April 6, 2004

It's National Poetry Month.

Look at how I care.

No, really, I do.

I'm a poet,
and any citation as to my knowledge of that fact deserves punishment.

Fuck your novels, I'm a poet.
I'm a writer, and I'm right on!


Those lines were in a poem that I wrote. Obviously, they were edited out.

Actually, I'm in the middle of editing some poems of mine for a few grants and scholarships the school is offering. The awards are only $250, but there are 3 different scholarships/grants, and my English teacher last year was the state Poet Laureate, and I was her favourite... (grins). So I'm optimistic. Plus I'm the only student to have more than one poem in this year's lit mag. So they already like my work. I'm going to be extremely presumtious and say that I'm a shoe-in.

Just look at my hubris.

The following is a poem I'm thinking of including. (I'm allowed to submit up to four poems.) Since it's National Poetry Month, I thought I'd post it. The spacing isn't exactly right (damn w.bloggar!), and I'm a bit iffy on the ending. But whatever.


the synergy between love and war

you put my song first on your 9/11 mix
you called me up halfway through the state of the union to hear me scream at the set
we dropped everything & went for coffee when we saw the bombs dropping on Baghdad

it's hard now

I can't always be the great spokesman I try to be for you
I can't always update my notes on the atrocities whenever you're feeling too complacent
and need your fix for the day

you can't drop me as a lover
but keep me on as your do-gooder
to appease the liberal you want to be so badly

you can't call me up 2 days after the fact and say
< we should discuss things between us. we should also discuss the war because I think you'd be good at it >

how amusing.

it's funny cos you wrote me off as a guilt trip
cos you thought you didn't have enough time
cos you wouldn't let me qualify
cos you constructed the big ass wall to cover your tracks

see, well, the thing about that is
I was willing to wait
I was just as busy and I built walls just as big as yours

and you can't call me up, 48 hours later
so you can feel lectured
so you can have another stat to tell when you want to be righteous and indignant
you cannot use my left wing to flog yourself in penitence
it doesn't work that way

you're not allowed to use cheesy war metaphors like
-we fought like atomic bombs
-we were both loose cannons without a cause
-all's fair in love and war

is it fair that we killed 217 civilians during the first 72 hours?
is it fair that we used napalm on Safawan hill?
is it fair that you'll quote this poem in your poli sci class
and be praised for your topicality?
is it?
Here lies a most ridiculous raw youth, indulging himself in the literary graces that he once vowed to eschew. Now he just rocks out.