Prescription Strength Poetry: Samples

Prescription Strength Poetry

All copyrights of all creative works sampled belong to the individual creators. Written permission must be granted before use.

Sample by Michael G. Howell

Best Served Cold

Somewhere the slight return
Of a voodoo chile
Haunts the mind of a Christian,
Writhing in an agony so complete
That it has a name whispered
From unconscious lips.
Poetry burns in her eyes as
the reflection of a chronic lyricist
mirrors spoken words
like a sun that scorches the soil
of a lost planet that wandered far from its orbit.
Prayers for others become her
Ladder to god and drag her lips
Down in each corner.
Who prays for you? My eyes ask hers,
A tranquil green burns to a cesspool
Like comic book toxic waste.
Your battle-worn bible shield,
Tattered from our confrontations,
Is nothing more than particle board.
I used to sing love songs to you
But now you are worth little more
Than my momentary gaze.

Sample by Bridget Brown

On Not Flashing ( . Y . )

there was a time when three beers
or a whim
meant my boobs bounced freely
until i got cold
or my arms got tired.

but adulthood gave me shame
for my last birthday,
with a tag �to: you, from: me�
on the handle of a bright giftbag.
the card read hope you enjoy this body
consciousness. i picked it out special,
just for you. try it on.
didn�t provide a gift receipt
and target wouldn�t give me store credit,
so i had to keep it.

i tried to recycle the gift
like fruitcake,
pass it on to someone i pretended to like.
seems shame�s more like an STD
i could give it to others
but still had to keep it.

I couldn�t kick it, and though
body consciousness didn�t ruin my life,
it does have consequences,
and when other shirts flew up,
mine stayed down.

Sample by Thrower

The Educated Bums

The tin-guns of the people are silenced
at the hands of aw, fuck it.
             All that wiring we don�t understand
             even though we went to college.

Through those thinnest grins continued
all the hiding, rent-scared and wine-drunk.
             Never really was that Kobra Kai;
             just don�t bother, no hurry, backburner stuff.

Wind jumps through the screen window,
sneaks in friends through a hole, in the bathroom floor,
             we have learned to ignore with grace
             in our pee-stance at the bowl.

Roomate�s refrigerator poem says:
Come on destitution! Festive with government checks, I guess...
             Warm sixes of Pabst Blue Ribbon
             plastic bottled vodka in used soda cups.

The answers fall out of mouths reclined on beer-breath and bad posture

watching Jeopardy, too lazy to get up and turn the channel.

Sample by Thrower

An Actor in Astoria, Queens (with Mr. Ruppel in mind)

Spinning drunk in a NY room he was
fresh from small places with bigness
not like this
shit-hole, what he called it,
smiling. I could tell, even long-distance.
C-sharp-ring like a hand-bell, an organ
all a-pulse, alive.
A city of characters speaking their lines
through to the wood-grain and the bare
brick wall there,
in a squat roomful of the melancholy
odors of all this baggage-- those bodies.

Sample by Nikki Trokey

chunky

apparently, i�m not fat.
at least, not to paige,
jc penney salesgirl of the month.
through paige�s eyes,
i�m not �chubby�
or �round�
or �plump�
or �curvy�
or �heavy.�
i�m not even �thick.�

nope. it seems
i am decidedly
�chunky.�
thank you, paige.

chunky: cold, condensed
cream soup as it plops
out of the can
and into the bowl.

chunky is drunken vomit
of half-digested
green beans and spaghetti
and the splash
as it hits toilet water.

oh that looks fab!
those tailored button-downs
work so great
on chunky girls.

chunky is rotten milk
and sewer water
and peanut butter
and diarrhea
and salsa.
chunky is the world�s worst
yeast infection.

and i wish paige
all the chunky
in the world.

All copyrights of all creative works sampled belong to the individual creators. Written permission must be granted before use.

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