relocation
TiredSPORADIC POETRY AS USUAL
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prettyI saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, unsharpened, made whole, blessed with slur & impulse & dreadful nonchalance, defined by survival guides, kits filled with mirror & rope, mattresses & two-chord folk songs, cameras falling to the floor. Red wine blooms across t-shirts worn by angel boys inside of whom diamond-stamped pills are unraveling even more diamond-stamped pills. To never be spoon-fed from the same frontal cortex, to encounter an outgrowth of crystalline obstacles & be left with only a soft taste of something -- no images. To see the fake dawn, and then the real dawn! Resonance of boots upon the fire escape, trpretty
by ~otterhare
coco chanelWhether or not the steps leading upwards are ever ours, whether or not our hands are the ones that loosen the orchestral night, all our fortunes read the same -- dreams induced by flying, then muscle punctured by debris. Our fields of vision cross like Chanel double-Cs. Five dollars, then nothing; at most, I'm aware that caution equals error. In every room that once held your body, now a tree of amaretto bitters, now a nest of olive leaves. The winds, by alleyway, arrive resilient. Wasps blow out of every hole in this city. The sky, out of focus, becomes an un-knit quilt. Somebody should fix the badlands of this feeling, cease the foil noisecoco chanel
by ~otterhare
country songToday, tiger, you are leaving. You are leaving & I am eating one of 600 nectarines of summer, feeling lost & sorrowful & pure.country song
Today you will bite the wind with the same ecstatic soreness in the ruminating peach of your rounded jaw, will find yourself divided by the forest, then the desert, then the forest again. Today you might reach the fire-flayed valleys of Kelowna, go beyond the soft dim skies of Hope, mouth the soothing repetitious vowels of Osooyos like a river, or a song.
Today you might blow through the unbuttoned vest of the Coquihalla, feel its thick 200km he
by ~otterhare
socketTired nauseous furious lost & anxioussocket
gnawing prey-eyed at the skin of my fingers
& the parti-coloured stagnant air,
sermons fall flat like footfalls all around me & vaguely I see
my younger brother's forehead anointed with oil,
sealed into an increasingly thinner book;
bashfully he won't look up from his red robe when he walks back...
A pinprick out of stagnancy:
collected sinusoidal fury,
an aperture thru which stops are pushed, colours blown.
Shapes instead of names or faces;
elbows & hands of immigrant plants
by ~otterhare
Random Favourites
MUCHGIRL JAMby =bruno83
Why You Should Never Marry A+Why You Should Never Marry A
Think about it - the way that credit cards, bougainvillea, vacations, dictionaries, the road on the way to work will
all never be enough. The poet wishes
with her deepest bones
and writes that she wishes
she would have killed you
in the supermarket. She wonders why
she ever loved you in song.
She publishes book after book. Each line detailing how your hair is ugly and monstrous in the morning. And how,
like moss, you cling to her
so piteously.
But you marry
by `queenhrosie
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Someone liked one of your poems so much that they suggested it to be featured by *TheFavoritesProject. Now it's your turn to spread the love and suggest someone else's poem to be featured. Just send us a note with a link and our panel of appraisers will vote. It's that simple!
we see ya ma!
--
"My little old man and I fell out;
I'll tell you what 'twas all about,--
I had money and he had none,
And that's the way the noise begun."
but i guess now i scoobie doo
--
"My little old man and I fell out;
I'll tell you what 'twas all about,--
I had money and he had none,
And that's the way the noise begun."
--
"My little old man and I fell out;
I'll tell you what 'twas all about,--
I had money and he had none,
And that's the way the noise begun."
I'm gonna live forever
then they'll remember my name
remember remember remember remember
remember remember remember remember
FAV!
*roaring applause*
Thank you little otter person
--
"My little old man and I fell out;
I'll tell you what 'twas all about,--
I had money and he had none,
And that's the way the noise begun."
do ba de doo-doo, whop-bop bop OH!
--
"My little old man and I fell out;
I'll tell you what 'twas all about,--
I had money and he had none,
And that's the way the noise begun."
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