Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Barry Schwam

The moon is
summer, but..


The moon is summer, but..
The moon is nothing

Bunches of gibberish madmen
faces stuck together with
summered yellow wax.

The moon is a summer field
of yellow dusty roses,
stinking, lonely, in deep
dark depression.

A cave of water, dripping,
southern comfort, old howl
Tunes of a broken sailor

Rhapsody singing, Dead
harmony Rhyming, glory

Emancipated slaves
in a country feathered
with flags waving, soldiers
marching, parades
tending to the feet.

Johns and prostitutes plenty
set wavering, joints to
creak, Bones to break
in luxury, sending hungry genius poets
into pork pie.

6 comments:

  1. Fantastic piece! So many strong images and great sounds. The two opening lines and the lines stanza especially, "set wavering, joints to / creak, Bones to break."

    Thanks for sharing!

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  2. I meant to say the two opening lines and the last stanza especially, "set wavering, joints to / creak, Bones to break" where my favorite parts.

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  3. from Mary Torregrossa: The moon brings out the "old howl" and lunacy all of us feel at one time or another. I like the line especaill, a country feathered with flags waving." Some lines pop but others need a tighter structure on which to hang. A very kool poem.

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  4. from Michelle Angelini: There are so many strong and contrasing images in this poem. It's somewhat dark and I get the feeling of disbelief in the lines.

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  5. Excellent imagination. Good structure

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  6. from Jack Bowman: I vote for entrant number 3

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