Friday, October 14, 2016

OTI:three poems and notes:10/14/16

Open To Interpretation


Dead men fighting in their graveyards
Hiding behind their tombstones
Picking up their pieces
Covered with their feces
Dead men in their playgrounds
Laughing at their loud sounds
Screaming with the inbounds
Huddled behind their tombstones
Dead men in their graveyards
Picking out the hot shards
Blood pouring from warm wounds
Brains thinking on cold grounds
Dead men praying in their churchyards.


You'll find the likes of me
In old pool halls
Poking the balls about
Half smiling
Half frowning
Like that players' mask
Comedy tragedy
Sometimes the kids
Come in
Playing hooky from school
Boys with their girls
Knocking the balls around
While they flirt
They should be studying
How to run out
Occupies my attention
First shot misses
I smile frown
They haven't a clue
Or maybe I'm the fool
To keep my cue.


You'll find the likes of me
In the laundry mat
At the little tables
With a donut and a coke
Poking at the keypad
Making a poem
Maybe about war
Maybe about peace
So long
As we don't run around naked
The dryer machines
Go 'round 'n' 'round.


Notes: well, I had the line, 'dead men fighting in their graveyard', and thought to make something Halloweenish...and made things miserable...reference turn it up song Dead Man's Party by Oingo Boingo...oh, to make Cadence even more miserable, add the f--- word before the lines ending noun(s)...then it's really a cadence...Cue and Spin...meditations on the same dilemma...taking things serious while others are oblivious...I was reading wiki's take on the Korean War...from 1949 to 1953 about...brb...June 25, 1950 – July 27, I was born March 26, 1948, I was a kid then...oblivious...I don't recall a thing on television...all kinds of things about WW2...knew some things from building plastic models...our bombing reduced North Korea to rubble...and we kept bombing the rubble...with aid from Russia and China, the North Koreans persisted...underground, spread out...later we did likewise to Laos...more bombs dropped there than anywhere...Afghanistan again...bombed to rubble the rubble bombed again and again...and on youtube now a crowd of clips from Syria...rubble...we're the UN's muscle...sometimes there's a coalition, sometimes not...but the purpose is the same...boundaries are drawn, however they came about, and no one is to cross them...inside their boundaries nations can pretty much do what they want, but poach on a neighboring country's turf, and the muscle, US, will show up...the UN is a fine notion, but it can't encroach on nations' sovereignty, can't have it's own muscle, that would be an, we're the muscle and just deal with the uproar...I say we, but 'we' is fictitious...we're kids...oh, I went to Wednesday's Orange County Poetry Club reading, brought home another book, No Peace In Our Time by T. Monroe...Tom runs the readings...not a big crowd!...but attentive, and poems harsh, until a kid got up and read hers, which were kind of harsh too!, but sweet...wish I could hear/discern better...audience is always picking up on things, the punch lines and such, that I miss...the OCPC audiences are becoming the 'reader over my shoulder'!..."leave your body at the door"--Oingo Boingo...

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