Monthly Archives: September 2009

Poem: “Scratch a Thought Here”, fr. notebooks, Jim Stallings

Scratch a thought here

And bare a fang

Losers line up

Individuals without hands—

Snow in wintertime

Food in larder

Bread in oven

Door opening to feast

Soldiers march in parades

Let me go outside to play mother’s face at window

Pained at time’s elapse

Father rounds the corner

Buzzards roost along the roof

Snakes crawl around like roots

This is how our weekends go

Just grab your socks

And don’t let go.

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Filed under American popular culture, poetry, prose poetry, works in progress

Poem: “Close Hands and Hear Me”, fr. notebooks, Jim Stallings

Close hands and hear me

Dust percolates in my veins

Snow melts by noon time

 

Was this enough poem

A scratch of wood ink paper

Or has my heart died?

 

New England winters

Demand fresh views of nature

But the blinds stay shut.

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Filed under poetry, prose poetry, works in progress

Poem: “The quiet fell around her”, fr. notebooks, Jim Stallings

The quiet fell around her

And the old love letters

Began to chatter

With sweet nothings

Entrapping a damsel

A virginal soul kept clean

Against the birthing sought

Like a giant sow

Her spinster aunt hissed

Dying in child birth

Her sister her favorite

A desperate fevered look

What do you think I did?

She shrieked at the uninitiated,

I ran and hid and cried

While my sister pure no more

Wallowed in blood and died.

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Poem: “Unburden Your Heart”, fr. notebooks, Jim Stallings

Unburden your heart

My proof of loyalty

Being mine ears

Bent head

And soldierly manner,

Grim recognition

Of horrors past

Now present in recall

This confessional

Brings through again

The story ellipsis

Of friendship interrupted.

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Filed under poetry, prose poetry, works in progress

Poem: “Satisfaction Guaranteed”, fr. notebooks, Jim Stallings

Satisfaction guaranteed

You lovers of fact

Picture the war

Victims at your feet

The smell of putrescence

Rotten flesh charred

Gaping mouths

Missing teeth

Then see yourself

Parade triumphant

Cheering patriots

Proud of your mass murder

Sanctifying the madness

Of spraying bullets

Into a dark hallway

Where women & children

Crouch praying for your death.

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Poem: “The Work Continues”, fr. notebooks, Jim Stallings

The work continues

In pit or mountain

The shovel or pick

In hands calloused

Today revive work

Resting till now

The future in our face

Begrimed by sweat

And cinder dirt

We pray for safety

As trains depart

And in our comrades

Loyalty in this struggle

For our meager daily bread.

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Poem: “You Know You’ll Hurt Me”, notebooks, Jim Stallings

You know you’ll hurt me

It’s a matter of time

Then I’ll go away

Crying my pain

Looking for allies

Who will come to my aid

And help make you suffer

At least as much?

Then we’ll kiss

And make up—

In front of witnesses

Who will watch

As we begin to play—

Again—

The cycle of pleasure & pain

Is our childish fun & games.

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Filed under poetry, prose poetry, works in progress