Postcard Poetry: Day 21

Translation:

_____

With Vodka

This morning I wanted to add

vodka to my cereal, but 

didn't. An hour later, 

helping customers find plate

settings for twelve, I wished

I had drank the vodka.

One woman who couldn't find

her coupon (but was in a

"giant rush") said I looked

calm in the face of adversity.

I calmly told her to go to

hell, and walked right out.

That didn't happen, but it

could have, with vodka. /

_____

jb

Postcard Poetry: Day 20

Gotten a tad behind. But I'm trucking on. Enjoy!

Translation:
_____

Lunch Love

I never thought I'd enjoy
packing lunches. While
preparing your sandwich I
think of you at work, pausing
one reverent moment to chew,
smiling at the hot sauce
surprise. I slice pineapple,
wash grapes, sprinkle nuts
and craisins over fresh
lettuce. I love feeding you,
fuel for your body from
these two hands. /
_____

jb

Postcard Poetry: Day 19

Translation:
_____

Snapshot.

A man & wife with a baby
in tow asked me to take
their picture on the sidewalk.
I framed them perfectly
in the camera's eye, magenta
flowers shining pink/purple
light on their faces. "One
more?" they say, so I turn
the camera to take a vertical
shot. They say "ooh." I tell
them I love perspective, squat
down to capture their lovely
shadows lengthening. /
_____

jb

Postcard Poetry: Day 18

Translation:
_____

Watercolor, like me

Watercolor is lovely because
it's imperfect. A brush-full
of crimson paint bleeds on
wet paper, seeps to bended
corners, the art of gravity.
You will not last forever,
watercolor. Rain makes your
colors cry, sun exposure
fades your once-vibrant hues.
Your paper will be eaten with
tears and holes. You will join me,
my body, in the dirt. The
beauty is that together we lived. /
_____

jb

Postcard Poetry: Day 17

Translation:
_____

On today's walk I see

A girl in a Dodgers hat
lighting up a cigarette
while riding a bike.
Two sisters hold hands
while watching a neighbor
struggle up her front
steps. Squirrel crossing the
road looks like a bouncing
brown ribbon dancer. My
lunchtime beer served in a
tall wine glass, "Brown
Sugar" on the jukebox. /
_____

jb

-- Project is more than halfway over. Time is flying, y'all.

Postcard Poetry: Day 16

Translation:
_____

Full

I cannot stop collecting jars.
An emptied salsa jar holds
my unworn necklaces.
I bought tequila in a cobalt
bottle, drank it quickly and
gave it a home in my
kitchen window. An empty
relish jar now holds string,
wine corks, mismatched
buttons. I find things empty
and I fill them up. Bamboo
growing in an old peanut can. /
_____

jb

Postcard Poetry: Day 15

Translation:

_____

Once when I was drunk at

a family court charity

event, a judge asked me

my favorite animal. I say

tiger. What is my second fav-

orite? Monkey. He tells me

I am the first animal, my

ideal lover the second. 

One Cuba Libre later he taps

me on the shoulder, reveals

a banana. No thank you,

I say, fangs glinting. Hiss.

Too much potassium, not

enough blood. /

_____

jb

Postcard Poetry: Day 14

Okay, I'm behind/ahead. I was ahead, and now I'm behind my ahead, so I'm basically on track. I'm posting one this morning (that I wrote and mailed yesterday), and I will do my best to post another one today. I will definitely write and send one, but I'm just getting behind on the actual posting it to you. (Therefore, one could argue that I'm not behind at all!) So, here's Day 14.

Translation:
_____

Turmeric, Magic

You are brown/orange
and hypnotic. I want
to sprinkle you into
soup and drip you down
my throat. I want to
cake you over my skin
like clay while I glow
golden under a blood-
red gown. Stain
my smooth arms & legs,
forehead, wide open palms.
_____

jb

Postcard Poetry: Day 13

Lucky day thirteen! Day 13 was actually yesterday, but I didn't post it. So today you'll get two. Day 13 now, and day 14 later in the day. For now, enjoy 13. :)

Translation: 

_____

Tell me a story:

of when you

were young. Even one day

younger will do -- a story 

of you from yesterday. 

How did you walk; what

did you eat; what shirt

were you wearing; how

many times did you smile?

Did you learn a new word,

name or face? Did you touch 

your toes; did you brush your

hair or a lover's hand? Let's

not forget the story of ourselves. /

_____

Note: Day 13 essentially got two poems, since the front of the postcard has a very simple ode poem on the front. Here's the translation of that, if you can't read it...

Ode

To sleeping in late. / To fun. / To pineapples.

To old, soft sweatshirts. / To lips that kiss. / To

mistakes. / To different views. / To garlic. / To

fuzzy socks. / To pens. / To you.

To drinking tequila. / 2 the

strength of hands. / To 

purple. / To my love. / 

To breasts. / To life. / To the 

new car-smell. / To the new baby

smell. / To books and book-

cases. / To dirt. / 

To: ______________.

Postcard Poetry: Day 12

Translation:
_____

Miami Skyline

Neon sky at sunset, you
brought all of us to life.
Fluorescent pinks cling
to unsuspecting buildings.
Glass skyscrapers reflect
the glittering city below.
My friends and I share
stories, pulse together.
Cabernet guzzles tinting
our teeth a lovely purple,
to match the clouds. /
_____

jb

Postcard Poetry: Day 11

Translation:
_____

Once in a Blue Muse

You bring me a bowl of blueberries
and dark chocolate. This
is what sweetness tastes like.
I dream of lying in a darkened
cemetery, bare arms & legs
on cool concrete slabs,
hand gripping the
handle of an axe -- fear.
My sister and I pretend to be
mermaids in blue water, under
blue sky. Oh blue, you take
many forms -- ripe, icy, supple,
clear. /

_____

Note: I received a postcard with the title "Once in a Blue Muse", which inspired this poem. I will start posting the postcards I received soon. So far I have received four lovely postcards! I have to say this project is getting much more rewarding the longer it goes on, and it really helps to be getting poems in the mail. Thanks to all for reading, too; it is really most appreciated. :) Happy Friday!

jb

Postcard Poetry: Day 10

Translation:

_____

Overheard Conversations on a Solo Lunch

-- I talked to Brad about how 

    all this technology is ruining

    our relationship. -- 

-- She didn't like my religion.

   -- Which is...?

-- Atheist. 

   -- So what do you worship?

       Darwin?

-- No. Nothing.

-- Who invented the atom bomb?

   -- The Nazis?

-- Let's get tea.

-- My palak paneer is cold. 

_____

jb

Postcard Poetry: Day 9

Hi all. Not sure if anyone noticed except CAS, but I didn't post a postcard yesterday! No worries, I did write a poem, take pics and mail it, but the posting on the blog did not happen then. So today you get 9 and 10. What a treat! Here goes:

Translation:

_____

Dirty

Cockroaches -- if you see one,

there are likely thousands 

more in the dark spaces

between your walls. Hundreds

of crunchy, invincible insects

now haunt my sleep; I imagine

six bugs crawling inside

the pair of jeans on the

floor. Something runs along 

my leg in bed -- I scream

"cockroach!" -- but it is only

my pillowcase unraveling.

_____

jb

Postcard Poetry: Day 8

Translation:

_____

I crossed paths with

a jagged glass vase, blood

seeped through to my skin's 

surface, instinctually the 

bleeding thumb went to 

my mouth. I calm myself

by licking my own
wounds. A cat -- I purr
to my red, dripping thumb.
Hours later, a tiny red x
marks the spot of the jag-
ged glass. My skin, a treasure
map, my body, the earth. /
_____

And now, after dropping the postcard in the mail, I say, oh, "instintually" is not a word; I meant "instinctively". Oh well. I really did work 8 hours of manual labor today, cutting myself deeply once and not so deeply several other times. Luckily I'm too tired to badger myself about my mistake. Sorry, recipient, for the bad grammar! :)

jb

Postcard Poetry: Day 7

Translation:

_____

I wanted to write an ode 

To an omelette, but my

brunch spot was closed. 

Instead I walked to buy

some plants -- sweet basil, 

heirloom tomato, taxi tomato, 

cilantro. I line them up on 

the stairs that I climb to

enter my apartment. I have

no pots to re-plant them.

I swat a mosquito from my 

tricep -- "Don't suck MY blood!"

He says, "Hey, we all gotta 

eat," and he flies off. Now

I sing of the food chain. /

_____

jb

Postcard Poetry: Day 6

Sorry about the later post today. The mail doesn't run on Sundays, so I took my time putting my new postcard out into the universe. Plus Mark's only day off is today, so we cooked a yummy breakfast of blueberry/chocolate pancakes and thick maple bacon. It's making me hungry just thinking about it. Without fail, here's Day 6's postcard/poem.

Translation:
_____

Me-ow, evil kitty

Follow through, little <(meow) kitty. Finish
your possibly okay (or maybe
pretty awful) short story. Start
a crafty project and finish
it. Hey girl with a thousand
ideas and not a single <(meow!)
perfect poem to show for it:
What are you afraid of,
little one, you; me? Take a bite.
Now another. Eat the elephant
one chewy gray piece at a
time. Don't leave your
sentences half
_____

jb <(meow)