JP's Take on B. Assignment #1: "Concurrence (Jellyfish)"

By -
I'm worried this is damn near unreadable. But I wrote two poems while listening extensively to different dubstep artists, then sorta mashed up the two poems. It's all abstract 'n' shit. But maybe it is a little fun? Who knows. Thought I'd try my hand. It's about dancing in subways.

Concurrence (Jellyfish)

Chemical orange snaps light,
pops fixtures, ripples along metal brackets,
coats blacktop grey salt,
basalt and flashes of ruby.

Move vertically, flex the orbiting
percussion through skin.

Tripping with a knifey face,
the night etches dark raccoon rings
around sockets, spreading down
squint lines. Red tendrils, rend-
ripped jeans gouge slits in sidewalk.

Snake chloroform of subway,
squeeze into the space
between headphone and ear. Recoil
against my spine.

Bitchassness bustling into the car,
tear at the windscreen, fill the car,
be fat and happy, be the firestarter, cloak
eyes with lids.

The jellyfish pulses, rotates, undulates
in the stagnant travelled air. Catch, current. Push orange soul.
Only copy that
which is thin but strong.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Second Assignment, late (of course) but worth it (I hope)

By -
I wanted to write something that dealt with the construction of gendered identities, so I did. It works within a specifically heterosexual lens, which is intentional. Yet, it's not totally critique. There's a kind of mesermizing aspect to the dance of gender: a formulaic, unsympathetic samba toward something monstruous, elegant and artificial. -B. Table of Context i. mater every woman must own a little black dress, must wear it’s simple shape with complexity, learn it’s secret: that every woman is her own secret stuffed into a silhouette. every woman must own a little black dress, must remember where it’s curves meet, feign simplicity or at least the shape of it, learn where to make room for secrets in a silhouette. every woman must own a little black dress, must tuck away the shape of her dreams, learn how to hold herself simply, secret the complexities into the shape of a silhouette. ii. pater a man is an elegy of wood and stone. a man is not allowed. a man is an elegy of b...
Read more

Third Assignment: Pass that Stash, a treasure hunt

By -
Even though a certain Rodder, *ahem,hoo-ah,ahem* didn't subject hisself to Kate's assignment, I'm posting another for general cogitation. I've got a hunger my friends, and that hunger happens to be for badass poetry. Here it is: Optional Step 1) Get schwasted. Approved varieties: whiskey, Pabst, Carlo, or a $10 bottle of champagne 2) Go on a magical internets treasure hunt. The stipulations are as follows: a) A pastiche poem of sorts is to be made, blasted, molded, squeezed out of the treasure hunt. b) The hunt must be multimedia (I'm thinking the triumvirate of music, film, text; but play with this how you want). c) A search engine must be used in order to generate islands along your personal treasure map (this is so we aren't purposely going to sexy sites we've scoped out before). d) We google (or whatever) 5 of the same words/phrases to generate different websites to put on the map. These words/phrases are to be voted and decided on by this SUNDA...
Read more

JP on "deal with me," BBRRRRAP!

By -
Bbrrrrap! (the force is strong in others) I don’t shake, I detonate. See I can pile up words like casings in a bullet factory. See I can twist your ear with a swish of jawbone. A cotillion of lashing. An affront of debutantes. I don’t give a fuck, I keep them all for myself. I break it smooth: the force is strong in others, the mysteries beat firm in the breasts of any John, but Tenderheels I will workmanlike my way into your softest tissues, will pound the raw meat of your feet into crunked trochees, shatter this tartare tertiary terroir until it speaks in the voice of all joyous aberrants! Bbrrrrap! goes the bass-loud glade! Bbrrrrap! goes the drumbomb in your heartspace! strongarm the yellowpages if you want that fancy stacking, here is just the sound of explosions and sega chimes ringing brash in the long dark. pray only so your knees get hard enough to get down. write only so the pens get stabbier – see the bloodshed we dream with graph paper! Bbrrrrap! I detonate! Bbrrrrap! I...
Read more