The Poetry Vending Machine in the news today, courtesy of a nice little spotlight for J. Bradley's last Broken Speech face-off between myself and Curtis Meyer. Seth Kubersky makes mention of the "cherished" ode to cheese that was written for him and his girl last month in his Live Active Cultures column of the Orlando Weekly.
This would, uh ... this would really be a good time to post that poem up here, huh?
Yep.
I hate my laptop.
Showing posts with label curtis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label curtis. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Senryus and Limericks
Popcorn Haiku
Buttery popcorn
Kernels stuck in my molars
Just like our lost love
Breakdancing Haiku
Poppin' and lockin'
B-Boy's legs spin in orbit
The crowd stares in awe
Gyro Haiku
Stomach in distress
I hunger for something Greek
I need a gyro
Flock
The vulture comes sooner than the dove
Longing in great circles high above
Its breath held for terms
Early birds get worms
Death arrives on wings faster than love
by Curtis
--
All Curtis all the time for awhile, as promised. I'd been meaning to start posting some of the many haikus and senryus we did anyway.
This was an option we'd give the cheapskates periodically: $1 for a haiku, full poem for $5. I don't know about anyone else, but I actually found them harder to do. With a full poem, the customer goes away and leaves you alone for awhile to write it. With these, they were usually sitting right there waiting for it because come on, it's only 17 syllables and they've got places to be and bathrobe boys to ogle. My haiku almost universally sucked.
Buttery popcorn
Kernels stuck in my molars
Just like our lost love
Breakdancing Haiku
Poppin' and lockin'
B-Boy's legs spin in orbit
The crowd stares in awe
Gyro Haiku
Stomach in distress
I hunger for something Greek
I need a gyro
Flock
The vulture comes sooner than the dove
Longing in great circles high above
Its breath held for terms
Early birds get worms
Death arrives on wings faster than love
by Curtis
--
All Curtis all the time for awhile, as promised. I'd been meaning to start posting some of the many haikus and senryus we did anyway.
This was an option we'd give the cheapskates periodically: $1 for a haiku, full poem for $5. I don't know about anyone else, but I actually found them harder to do. With a full poem, the customer goes away and leaves you alone for awhile to write it. With these, they were usually sitting right there waiting for it because come on, it's only 17 syllables and they've got places to be and bathrobe boys to ogle. My haiku almost universally sucked.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Converting Oedipus
It was a Scrabble game that started it:
Pops put down the squares for DANDLE
Junior refuted
It means to pet or fondle, the old man insisted
The Hell it does, replied his seed, and just like that
he burst from his chair like a furious orca
trying to catch the sun in its teeth and darted
over to the bookshelf for a dictionary
The old man sighing so loudly, his breath
could practically be seen leaving
his mouth as steam
Soon the son's fingers flipped the pages
family's 1986 edition of Webster's
in a motion that could only be recognized as robotic
Countering his son's precipitous machination, the old man
reached for the 1871 Oxford (Letters A - M),
placed the gold-paged brick down on the table
next to the board with a mighty thud, found
the "DA" section and pointed down to the
definition with all the authority of a Greek god
This is why you choose your dictionary beforehand
he told his young novice, And don't you forget
who's king in this household.
The son sulked, returned to his chair,
countered with,
LAZURITE.
by Curtis
--
From the author's own notes:
This poem was written for a customer named Vicki at the "Poetry Vending Machine" at the Orlando Fringe Festival 2008. Per request, I wrote Vicki a poem with the words "dandle," precipitous," and "machination" included within the text under her chosen title "Converting Oedipus."
Words like these and it's NOT an Anna poem? Damn. Lazurite, by the way, is a rare bluish gem and/or the most professorial word that any poet's used at the Vending Machine without being mandated to do so. Look at the big brain on Curtis.
Pops put down the squares for DANDLE
Junior refuted
It means to pet or fondle, the old man insisted
The Hell it does, replied his seed, and just like that
he burst from his chair like a furious orca
trying to catch the sun in its teeth and darted
over to the bookshelf for a dictionary
The old man sighing so loudly, his breath
could practically be seen leaving
his mouth as steam
Soon the son's fingers flipped the pages
family's 1986 edition of Webster's
in a motion that could only be recognized as robotic
Countering his son's precipitous machination, the old man
reached for the 1871 Oxford (Letters A - M),
placed the gold-paged brick down on the table
next to the board with a mighty thud, found
the "DA" section and pointed down to the
definition with all the authority of a Greek god
This is why you choose your dictionary beforehand
he told his young novice, And don't you forget
who's king in this household.
The son sulked, returned to his chair,
countered with,
LAZURITE.
by Curtis
--
From the author's own notes:
This poem was written for a customer named Vicki at the "Poetry Vending Machine" at the Orlando Fringe Festival 2008. Per request, I wrote Vicki a poem with the words "dandle," precipitous," and "machination" included within the text under her chosen title "Converting Oedipus."
Words like these and it's NOT an Anna poem? Damn. Lazurite, by the way, is a rare bluish gem and/or the most professorial word that any poet's used at the Vending Machine without being mandated to do so. Look at the big brain on Curtis.
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