3 posts tagged “poetry”

random notes for the day:

on my way to bio 2, i picked up a female pine cone off the ground.  she was covered in male pollen and there were little red insects crawling all over her. it was a cross-phylogenic domain orgy.  i gave her to dr. revell and he was like "oh, thank you! (now, let me give you a pop quiz on coniferophyta!) where on the tree is the female pinecone located? what about the males?" I'm like, "high" and "low" and then I was like "but i found her on the floor with sperm all over her, so she's kind of a whore." but she also had a seed- a baby! how cute.

i got a 46 on my last practicum but it's okay 'cause that's the score i'm going to drop and now i'm going to have plenty of time to study up for future tests.

oh, today was my last day at radiohacks, by the way.

here's another event for the day, presented in instant messenger form:

MizzEllieBee:  okay so i came up with this character called Shminkus Pinkus years ago when I took improv classes
MizzEllieBee:  and i used to sign up for things on the internet with the name Shminkus Pinkus
DecolonizeYourself:  haha
MizzEllieBee:  and Shminkus Pinkus is STILL gettng mail
MizzEllieBee:  I think Shminkus gets more mail than I do.
MizzEllieBee:  he just got offered a membership for the museum of tolerance.
DecolonizeYourself:  hahaha

I've never been to the museum of tolerance, btw. So remind me to go. My grandma was a holocaust survivor and such.

I think I'll end this with the poem I just wrote for my creative writing class. The prompt was to use line breaks in a way your don't normally use them. I also had to use a kitchen appliance, an article of clothing, three words out of a list of words given in the textbook (i chose "maniacal", "wrinkle", and "sprawling"), a line about a town i've never lived in, and a song title.

widow style

she
put
the
milk in the freezer to freeze it
ho-
ping
you'd melt it
a
half
empty
glass
with much more to it than its presence
sweater left
in the drier
she
was
ho-
ping you'd run it
so she could scream when you discover what she knows:
DRY.
CLEAN.
ONLY.

A Little Help From My Friends?
'cause
she
can get maniacal
And when I just
Let
It
Be
I end up tracing
every
last
wrinkle

every individual's fate, inevitable, becomes far too personal

and the day when she finally got up and left her zip code we ended up finding her sprawling on the hotel floor of the city of waikiki where the beaches are bleached in beauty and the drugs and ho's are aplenty and we've fucked that place up with industrialization and tourism, now haven't we?

but the more
she
we try
to make sense out of
life
it's like making sense out of frozen milk
and an early, unforeseen, God-given
death

[bio 2 classmates, scroll down 2 posts for lab 6 dissection videos]

Assignment from Kowit's "In the Palm Of Your Hand": Get out some paper and a pen and start writing whatever comes to your head. Don't stop to think about it or go back and edit any of it, just keep writing. (Written @ Starbucks, downtown Covina)

Trust me, this will flow out better if I pursure characters that match the lingual pattern of one another; already I have astounded myself at the power of ending in -er. ER down the street with the hospital lights and ambulence beats and maybe perhaps someone taking their very last breath as we speak

It reminds me of my very own unstable mortality. But that doesn't just apply to me; the wind you felt on your face at the beach will eventually reach the inland streets just like the one outside the establishment here where I sip coffee adjacent to the hospital machine beeps fading to a straight line.

But that's just the life cycle we've signed on to. The one we can't help but belong to and just like this piece of paper and the ones that will follow, I can't go back and re-read and scratch out what I never meant to borrow from the reserve of possibilities and chances that have been thrown at me. No matter how much time you waste planning perfection, it will go down in uneditable, invevitable history.

Often, I apply this to the fact that I feel and never have the love that is possible; I think the semi-colon agrees.  I put too much effort in the articulation of the powers of the world against me that I forget how to feel, turn the page.

I'd like to, but I won't scream out the irony of the first love to break my heart after falling so mutually is now confiding in me of another long-after lover initiating his breaking and now he's back to dating? What makes me? What makes me the one whose capacities can handle his inadequacies?

Now the man who monitors the hospital monitor beats is pointing at me

You're still alive, don't worry.

So whatever, I've already done better. The punctuation in this whole entire education I've endeavored can agree. Even the ex-date on the other side of the coffee shop, unaware of my presence. Even he's found appreciation of my character amongst my insanity.  I'm always bitter that I'm alone when I find them out in public with another. Not from jealousy, but because somebody must have been lying when they said I could do better.  I, by myself, must be really amazing. Amazingly, utterly boring. I can only stand taking myself on so many dates. I can only afford so much of my inexpensive tastes.

Who am I kidding? I've got 9 classes, 2 part-time jobs, and 1 stick up my ass. Don't let me write freely about my faults like this, again.

Peace sounds
Now only church bells ring out to mark the hour
We stack books like walls of defense against the crowd
Tanks of caffeine at my feet
I build shrines of useless facts to me while my professors sleep
Obsess without seeming obsessive
Until I one day perfect the message
And I can lead the crowds I once opted myself out

eye contact has become easier and easier to avoid
increase of light screens and machine beeps in our toil
is this culture pressure or is this microevolution?
restrict freedom of movement until we force a favored solution
innocense still exists
but it has certainly stopped dancing

Truly, is this true or does age simply disenchant us?
Last time I expressed my insides, others seemed a bit embarassed
I never claimed I was some princess or genius
But we'll probably become fetal if we absolutely never hear it

& back in the level playing field of the classroom
I am told statistics show that eventually, I'll never not matter
I am, we are, here for more than the reasons of someone else's reason for being
So if you're never not down for the challenges at the risks of higher ground
Quite franky, that's your state of well-being
That's your decision.