#100Days100Poems Will Return!

On 21 January 2017, Waxyandpoetic.com embarked on #100Days100Poems of Protest in response to the election and inauguration of an orange menace. Four years later we find ourselves in a position to begin to clean up the disaster and rebuild. In the tradition of those poems, Waxy & Poetic is proud to call for submissions for #100Days100Poems of What’s Next!?

During the first hundred days of the Biden administration, that’s the question. What hopes do you have? What calls to action? What cries to rally the troops to continue the necessary fight? What good trouble should we get in? Where do we need to turn our attention? What’s next in order to continue moving forward?

Interpret the theme as broadly as you’d like. #100Days100Poems of What’s Next!? wants your poems, your prose, your visual art (photos, drawings, sculptures), your short films and animations.

Waxy & Poetic is a vehicle for spreading that art to the four corners, free to all. We cannot offer compensation for your work, but all rights remain with the creators.

Our work is only just beginning, and as Salman Rushdie once said, “A poet’s work is to name the unnameable, to point out frauds, to take sides, start arguments, shape the world, and stop it going to sleep.”

If you would like to submit to this endeavor, please send an email, with your visual art (as .jpg or .pdf) or your poem saved as a word document (.docx) to waxyandpoetic AT gmail DOT com. All rights remain with the author. Please address any formatting preferences in your email. Waxyandpoetic.com will post submissions time permitting, with at least one per day beginning 20 January 2021.

VOTE!

VOTE!

U.S. Code Title 2  §ection  7. Time of election

The Tuesday next after the 1st Monday in November, in every even numbered year, is established as the day for the election, in each of the States and Territories of the United States,

so

Vote! because they’re trying their damnedest to stop you.
Vote! because refugees need refuge not refusal.
Vote! because small counties in small states can’t see past their gated community walls.
Vote! because courts should protect not reject rights.
Vote! because kids should be in pillow forts not cages.
Vote! because presidents should seek neither prophet nor profits,
 and be neither puppet nor poppet.
Vote! because walls make better shelters, not better borders.
Vote! because Black Lives Matter.
Vote! because bodily autonomy is not under the sovereign rule of the fragile
 white man, the melting snowflake, the flaccid cock.
Vote! because mail-in ballots are more valuable than a white male in power.
Vote! because tear gas is a terrible twist on gaslighting.
Vote! because  integrity and honor are better than payment after being on her.
Vote! because plans panned for a pandemic is plain manic, especially when meant
 to avoid panic in the public opinion polls.
Vote! because masks aren’t political, and the unmasked is the mark of the beast.
Vote! because melting ice caps make for swelling white caps on the beaches and
 boulevards of inland towns.
Vote! because the checks and balances need to be checked and balanced, there being
 too much red in their ledger.
Vote! because bankruptcy can’t save the nation.
Vote! because a peached orange has tainted all the produce in the box.
Vote! because it is the least violent of our options.
Vote! because lives and life depend on the ballot box and the weight it holds
 on this
 the first Tuesday after the first Monday
 could lift us from a cold November mourning.

©2020 David Siller ; Twitter/IG @waxyandpoetic ; waxyandpoetic.com

Another shooting? How about some…

 

 

 

Thoughts & Prayers

This is for the gun gods
the My AR-15 weighs a ton gods
the doesn’t matter what you did you’ll still get done gods
the church mass massacre calling home the nun gods
the draw in the raffle see what weapon you’ve won gods
the pop the kid with the plastic pistol playground fun gods
the if you’re white it’s alright, if you’re black better reach for the sun gods
the stop!-I’ll-shoot-you-in-the-back-if-you-run gods
the guns got safeties and you got none gods
the present is dystopian w/o the future’s set your phasers on stun gods

we have not yet spilled enough blood
& there is more to spill
we have not yet spilled enough blood
& there is more to spill

we beseech you, grant us
        gats for teachers & straps for preachers
        toolies for tots & toasters for teens
        glocks for girls & biscuits for boys
we need burners & heaters
               heat & street sweepers
        a piece for peace of mind
        a problem solver for algebra time

grant us the weapons we need for
        elementaries & junior highs
        movie theatres & senior highs
for night clubs & churches
for shopping malls & other houses of worships
for concerts & pool parties & county fairs & baseball practice fields

we have not yet spilled enough blood
& there is more to spill
we have not yet spilled enough blood
& there is more to spill

our arms dealer who art in heaven
hollow points be your game
your amendment come, your will be done
in schools as it is in cinemas
give us this day our daily clips
and forgive us our friendly fire
as we forgive those who fire against us
and lead us not into gun regulation
and deliver us from safety
for thine is the gun show
and the power and the gory
forever and ever
bang bang

 

 

When Love Drinks Too Much, & Gets Honest

Love Offers an Apologia to Various Bar Patrons
Between Sips of His Fourth Long Island Iced Tea

To begin, there is no alpha and no omega, I just am. And let me dispel the pop culture myth that I’m all you need, because it’s not true. You need more, you really do. (I said tealights and Beaujolais, not tacos and Budweiser.) It is not my fault that you didn’t write down what she said after those margaritas and it is not my fault that you did not meet him when he told you, nor that you did not wear that little charcoal gray number he likes so much. It is not my fault that he smokes cigars, nor that she has a penchant for them. Could you add another shot of gin to this please? I didn’t name the car in that Disney movie, though after further review I think it works. I’ve never once said that you should say it over and over and over, tossing it around like ‘Hello’ or ‘How’s it going?’ It should be almost-sacred, whispered, shouted, intimate (take that as you wish–intimate and cozy, intimate apparel, intimate friends, into mate). It needs a little rum, too. I do not have wings and I do not go around shooting heart-tipped arrows in some serial-loving rampage that’s going to be on the 6 o’clock news. February 14 was not my idea, neither were those little cards you had to buy for Mrs. Morton’s third grade class. I’ve had it up to here with the TV game shows, the classified ads, and Hallmark. It is not my fault she set you up with the guy from IT. I never told you she would be gentle. I don’t honor redos. I don’t encourage cutesy poems and letters in her locker. Say, more vodka please, the ice is melting. I don’t recommend you wait for him after every practice. I don’t like it when you say tough love and I don’t answer calls on the first ring. ‘Hugs not Drugs’ is not mine (does it work?). You can’t me books, TV shows, outfits, money, movies, cars, cities, or Mexican food. You should, whether or not he can dance. If you really do, she should get another chance. And it’s not a matter of whether you keep on your pants. Triple sec, more triple shec, the balanshe is off. My pet peeves are wishy-washy-ness, unfinished business, and people who use ❤. Since the year dot, I’ve only tried to make it go ‘round. Sometimes you guys should pitch in. At first sight is okay, but it bothers me that the French call it a strike of lightning. What’s the weather got to do with it? I protest words that rhyme with me, I am a wonderful thing, even if he can’t sing.

And I’m definitely better than war.

In the NYC area this weekend?

Did you know the poet is also a sometime actor? Indeed he is! If you’re in the New York City area, make sure to stop in Queens to see awesome community theatre action with The First String Players production of ‘Enter Laughing.’ You’ll be glad you did!

Tell them about Waxy & Poetic when you buy your tickets! See me after the show!

 

fsp flyer

#100Days100Poems #TBT Happy 4th!

In honor of today’s July 4th Celebrations, I thought we’d do a little throw back Tuesday to a poem that first appeared during #100Days100Poems. We must continue to #Resist

 

Where Are You, America?

there you are, you
        scientists & park rangers & women & men & immigrants & 
        green card holders & teachers & stay-at-home dads & 
        stay-at-home moms & christians & muslims & atheists & 
        agnostics & taxi drivers & people 
`                with open hearts and open minds and open eyes


there you are

 
wandering
        on the National Mall at the feet of Lincoln
            ferrying the Hudson, led by Lady LIberty’s light
                navigating under the Golden Gate
                    gliding into the Port of Galveston

 


marching
       in Lafayette Park & Battery Park
       in Copley Square & Herman Square

 
       on Market Street & Lavaca Street
       on Fifth Ave & Congress Ave

 

landing and waiting and protesting
        @ JFK & SFO & DFW
        @ LAX & PDX & PHX
        @ PHL & STL & SAN & SEA
        @ IAH & DEN & RDU & ORD

 


speaking out
        from Lexington to Little Rock to Philadelphia
        from Sacramento to Albany
        from Cape Cod to Corpus Christi
        from Memphis to Milwaukee to Kalamazoo


speaking truth to propaganda
        in the Badlands
        in Yosemite & Yellowstone
echoing through the Rocky mountains and the Great Smoky Mountains

 

fist pumping at city halls and veterans halls
        in Houston & Honolulu
        in Burlington & Buffalo & Baton Rouge


America you are everywhere
        and soon you will be back
                in the White House
                                to put right
                                        the alt-right wrong
                                        the poisonous pencer
                                        the burnt orange trump card
                                        the fascist catastrophe


the World will be rooting for you
the World will be waiting for you
                                the true America
                                        the just America
                                                the free America

 

© David Siller – 2017

 

A Post-Hiatus Sestina!

Hello, hello! Greetings and salutations! After finally recovering from #100Days100Poems, we return today with a poem using one of my favorite forms. Look forward to weekly (or so) updates: new poems, prose pieces, culture commentary and the like. Feel free to share this post, and let me know what you think!

 

Is the Commute a Place for the Comm or the Mute?

And the first time we spoke was on a crowded
subway car and it was no accident
that I managed to untwist my tongue
long enough for an awkward hello to rise
from the timid lockbox that keeps me separate
from normal human interactions, where I am out of sync.

 

on most occasions where the M.O. is to sink
into myself, better hanging on to straps of crowded
thoughts, I instead jostle human to human to unseparate
my voice from your ears, your song from mine. No accident,
then, that in a few moments of foolish bravery or brave foolery I rise
to move from here to you, green light to expressive tongue

 

And tied it is, this cottoned, hesitant tongue,
where a life vest is not enough to stop me sinking
into my sea of doubt, bay of disbelief–and still I rise
from this too-tight seat on an underground train, crowded
with commuters & dancers & panhandlers. I have accidentally
convinced myself that words will not keep us separate.

 

and this end of the car, the score of bodies separating
us & our initial contact, our first wordsembracekiss, lips & tongue
dancing as if colliding in some mass transit accident
and I wade through the swamp of passengers. My heart sinks
as at first I struggle to make it through the crowd
of head-phoned, book-nosed, ear-budded, phone-focused mass. Hope rises.

 

And as I clamber through a bipedal jungle, as eyes rise
from my solitude to your ‘well, come over here’ glance, I begin to separate
this lumpy undesirable frame from the train crowd,
thought bubbles morph into speech bubbles as ‘hello’ moves from brain to tongue
and my only thought is how to sink
into the seat beside you, willing a welcome happy accident

 

or derailment– re-setting my course to you through accident
or crash through crowd and car, too. Rise
bold and brave in your vision–how I want to sink
into you, merge, mingle, marry, so as not to be separate
whether connected by hand or heart tongue
finding each other on a local, rush hour train, delayed and crowded

And as my tongue rises, clicks a tsk to roof of closed mouth, I sink into my seat.
It is no accident that this crowded commute insists on keeping us separate.

 

**

 

© David Siller – 2017

#100Days100Poems Day 100 — #PhotoPoem The Struggle Will Continue

Before getting to the end of all this, I want to express my sincerest thanks to all of those who followed, shared, and submitted for this project. It’s been a long slog, fun but draining. Keeping up with all the disasters, tweets, uproars, and prevarications day in and day out has been taxing to say the least. I hope you’ll stick around as I continue to post (back to solely original poetry, translations, and (pop) culture commentary for the time being), and rest assured that the work will most assuredly not be related to the garbage fire-in-chief. As always, comments and questions are welcome for any post.

*

We finish with a #PhotoPoem inspired by what is found in the collection of sculptures at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Rather than discuss the titles, origins &tc. of the sculptures themselves, this #PhotoPoem is instead unified by its title, regardless of the context of each individual sculpture, its national origins or artistic school. I conclude with this because, frankly, I can’t find any more words.

When The Whole World is Eagerly
Awaiting an Arrest & an Impeachment

 

© David Siller – 2017

.

*****

For the first 100 days of the Trumpet administration, this blog featured a new poem of protest, by my own hand or by others. Some were polished gems, or rough cut drafts of rage, or in process pieces searching for peace. They were haiku or tanka, limericks and lyrics, verses free or fettered.

THOUGH WE’VE REACHED OUR HUNDRED DAYS, WE WILL STILL CONTINUE TO POST PROTEST PIECES PERIODICALLY. I

f you would like to submit to this endeavor, please send an email, with poem saved as a word document (.docx) to waxyandpoetic AT gmail DOT com. All rights remain with the author.

VISUAL ARTISTS ! Do you have something visually poetic that you’d like to submit? GO FOR IT!

Please address any formatting preferences in your email. I will post submissions time permitting. Editing will be limited to obvious errors of spelling and the like.

Read, follow, share, re-tweet, submit, live, love, spread light! Don’t forget to use #100Days100Poems !

*****

#100Days100Poems Day 99 #TantrumTanka #TruthTanka

We’re almost there.

 

Read This Carefully,
All You F^%&s That Voted for This @$$clown
OR
Holy Thor, Vishnu, Zeus, Osiris, We’re DOOMED!

“I thought it would be
easier.” I thought it would
be easier? You
thought it would be eas-
ier?!?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?!?

© David Siller – 2017

.

*****

For the first 100 days of the Trumpet administration, this blog will feature a new poem of protest, by my own hand and by others. They will be polished gems, or rough cut drafts of rage, or in process pieces searching for peace. They may be haiku or tanka, limericks or lyrics, verses free or fettered. If you would like to submit to this endeavor, please send an email, with poem saved as a word document (.docx) to waxyandpoetic AT gmail DOT com. All rights remain with the author.

VISUAL ARTISTS ! Do you have something visually poetic that you’d like to submit? GO FOR IT!

Please address any formatting preferences in your email. I will post submissions time permitting, with at least one per day. Editing will be limited to obvious errors of spelling and the like.

Read, follow, share, re-tweet, submit, live, love, spread light! Don’t forget to use #100Day