Quantcast

Posts Tagged: Rumpus Original Poems

National Poetry Month Day 18: “My Brother” by Carmen Gimenez Smith

By

My Brother

My brother _is__ a savior
who can torpedo
through privilege with an artistic stun gun
he’s a tempest saturating the city

He makes a scar
in the earth_ draws out
an admixture of folklore
and animus_ plus
a pinch of_ worry from our
adolescent miseries
so he can build_ endless
self-perpetuation_ literally
with big red bricks

This he does with
our so-called inheritance

We once walked
on our father’s periphery
looking in like_ the matchstick
children

We walked the edge of our houses
to find ___a warm window
Was it there
It wasn’t

the self-preservation__ that hunger
and fear __made of me
a bewitching hybrid of
broken coat trees and orbital
chair and door_ king_ choir
maybe _____that _elemental
cultivation
of fading into____ the wallpaper
We’re still looking
plush with hunger

My brother speaks
the cloud’s patois
a clatter ___calm ___medium        loosens
a grip wears
on the surface____ of his planet
I said anything
I walked far away
I left my brother behind

More tenderness
might have made us_____ better
failure without the sting

we might have found
magic and known
its transport

the instability was the brutal
______grief of one tornado

-Carmen Giménez Smith

...more

National Poetry Month Day 17: “The Mother In This Poem Is Me or You or Your Mother” by Wendy Chin-Tanner

By

The Mother In This Poem Is Me or You or Your Mother

mother is
a falling
star a bead

of sweat of
blood of bread
our daily

bread on which
we fed the
thread of life

the trouble
and strife of
he you wed

with heart and
head you pledged
in daddy’s

bed there is
no rest for
wickedness

lest evil eye
pry babe from
breast again

I rest my
case on wave
and wind hey

knight hey knave
come save me
blame me for

sin of rage
its wage so
high I am

both monster
and slave shame
me slay me

this is the
Labyrinth
where you play

Theseus
and I play
Minotaur

it’s okay
it’s just a
metaphor

-Wendy Chin-Tanner

...more

National Poetry Month Day 6: “The Early Minutes of Without” by Michael Klein

By

The Early Minutes of Without

You thought you were spared
falling in love with another drunk
now that you were sober and could feel
the ordinary grain that ran through everything.
You were awake in the great city and moved
among the civilians you couldn’t move among
before; structure time and dress for the weather.

...more