me, keep your mouth shut to keep it
While even more heads roll
And I do the work of love.
I ran this poem by a couple of my homeboys, certified MAGA men, and got only blank expressions and crossed arms. The two most problematic lines for them seemed to be “For my bizarre sexual fantasies” and “Enjoy fucking your wives.” (They all have wives.) Perhaps, as Wallace Stevens put it, this poem should remain in a “gallery of one’s own.”
86: October 31st 2020 | bottlecap
PoemShape 
This is my first post-election poem. I had just read a couple of poems by John Clare when I wrote it. Too doggerelish? Thanks
Blank
I’ve lost my country
I’ve lost my wife
I’ve lost my child
I’ve lost my health
I’ve lost my job
(A hundred times)
I lost my mind
To blank.
But with only pain
To fill it in
I found myself
The earth.
LikeLike
I dropped the serial past participles in this version to make it sound more direct.
I lost my country
I lost my wife
I lost my child
I lost my health
I lost my job
(A hundred times)
I lost my mind
To blank.
But with only pain
To fill it in
I found myself
The earth.
LikeLike
Doggerel, I’m afraid. Don’t think there’s any rescuing this.
LikeLike
And after the above poem this one–like 5 minutes later. Any better? Thanks
Star Study
The solitude of stars
Is just their distance set
But I’ve seen that distance
In a face and felt it
In my soul, a wonder
Of the faraway beyond
A voice or touch.
LikeLike
Reads the the note-to-self outline for an actual poem. :)
LikeLike
Thanks. I agree. I also had a reservation that its serial morbidity looked too contrived. So how about this one–I wrote this morning–my 3rd in 24 hrs. Any impressions?
For my high school students
What I remember is myself as you
So I try not to judge (but do)
Because I did avoid drink & sweets
And friends playing chicken with locomotives
“You asshole! Stop this car now!”
And always preferred to live another day
For my bizarre sexual fantasies
While voting Republican. And
So I judge but never unjustly
And start at the top, beheading
Only those who pump you full
Of shit, the Hollywood pimps, some
Columnists for the Washington Post,
And New York Times and so forth.
Truth be told
You’ve made quite a Hitler out of me
But it’s always in your behalf, in your
Interest when heads roll, something
Good I can do now that I’m old and uncool.
Meantime you stay healthy and fit,
Enjoy fucking your wives, do a good job
And, unlike me, keep your mouth shut to keep it
While even more heads roll
And I do the work of love.
LikeLike
Slightly adjusted line 14. I used to teach high school and may yet again when my money runs out. Think they’d hire me in Vermont?
For my high school students
What I remember is myself as you
So I try not to judge (but do)
Because I did avoid drink & sweets
And friends playing chicken with locomotives
“You asshole! Stop this car now!”
And always preferred to live another day
For my bizarre sexual fantasies
While voting Republican. And
So I judge but never unjustly
And start at the top, beheading
Only those who pump you full
Of shit, the Hollywood pimps, some
Columnists for the Washington Post
Or New York Times and such.
Truth be told
You’ve made quite a Hitler out of me
But it’s always in your behalf, in your
Interest when heads roll, something
Good I can do now that I’m old and uncool.
Meantime you stay healthy and fit,
Enjoy fucking your wives, do a good job
And, unlike me, keep your mouth shut to keep it
While even more heads roll
And I do the work of love.
LikeLike
This poem was hilarious to me—even with its rough edges—so I tried to smooth it out some. Maybe it has achieved the level of literature, maybe not. Or maybe it’s good enough at least that I can still count on you for a letter of recommendation for my next high school teaching stint—in Vermont.
To My High School Students
What I remember is myself as you
So I try not to judge (but do)
Because I did avoid drink & sweets
And friends playing chicken with trains
“You asshole! Stop this car now!”
That is, preferred to live another day
For my bizarre sexual fantasies
(While voting Republican). And
So I judge but never unjustly
And always start at the top, beheading
Just those elites
Who pump you full of shit:
The Hollywood pimps for one, a
Salt mine for The New York Times,
The Washington Post et alia.
Truth be told
You’ve made quite a Hitler of me
But it’s always in your behalf, in your
Interest when heads roll, something
Good I can do now that I’m old and uncool.
Meantime you stay healthy and fit,
Enjoy fucking your wives, do a good job
And, unlike me, keep your mouth shut to keep it
While even more heads roll
And I do the work of love.
LikeLike
I ran this poem by a couple of my homeboys, certified MAGA men, and got only blank expressions and crossed arms. The two most problematic lines for them seemed to be “For my bizarre sexual fantasies” and “Enjoy fucking your wives.” (They all have wives.) Perhaps, as Wallace Stevens put it, this poem should remain in a “gallery of one’s own.”
LikeLike