Since new comics are released every Wednesday, please enjoy the world premier of “Marvelous Dynamite Image, Vol 3, #12”
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!
#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
#100Days100Poems Day 98 #TruthTanka #TantrumTanka
Trumpet Fears What They’ll Call His First 100 Days
OR
Pundits Toss Around Catchy Headlines
For What Will Probably Be His Whole Administration
A Recipe for
Disaster!? The Undoing
of America?!
A Charmin-Sponsored Shit Show?!
A Blistering Clusterfuck!?
© 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 #100Days100Poems !
*****
#100Days100Poems Day 97 #TruthHaiku
And on the Ninth Hole He Thinks
It is hard to golf
when people keep bugging me
about world affairs.
© 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 #100Days100Poems !
*****
#100Days100Poems Day 96 #Cinquain
Trumpet Contemplates the Consequences
of His Conniving Publicity Stunt
100 days?
That means 1300+ remain!
How in the hell am I
going to pull this thing off? Better yet,
how in the hell am I
going to avoid going
to jail?
© 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 #100Days100Poems !
*****
