Postcard Poetry: Day 5

Translation:
_____

With an arm full of empty beer cans

I take out the recycling to find
new graffiti on the side of
my building. A tall man
painted bright green is saying
something -- I look at his speech
bubble but the writing is too
curly and warped. I wonder
about the artist that wandered
down our alley. Did he find
other treasures? A broken down
Canadian Mist box, a discarded
McCafe cup, shiny wooden shelves
with no home? I think the green
man is saying "Wake up!" /
_____

jb

Postcard Poetry: Day 4

Translation:

_____

Peligro Abejas

On today's jog all things

join me in harmonic movement.

Feet tap-tapping, bicycle spokes

clicking, baby in stroller

crying, motorcycle whirring,

ambulance shrieking, Fido

yapping, sweat drip-dripping,

bell (ting!) -- muscles and

breathing, heightening, vib-

rating, a roaring symphony --

at home, remove shoes, shirt, 

forward bend, downward dog, 

child's pose, silence. /

_____

jb

Postcard Poetry: Day 3

First vertical painting in the series, inspired by Logic, as my boyfriend and I have been making music in the program. I love the way the little boxes all go together to make a song! Such a simple, cool thing.

Close-up of the poem:

 

Translation:
_____

Still Born

Sometimes when I'm washing dishes
words start to assemble in my
head. They shift and shuffle,
settle in, my hands emprisoned
by yellow gloves. I freeze and
repeat lines, try to birth them
run for paper, a napkin, a
receipt for groceries, run back to
the sink where I made love to
my words. Sometimes they are
there at my fingertips, in ink.
Other times they are lost, the
memory of a love that could
have moved, breathed.
_____

And now, I realize I misspelled "emprisoned", and it should be "imprisoned". One reason I'm really loving this project is that the urgency is first, you MUST put a postcard in the mail each day. So, I am forced to let go of the perfection aspect, which is an empowering lesson in itself. I will probably never misspell "imprisoned" again. Lesson learned. :)

jb

Postcard Poetry: Day 2

The front:

The back:

Close-up of poem:

Translation:
_____

Once Upon A Time

I would die before touching
my tongue to a vegetable.
At Christmas I gagged over
fried okra my Aunt made --
she cried. Now I eye eggplant
seductively, choose smooth
zucchini over hot dogs, salivate
over spinach enchiladas.
I dream of sleeping on a bed
of plump tomatoes, a vegetable
princess, broccoli crown, carrot
necklace, squash sprouting
from the soil of my body.

_____

jb

Postcard Poetry: Day 1

Postcard Poetry starts today, in which every day through August I'll send a postcard with a poem to another poet on the list. I am very excited about this project! It is my first time participating in anything like this, and I'm really ready to write a poem a day (no matter how rough it may be). I purchased blank watercolor postcards that I'm painting, just to add a little more of a personal touch. I'll be posting one a day. I'm actually supposed to do 3 today and mail them, but I have to go buy more stamps! So for now, here's #1 of the Postcard Poetry Challenge.

Close up of the poem:

And if my handwriting is bad, translation:

_____

Attack

As I was soaking up

beautifully scorching drops

from our shared shower head, I hear a noise --

I snap! -- ready for an intruder

I think of the coffee mug holding our toothbrushes,

how I would launch it with icy precision at a strange eyebrow

blood pouring, steam rising from my naked skin, heavy breaths --

I realize how strong I am, how savagely I will fight.

If you are living / I cannot die.

______

Thoughts: I can't fit as many words as I thought on the postcards! Eeek.

Check back for more words and watercolor.

jb