Submissions by patrickbirdener (Patrick Birdener)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Hmmmmmmmm...
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
12th Apr 2022 5:19am
12th Apr 2022 5:19am
Um...maybe a bad idea...
This is probably a kind of shitty idea.
A perpetual stranger comes along again,
and what does he do? --He posts a plug. Oh, not for one of his books...
It's his mother's.
Oh, it's not that new. At the end of earning her PhD,
she switched her dissertation topic to how people often spend their final years,
and then wrote a book around it. I told her how hard it can be to sell self-published work online without advertising, but she...
A perpetual stranger comes along again,
and what does he do? --He posts a plug. Oh, not for one of his books...
It's his mother's.
Oh, it's not that new. At the end of earning her PhD,
she switched her dissertation topic to how people often spend their final years,
and then wrote a book around it. I told her how hard it can be to sell self-published work online without advertising, but she...
#love
#books
424 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
30th Mar 2022 5:23am
30th Mar 2022 5:23am
Armchair naturalist
I am sadly considering
luring some of my ant sisters
closer to where my newest eight-legged roommate,
the size of quarter,
lies in wait.
luring some of my ant sisters
closer to where my newest eight-legged roommate,
the size of quarter,
lies in wait.
#LifeCycle
312 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
30th Mar 2022 5:14am
30th Mar 2022 5:14am
I don't come around here much.
Saturday, 12/26/2020
Knees-drawn-up doubt
Hollow out the world, and what do you find?
The blue light lives in me.
So what?
The hollow lives in me as well.
The world goes nowhere.
The world always went nowhere, but was still
moving
and beautiful.
Now it just goes nowhere. I wept
years for the beauty years ago,
returned years later to the desolation
years ago.
Now it is just passed.
But all the world’s inner beauty gone,
the light’s inner...
Knees-drawn-up doubt
Hollow out the world, and what do you find?
The blue light lives in me.
So what?
The hollow lives in me as well.
The world goes nowhere.
The world always went nowhere, but was still
moving
and beautiful.
Now it just goes nowhere. I wept
years for the beauty years ago,
returned years later to the desolation
years ago.
Now it is just passed.
But all the world’s inner beauty gone,
the light’s inner...
#LifeAsAWriter
250 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
9th Oct 2016 5:08am
9th Oct 2016 5:08am
LedgeLife, Like a Bitter Cup of Tea (Copyright 2008)
--Oh, that does take me back. It’s like—
It’s like the first time you stand on that ledge,
Thinking you’re ready to plunge,
Or pull that cool blade across your throat,
Thinking, “Oh, for the strength, oh for the strength, Lord,”
To make that swift, clean cut, pass that holy threshold
That you dare not pass.
--But not this time.
Maybe tomorrow.
Your date with sweet Fate will just have to wait. For now you’ll
Catch your breath,
Catch a movie,
Catch some sun—
You take a walk,
See the world outside,
See the world inside,...
It’s like the first time you stand on that ledge,
Thinking you’re ready to plunge,
Or pull that cool blade across your throat,
Thinking, “Oh, for the strength, oh for the strength, Lord,”
To make that swift, clean cut, pass that holy threshold
That you dare not pass.
--But not this time.
Maybe tomorrow.
Your date with sweet Fate will just have to wait. For now you’ll
Catch your breath,
Catch a movie,
Catch some sun—
You take a walk,
See the world outside,
See the world inside,...
831 reads
5 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
9th Oct 2016 4:54am
9th Oct 2016 4:54am
.../.../.../.../.../...,...,.../
The world is a cold, crappy place, complete
With toilet, tub, and sink, sinking
Down its own drain.
Life is old and wide, but somehow
Still shallow, a constant parade
For ancient cliché.
The Soul is different than the Self.
While the Soul still needs a master,
The Self must master itself, or fall,
And have fragments for masters.
You have heard,
“To have two masters is madness?”
--Was a man with seven masters.
Six of them were in himself.
With toilet, tub, and sink, sinking
Down its own drain.
Life is old and wide, but somehow
Still shallow, a constant parade
For ancient cliché.
The Soul is different than the Self.
While the Soul still needs a master,
The Self must master itself, or fall,
And have fragments for masters.
You have heard,
“To have two masters is madness?”
--Was a man with seven masters.
Six of them were in himself.
682 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
11th Jun 2016 6:54am
11th Jun 2016 6:54am
From Summer/Autumn 2009 IV
Said the caffeine dependent obsessive compulsive
to himself
But I don’t wanna be naked
And making my rounds in a room second floor,
Bare window blocked only by
A broadly branching tree, screaming
Children on the ground.
But this is a happily leaping demon
I allow, so I can list my
Singing angel muse,
Though she weep a lazy day.
…Push, shove. Give, take.
Your picture goes far beyond a mirror, but my piece is
...
to himself
But I don’t wanna be naked
And making my rounds in a room second floor,
Bare window blocked only by
A broadly branching tree, screaming
Children on the ground.
But this is a happily leaping demon
I allow, so I can list my
Singing angel muse,
Though she weep a lazy day.
…Push, shove. Give, take.
Your picture goes far beyond a mirror, but my piece is
...
#confessional
#LifeAsAWriter
#OCD
#myself
#SelfReflection
751 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
11th Jun 2016 6:51am
11th Jun 2016 6:51am
From Summer/Autumn 2009 III
Meet and greet and eat and drink. Rig a
Wish, and watch the
Sighs.
Listen laughter likes itself, hates its
Awkward cousin
Coming out. Stand up. Make a
Man. Take a woman
For a hand walk. The wick is burning.
I’m spending my candle, and still
I ask:
When two dynamite minds
Collide,
...
Wish, and watch the
Sighs.
Listen laughter likes itself, hates its
Awkward cousin
Coming out. Stand up. Make a
Man. Take a woman
For a hand walk. The wick is burning.
I’m spending my candle, and still
I ask:
When two dynamite minds
Collide,
...
686 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
23rd May 2016 7:59am
23rd May 2016 7:59am
Summer 2009 II
Life in the click of a locking door—
Cold static bliss in the bereavement of meaning,
Bidding farewell to the moment, embarking on eternity
Naked and eating potato chips,
Pushing past salt-swollen lips in blue light in one of suburbia’s
Lost rooms,
Polished off with Spanish olives. You’ll eat from this jar
‘Till you sleep.
Pimiento e n ded
G r e e n
Cold static bliss in the bereavement of meaning,
Bidding farewell to the moment, embarking on eternity
Naked and eating potato chips,
Pushing past salt-swollen lips in blue light in one of suburbia’s
Lost rooms,
Polished off with Spanish olives. You’ll eat from this jar
‘Till you sleep.
Pimiento e n ded
G r e e n
667 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
23rd May 2016 7:57am
23rd May 2016 7:57am
Summer 2009 I
Oh, pardon me, if you will. True, I have posted this before, recently. But it has been suggested that I might consider putting my recent "From Summer/Autumn 2009" etc. chunks into smaller chunks for more companionable reading. Well, after a little time and consideration, I've decided I will do that. Oh, I'm making an ass of myself. Well, mock me if you will.
Blades of grass that
Must have been people whipped at the fence posts,
And standing up—a reflection of cloud in a windshield
Smiled at me.
Sitting still, shadows...
Blades of grass that
Must have been people whipped at the fence posts,
And standing up—a reflection of cloud in a windshield
Smiled at me.
Sitting still, shadows...
678 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
7th May 2016 8:28am
7th May 2016 8:28am
Echoes
Note: There are pieces in this book which I have recently published here, and pieces I published here a longer while ago, as well as some pieces I've never, to my recollection, published here. That may bore some, or many readers. But I am saying different things with them than I did before, by the way I have ordered them, as well as with some slight changes in capitalization of letters.
Well, without further adieu, here is "Echoes".
Copyright
2016
Echoes
I
...
Well, without further adieu, here is "Echoes".
Copyright
2016
Echoes
I
...
1406 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
5th May 2016 7:05am
5th May 2016 7:05am
chapbook multi-purpose macaroni (spring, 2012)
Copyright
2012
multi-purpose macaroni
walking in the rain,
remembering grade school days,
and dreaming up another hill to slide.
*
maple trees are losing babies.
maybe i won’t make it home.
*
walking in my Sunday grungies,
nowhere in particular.
the liquor store was next.
*
thirty-first birthday candle
and a spoon, i’ll be a dead beat...
2012
multi-purpose macaroni
walking in the rain,
remembering grade school days,
and dreaming up another hill to slide.
*
maple trees are losing babies.
maybe i won’t make it home.
*
walking in my Sunday grungies,
nowhere in particular.
the liquor store was next.
*
thirty-first birthday candle
and a spoon, i’ll be a dead beat...
735 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
30th Apr 2016 5:38am
30th Apr 2016 5:38am
if poets die young...chapbook of poems, spring, 2012
Note: With this chapbook, I was partly responding to a negative review of my previous chapbook, Shoulder. Shrug.", and partly contemplating on a line in a book of poems I'd read, that said, "Poets die young". (I am not trying to put myself up here. It's simply that I've often been either quiet or drunk here in the past, and I feel like being more soberly open right now.)
Copyright
2012
...
Copyright
2012
...
870 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by patrickbirdener (Patrick Birdener)
