Submissions by patrickbirdener (Patrick Birdener)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Hmmmmmmmm...
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
26th Jul 2014 3:59am
26th Jul 2014 3:59am
odd old miscellaneum from a time of passive searching (what the hell?)
Shouldn’t have bothered.
No bother.
hidden in an enclave,
fresh cool breeze,
seagulls,
cries.
Stairwell worries.
Whole lot of moments.
This is the star of the shadows.
The shoulder of the water falling
ignores the growing rolling sensation.
You have prospered
since I’ve been gone.
Light this.
Cut that.
Sit here.
Ponder there.
I am finding nothing works.
Exhale.
Exit care.
This is what happens when someone
who could really be a character in a story
--the insane one...
No bother.
hidden in an enclave,
fresh cool breeze,
seagulls,
cries.
Stairwell worries.
Whole lot of moments.
This is the star of the shadows.
The shoulder of the water falling
ignores the growing rolling sensation.
You have prospered
since I’ve been gone.
Light this.
Cut that.
Sit here.
Ponder there.
I am finding nothing works.
Exhale.
Exit care.
This is what happens when someone
who could really be a character in a story
--the insane one...
627 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
13th Jul 2014 5:41am
13th Jul 2014 5:41am
another old(ish) "sid" poem...
life-long dead, nothing to say.
he’d guarded corners at parties years ago.
his cousin wanted to catch up on the last few dead years,
and he tried his best to speak, but couldn’t stop focusing on
the blank wall next to his cousin.
so he stood around, a ghost.
he helped the host.
he guarded the coffee.
“it’s Strong, French Roast,” she said.
he wanted some coffee.
careful how much he took from the living, he allowed himself half a cup.
and another half a cup. and as he drank
he realized
he liked the cheap instant stuff better.
he’d guarded corners at parties years ago.
his cousin wanted to catch up on the last few dead years,
and he tried his best to speak, but couldn’t stop focusing on
the blank wall next to his cousin.
so he stood around, a ghost.
he helped the host.
he guarded the coffee.
“it’s Strong, French Roast,” she said.
he wanted some coffee.
careful how much he took from the living, he allowed himself half a cup.
and another half a cup. and as he drank
he realized
he liked the cheap instant stuff better.
607 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
13th Jul 2014 5:38am
13th Jul 2014 5:38am
old poem from an old chabbook now hopefully defunct...
(i did post this here once before. i gave it a bad introduction. well, here it is again, with no introduction save this.)
i saw her shoot a few men from the back of a big car.
somehow the bright white seats remained completely clean.
then we both left the car to enter her house.
i met her little daughter while she reached into the fridge.
but when she offered me food, i had to leave.
she said she’d made some Klondike bars for me,
and i told myself, “that’s it. it’s time to wake up now.”
but when i did, i wondered why. i really
should have stayed...
i saw her shoot a few men from the back of a big car.
somehow the bright white seats remained completely clean.
then we both left the car to enter her house.
i met her little daughter while she reached into the fridge.
but when she offered me food, i had to leave.
she said she’d made some Klondike bars for me,
and i told myself, “that’s it. it’s time to wake up now.”
but when i did, i wondered why. i really
should have stayed...
690 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
20th Jun 2014 6:03am
20th Jun 2014 6:03am
A Chapbook Called "June, I Suppose."
(I put a couple of these pieces up here recently. Well, i'll put them here again, as part of this, which i'd already pretty much written when i put them up here. They're all pretty short pieces, with no titles, separated by "..." One of them begins with just a colloge of words. You'll probably be able to guess which one. Actually i might keep editing this thing as a work-in-progress yet. But i'll post what i have of it now.)
...
June, I suppose.
...
...
June, I suppose.
...
586 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
8th Jun 2014 6:35am
8th Jun 2014 6:35am
what the hell are you doing
! riding jack down the hill.
639 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
8th Jun 2014 6:32am
8th Jun 2014 6:32am
syllables...
june, i suppose
686 reads
6 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
7th Jun 2014 5:24am
7th Jun 2014 5:24am
aliens
i am alien to you.
you laugh.
you are alien to me.
i sigh.
you laugh.
you are alien to me.
i sigh.
1039 reads
7 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
20th Apr 2014 8:06am
20th Apr 2014 8:06am
a generalization. the poet at 23. whimsical requiem# ? ...
It is pointless, so I’ll
play with smiling, childlike voices
and vulgar mundanities:
the lip of the toilet pulls at my leg hair
sometimes.
Write a poem for a toe nail.
Write a poem on a toe nail.
Now that’s devotion.
We are fading through clippings.
But of course we’re always doing that,
Charlie.
Poets generically reach through their hearts,
pulling out oil or blood,
reach through the sky, pull down the sun
or the moon or the stars,
rattling heaven.
There has never been anything really to...
play with smiling, childlike voices
and vulgar mundanities:
the lip of the toilet pulls at my leg hair
sometimes.
Write a poem for a toe nail.
Write a poem on a toe nail.
Now that’s devotion.
We are fading through clippings.
But of course we’re always doing that,
Charlie.
Poets generically reach through their hearts,
pulling out oil or blood,
reach through the sky, pull down the sun
or the moon or the stars,
rattling heaven.
There has never been anything really to...
784 reads
6 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
18th Apr 2014 9:45am
18th Apr 2014 9:45am
...hop/skip...hop/skip...hop/skip...
.
.
..
.
..
.
..
.
a day is a poem.
hop/skip...
i'm writing a new book.
hop/skip...
i'm calling it the sky.
...
.
..
.
..
.
..
.
a day is a poem.
hop/skip...
i'm writing a new book.
hop/skip...
i'm calling it the sky.
...
666 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
16th Mar 2014 11:59pm
16th Mar 2014 11:59pm
the staying youth
the "society of my soul"
will always remain here among the sad sweet lilies,
where it grew to know the whispers in the breeze
as friends, and fell in love.
call it folly if you will, and i'll still watch
the tides ride the times--
but that's an ocean of syndication all its own.
and i'll still learn from pain and age, but i won't let it
cage me on a rainy day down in my valley.
will always remain here among the sad sweet lilies,
where it grew to know the whispers in the breeze
as friends, and fell in love.
call it folly if you will, and i'll still watch
the tides ride the times--
but that's an ocean of syndication all its own.
and i'll still learn from pain and age, but i won't let it
cage me on a rainy day down in my valley.
626 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
16th Mar 2014 7:27am
16th Mar 2014 7:27am
old "sid" close to bones...
they met in high school orcherstra class his junior year.
after a brief exchange she told him
“You Suck!”
and he fell in love.
she was a free spirit, a flurry of shattered glass.
two years they barely spoke,
but she softened so much to admire his cello.
“So Shiny!”
a field trip/concert a month before his graduation,
she noticed his loneliness, and they spoke.
he was getting a job at speedway.
she drove a truck.
he didn’t drive.
he was getting a chapbook published,
“Thoughts,” he was calling it.
“That’s cool.”
(the...
after a brief exchange she told him
“You Suck!”
and he fell in love.
she was a free spirit, a flurry of shattered glass.
two years they barely spoke,
but she softened so much to admire his cello.
“So Shiny!”
a field trip/concert a month before his graduation,
she noticed his loneliness, and they spoke.
he was getting a job at speedway.
she drove a truck.
he didn’t drive.
he was getting a chapbook published,
“Thoughts,” he was calling it.
“That’s cool.”
(the...
548 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
14th Dec 2013 00:56am
14th Dec 2013 00:56am
Shoulder. Shrug. 15
poor girl,
wants to wade into the pool
a rich boy drowns in,
and drown.
wants to wade into the pool
a rich boy drowns in,
and drown.
581 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by patrickbirdener (Patrick Birdener)
