April 8, 2009

• ElectricPoetry: National Poetry Month

  

  “Emergence”
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  4/8/09 7:00 a.m. pdt

  Nervous anticipatory gestures
  Foot wigglings
  Short breaths
  Mindgames in the head

  Excising senses of dread

  Fusilades of feelings
  Antic meandering mania
  Completely erratic
  Becoming awake and aware

  Gulps of warm passion to share

  Inertia overcome
  Surrendering stasis
  Get up and go
  Time for a change now

  Got to get back somehow

  Sense surrounds with
  Plentiful pervasive plans
  Arriving again
  Sudden sprite resurgence

  This year yet another emergence

  
  “Pages In The Book of Life”
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  4/8/09 7:13 a.m. pdt

  The questions which bubbled to the surface years ago
  Burst like exploded party balloons and fast disappeared
  Or so I thought as I stumbled through life to and fro
  Nothing was as bountiful or as distressing as I’d feared.

  Each annum passes with innocuous abandon
  Each page of life’s book falls away and crumbles to dust
  The results of yearning innocent interrogatives
  Hardly keep company with our minds as they must

  The secrets and lies spouted blithely without care
  The sad precautions which turned their backs on us all
  Heed not the dappled dalliance of time’s custodians
  A light breeze reverbrates and resonates throught the pall

  I wish to be a gifted child, filled with hope and promise
  Again, as in the past, propelled with wonder by my peers
  But the past occurs only in those crumbling pages
  And no amount of glue or tape will bring back those lost years

  Observation and insistence, gleeful afternoons without pain
  The present holds promise and hope even as the hours fade away
  False senses of answers pour down from the exploded bubbles
  And another night pure in darkness will encroach on the day

   

  “Xangadon”
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  (with apologies to Samuel Taylor Coleridge)
  4/8/09 7:44 a.m. pdt

  In Xangadon did bloggers numerous
  A stately pleasure site decree
  Where waters from the river of time
  Flowed endless in a rapid climb
  Into the wordless sea

  But oh! that deep romantic chasm which
  Collected the words of these bloggers’ thoughts
  Filled at a wondrous fever pitch
  Fulsome words, ebullient, rich

  A mighty fountain of blogging beauty
  Of boasting bombast
  Of innocent questioning
  And wisdom forsworn
  Burbling wordling wonders
  Art, literature, pictures which say a thousand things
  All roiling round the river of words

  Xanga looked mid this tumult to the depths of
  wonder, amidst the perfect fount of words,
  Subtle skirmishes, all out war,
  Reverbrating richness
  Rallying recourse
  The collected yearnings and turnings of mankind’s past
  The substantial questions and benificence of
  mankind’s future
  The dome of blogdom, constructed of irony and happenstance,
  towering above blind circumstance,
  eliciting many comments within the caves of ice
  weaving circles round them thrice
  But no one blogger claims ire or dread
  For we on words are fully fed
  And drunk the milk of  Xangadise

   

  “Smoking Gunsel”
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  4/8/09 8:37 a.m. pdt

  “He was a nice quiet guy”
  Illusions of meaningfulness
  “I can’t understand why…”
  Delusions of grandeur
  “He kept to himself”
  Boiling anger, unchecked
  “He seldom smiled”
  Confusion and conflict

  Arriving at the botched conclusion
  that nothing matters anymore
  another unassuming individual
  makes another derisive decision
  to die
  creating collateral carnage
  until the end arrives

  Perchance the many signposts weren’t understood
  Perhaps the silent deadliness of doom
  went unchecked
  His clockspring wound tightly
  HIs mind bereft of it’s sense
  And sensing nothing but pain
  He pulls a gun so people will know him
  And in the bargain other people will perish

  The weapon’s reports
  evolve into news reports
  of agonizing dread and despair
  He is remembered
  For a short while until the
  next gunsel arms himself

  “He was a nice quiet guy
  I can’t understand why..
  He kept to himself
  He seldom smiled

   

  “Still Yet Another Lost Love Poem”
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  4/8/09 2:34 a.m. pdt

  Less than perfect, yet craving perfection
  in the form of love
  Ago, now, forever
  Less than perfect, yet whole and unbroken
  waiting as love’s timespring winds tighter
  Less than perfect, but perfectly willing
  to embrace the all encompassing lovelines
  of fate, and so, willing, have waited
  as these lovelines are etched
  as in concrete
  unassailing, unbroken,
  solidly deterring emotion
  Until it is emotionless,
  naked, wanting,
  unaware of love’s passions
  unbridled loving
  faraway passion plays
  in which I never have a part

  Less than perfect
  Wanting love
  but settling for life

  ---

  BEHIND THE POETRY: April is National Poetry Month. In schools and on websites across the American nation, poets and would be poets are attempting to pen a poem a day, with the end result a poem book filled with 30 verses. A lot of Xangans are celebrating by attempting this exercise, and I’ve seen blogs where poems have suddenly appeared like spring blossoms on a verdant field.

  I’ve never written a “poem a day”, and as I’ve stated many times here on this blog, I usually write about a poem a month, if I write with any regularity at all. I do sometimes exercise “spontaneous poetry”, however, and with this post, I celebrate National Poetry Month by posting today’s work, a total of five poems. The first three were written one after another before work started. I wrote the fourth while taking a break. I wrote the fifth just now prior to leaving work for home.  I’d write more, (and still might, the day isn’t over yet, and I’d like to at least have eight poems, one for each of the days of this month that have passed.) but I’d really like to attract readers with this post, and some of my gargantuan poetry posts are much too long to read in one sitting.

  Among the poems here are 1. “Emergence”: A chronicle of middle aged angst. 2. “Pages In The Book of Life”: An attempt yet again to answer life’s “questions” utilizing ABCB rhyme. 3. “Xangadon” a poor attempt at humor set in the Xanga community, and written in the vein of Coleridge’s “Kubla Khan”. 4. “Smoking Gunsel”. Some thoughts about the “collateral carnage” (the first title) which has been rampant in the news lately. and 5. “Still Yet Another Lost Love Poem” , an endess reworkng of unrequited love. MFN/ppf

  • 6:03 pm
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