[Nate]

Everyone here on CGR involved in this this year is writing really really great stuff. Keep it up, guys.

[Role Modlin]

Okay...I'm getting caught up on posting these.


4-5-09

---

Big Bang

supernova sunset
a thousand points of light
innumerable galaxies
exploding in your eyes
surf the solar winds
on your sub-atomic kiss
we ride the dying comets
till we become the myth


4-6-09

---

World Without You

I stand at your door and knock.
The weight of the world
suffocates me.
I have hitch-hiked
across time and space,
hoping to find you.
One glimpse is all I need
to put everything in place.
I call your name
but no one answers.
Through the window I see
your cape trampled on the floor.
Your secret identity
lies balled up in the corner.
A suicide note,
written in someone else's hand,
is taped to your body.
Tears fill my eyes
I turn away,
alone in this universe
once more.


4-7-09

---

too many stars

There's too many stars
for me to shine
tonight.
I can only
reflect the light
they bring.
I can only
echo the songs
they sing.
My words ring hollow
contrived and untrue.
The skies are cluttered
constellations muddied
and I am just another
dying meteor
streaking out of view
to make way.
There's too many stars
for me to shine
tonight.

[Role Modlin]

4-8-09

---

untitled #2

If I could only prove
that I love you
would you forgive
all the things I've done
lies that erode the sand
from beneath our feet
every wayward glance
at lovers less suitable
lust that kills the flame
you have kindled within
If I could only prove
that I love you
would it hurt less
when I begin to turn
and walk away again
into the arms of another
hugs that leave you cold
and have me gasping breathless
bathed in bitter kisses
that numb my taste for you

[Role Modlin]

Along For The Ride

I pocket the subway token
and before I know it
I hop the turnstile and run.
Jimmy and Frankie are up ahead
cans of spray paint in hand.
Jimmy grins over his shoulder
and I almost fall in.
Silver chains dangle
from his black leather jacket.
They jingle as we run
just like in the Tom Petty song.
Tattoos snake their way
through the scars and needle tracks
that conceal his snow white arms.
He calls my name in between drags
from the generic cigarettes
he swiped from his Mom's purse.
My heart swells and I know
our time has finally come.
Tonight, history will be made
legends will be born down here
in these musty tunnels.
Myths will be etched
into the subway walls.
young punks will recite the tale
around fires that burn in rusty drums.
Jimmy is a god among men
his exploits know no end
and tonight, oh baby, tonight
I'm along for the ride.

[ryan a johnson]

Young, I saw small cones of grapes
growing in the backyard,
I learn later that these are not fruit
but lupine, which later I learn
is not the floral synonym of
a ravenous disease.

[ryan a johnson]

Somehow have plans outside
of writing, so here are some
well formed lines about
the human condition and
some metaphors relating to
the events of Good Friday,
both past and present.

[Jeffrey]

Originally Posted by Emo_Rachael

Yesterday's. Again, no title.


Just below its skin
the Earth digests my father,
filters out the unfair
impatient
irritating.
Leaves the laughter
love
life.

When I remind someone of him
it can only be a compliment.

My God. Amazing.

[Pre-Ex-Girlfriend]

I'm still behind, but here's a few more:

---

Untitled

My mom called from across the country
to invite me to Easter dinner.
I looked out the window,
saw a rabbit,
and said, "Yes."


A typical Day

I wake up to a spider in my bed.

A five-car pile-up make me twenty minutes late.

Two men stuck on the elevator discover
they are long-lost enemies
and put each other in the hospital.

Susan tells me she hates my guts
before impaling them with her stilettos.

Mr. Johnson calls me into his office
and before I can comment on his dreary,
hooded robe and poor choice of lighting,
he covers my mouth with his monogrammed
hanky. I swim the room as the chanting begins.

Flash flood
torrents of blood
wash away
falling felines.

A giant worm swallows us whole.

Tonight
I dream of
paying bills.


On The Amida Falls in the Far Reaches of the Kisokaido Road
Or, Picnic by the Waterfall

Two figures paddle
narrowly missing a rock
then frantically battle
away from a deadly drop.

The current wins
figures swim
safely in the lake.

When made of paper,
cut-out and painted,
you have no bones to break.


Waiting for the 502

The retro Asian girl
bobs her knees to
Miley Cyrus as
I tap my heel
to a wall of sound.

Out of sync
only watching the world.



Don't laugh, I'm bearing my soul.

If Asians all look the same,
how can you tell which ones aren't cool?

Oh, God, I think I might be racist.

[Role Modlin]

4-10-09

---

Hugs & Kisses

Sandpaper rubs her cheek
raw as she sobs goodbye,
burglarizing his touch
under August moonlight.
Leery eyes observe the
scene playing out by the
rusty garden gate. Mom
and Dad say she's too young
and they ought to know, they
welcomed her one April
night when their friends danced
cheek to cheek, twirling in
the gym at Senior Prom.

[Role Modlin]

4-11-09

---

physiognomy

tempests roar
behind her eyes
emotions toss to and fro
circumnavigating the spaces
between her furrowed brows
angry autumn sun
on her cheeks
portends the coming fury
silent, pursed lips betray
the deluge of obscenities
that baptize and christen me
her latest victim

[ryan a johnson]

This is one pound of flesh, the drafts
between tree skin and lichen, that
window which is too small, the back
seat of a borrowed car, various things
left in ditches, the side booth
at the diner with wonderful gravy,
the sidewalk between the barbershop
and the craft store, the sound of how
sacred you sit.
How sacred you sit.

[Nate]

Originally Posted by Mr. Role Modlin

Along For The Ride

This one is really good, Mr. Modlin.

He calls my name in between drags
from the generic cigarettes
he swiped from his Mom's purse.

These lines in particular are really nice.

Where most poets go wrong is picking lousy descriptions.

You've managed to describe the cigarettes and the smoking scene in a way that's not cliche, and adds to the character.

Anyone can write stuff like "between drags from his cigarettes and blows puffs of smoke into the stuffy air" or something like that.

"Generic cigarettes he swiped from his Mom's purse" is really nice, though, and unexpected. We get a hint of Jimmy's personality from it, rather than just a picture of the scene.

[ryan a johnson]

The strawberries rest triangled near knives of various sizes. The dog pisses on paper bags and half of everyone gets up from the table. Between the light and rain the clouds there do not look like clouds. They are foreign gas. I ask mom how long it would take to microwave a person and she says no.

[Nate]

Originally Posted by Emo_Rachael

A typical Day

I wake up to a spider in my bed.

A five-car pile-up make me twenty minutes late.

Two men stuck on the elevator discover
they are long-lost enemies
and put each other in the hospital.

Susan tells me she hates my guts
before impaling them with her stilettos.

Mr. Johnson calls me into his office
and before I can comment on his dreary,
hooded robe and poor choice of lighting,
he covers my mouth with his monogrammed
hanky. I swim the room as the chanting begins.

Flash flood
torrents of blood
wash away
falling felines.

A giant worm swallows us whole.

Tonight
I dream of
paying bills.


On The Amida Falls in the Far Reaches of the Kisokaido Road
Or, Picnic by the Waterfall

Two figures paddle
narrowly missing a rock
then frantically battle
away from a deadly drop.

The current wins
figures swim
safely in the lake.

When made of paper,
cut-out and painted,
you have no bones to break.

These two are really good. I'm not sure I get the point of breaking up the last and third-to-last stanzas of "A typical day," but it's a really effective piece overall. The second one is equally as effective. I love poetry with little twists like this that you don't expect. You've got a nice pair of twists in these two.

[Nate]

Originally Posted by ryan a johnson

The strawberries rest triangled near knives of various sizes. The dog pisses on paper bags and half of everyone gets up from the table. Between the light and rain the clouds there do not look like clouds. They are foreign gas. I ask mom how long it would take to microwave a person and she says no.

Dude. You need to quit your day job.

"half of everyone" is an especially nice phrase.