I write two kinds of poetry:
- “On Demand” – meaning: people give me a topic, a time constraint (3 minutes), and a number of words. These poems are usually rough.
- “I Meant That” – poems I worked on without constraint.
I started a new category called “Best Poems“, which is a collection of category #2 (I had time to think and edit).
I did this so that you can read the stuff I think is my best.
Again from Zeitgeist, 6/29/08.
Word Count; 10
(The fellow who offered the topic was clearly quite drunk and the subject is obviously a product of his state of intoxication. But whatever – the idea with the poems on demand is you never know what someone is going to come up with, and you have to embrace it.)
All else hides inside
Testicles have far more worldly ambition.
Another Zeitgeist poetry challenge from 6/29/08.
Topic: “Sheep’s Milk”
Word Count: 17
Before my first sip
The image of the farmer that fucked this beast.
Do I want to swallow?
I speak of her in superlatives
that are tragically in the past tense.
When the wisdom you gain with age
illuminates only failure patterns you can’t break
When progress becomes finding flaws
that have no solutions
Faith becomes a suspicious option.
How ironic that the most sacred thing you are left with
is a spiritual investment that can only pay off when you’re dead,
and the superlatives about life
are always in the past tense.
Having just seen and just blogged about Il Postino, I’m suddenly inspired to work on my own poetry.
While I keep most of my poetry on hordlobovich.com, I have several recent poems I never got around to putting on that site.
Here’s one that I finally finished.
I want you to be my mistress for a lifetime
Because for us this hideaway is more precious
re-arranging life’s building blocks
with a goal in mind.
I don’t want to carry the weight of the world with you
That would be a waste of magic.
I want to sneak into your apartment when there is a blackout,
Where you have lit candles and sit with your cat
In angry feline regality.
Let’s spend a lifetime kissing and smoking in the
Shadows of the pillars we are compelled and disheartened to climb,
Forever telling our survival secrets
Only being true to this most real bond we won’t acknowledge
Loving that there is another in the world
Exactly like us;
We will not tolerate the sun and all that orbits around it
The useless orbiting masses
We have no use for them
And that gives us our purpose
I write this now, intoxicated, because
Intoxication is our hidden wink
We will embrace in the alleyways
And in that, create the grandeur our high school yearbooks expected.
And, awake, live in the dream world others envision
When they are asleep.