You say it is peaceful there,
together on the beach,
in the open air, the blue skies.
You say we should tell our friends
goodbye, go where there is
sun in wintertime. You say this is
our destiny. If you love me enough,
how could I disagree? If I love you
enough, will you stop hustling?
Then I will make no protest; we
will make our plans, and this
is what we’re gonna do.
After “Go West,” by The Village People, because I have gone west on business.
My horse hears the sounds of the earth,
thinks it’s a beautiful morning to go for a run.
Somewhere, there’s an elephant in the corn;
it has a feeling, something about climbing.
Like a bright, golden haze, I don’t miss
a tree—not even the willows
laughing in the sky.
My grandmother had a music box that played this song from Oklahoma! She kept it in her attic, which had two beds in it and a ceiling that sloped down low enough that a child could brace her feet against it and smell the attic smells and have a beautiful feeling about being comfortable and loved.
It’s a long day
when there’s a freeway
down the middle of your heart.
Falling vampires in the shadows.
Good girls are made to be broken.
Is that your name written in the sky?
What carries you away?—Jesus?
Elvis? Horses? Your boyfriend? Or is it
all the bad boys of Southern California?
I wanted a fall song, and somehow I ended up with “Free Fallin’” by Tom Petty. There’s more to it than I remembered—lots for me to work with, and a real sense of place.
Champagne Bubble-Up
as the whole house bounces
in your dreamy eyes, in your
dreamy carless street.
Let’s get it started; buy
a bikini from your neighbor
at the yard sale. You can
wear it when you drink
wine with your people,
bond with them while you
sit in someone else’s best
folding chair. Bring it out,
bring it out, pasta salad
and a Frisbee. Bartender,
pry me a beer from the
Igloo on the card table.
Block party, and everything’s
light; can’t drink and drive
when the street’s still closed.
Empty the bar. Empty the
bar; don’t bring back liquor
from the block party. Leave it
outside. Stay out to clean up
Solo cups of moonlight.
Based on something called Block Party Riddim Mix because we had our annual block party today. By mix, it means that it’s actually a bunch of songs, totaling about 19 minutes. I realized that last part once I was about 12 minutes in.
Like stars, your begonias
burn holes in my eyes.
My beard grows against
your skin with a lion’s thirst.
Flicking fire, I drag you back—
no more walls. Only an inch,
one sleepy inch, keeps us
from bursting in the dark.
After Passion Pit’s “Sleepyhead.” A second one for today, by the way, because I missed yesterday on account of being too tired (and also there might have been a little Candy Crush Saga involved).
And … you know I sometimes write persona poems, right? So I’m not necessarily the bearded guy in this poem? OK, good.
My eyeball jumps at you
from inside my mouth;
its eyeball friends spill
down my tongue. Do you
know what to make of this:
scissors, bees, giant fish?
Careful—under her hairnet,
the lunch lady has no face.
I am angry at this shark,
this skeleton hand, these
neon-frosted doughnuts.
It all spins too fast; I can’t
ride my unicycle when
the lunch lady, joined by
clones, is dancing around
my fruited head. My poor
blob head. How it throbs
with frilly spectacle as
a giant bone pokes in
from the window. What
defense can there be, in
this gas-permeable world?
All I can do is clap. Clap—
and wish for toast.
I jumbled it up, but believe it or not, all these images and more (so, so many more) are in this song from Japan that became a huge viral hit a couple of years ago. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, you should go watch it right now! Or if you do know, go watch it again—it really is as crazy as you remember.
Son, I am the eagle
that has come
to take you home.
Son, the wind is
blowing; your heart
is machinery going
BOOM
BOOM
BOOM.
Son, climb the hill
again; you can trust
imagination. Time
stands still, son;
grab anything
that takes you
home.
After Peter Gabriel’s “Solsbury Hill.” I love this song, but there’s another reason I chose it for today. This morning, I met with a friend who is from China. She has been reading my poems, and we had a very nice conversation about a few of them. She mentioned the BOOM BOOM BOOM in this one. It occurred to me that I knew another song where a heart goes BOOM BOOM BOOM. Betty, if you’re reading this, I hope you enjoy it! 🙂
Joy to you and me,
boys and girls.
Joy to you and me,
and rainbows.
Joy and sweet love.
And wine.
In the deep blue sea,
there are no cars,
but we get around
mighty fine,
the bullfrogs,
the boys and girls,
the wine—
and me.
Probably obvious, but this one’s based on “Joy to the World” by Three Dog Night. If it’s Tuesday, 3 p.m. Eastern or later, check out Open Link Night at dVerse Poets. And if you’re feeling the joy, please feel free to leave me a song request in the comments!
Letting in sky, I shine—
I know what it’s like.
Under the city lights,
I start screaming,
leaning back, smiling,
blowing that roof off.
I wanna just live
inside my big white
walls, lounging,
easy weaving, riding
into the night, trying
to cross the bridge.
After Macklemore & Ryan Lewis’s “White Walls.” Amidst all the bitches and hoes, f this and that are some really lovely images. I lifted those out and rearranged them here.
I need feet to run away from you.
I hear a lilting melody; it’s Hoochy-Coo
from a carnival tent in Scunthorpe.
I’ll walk there after I run, and I’ll
dance there after I walk.
Did you ever stop to think, as you
stood on my toe? Did you ever see
how I was fraying at the ends? I am
not to be sniffed at, nor are my feet,
after a hard day’s work.
But you’re a pretty girl; when you
gaze at me, how can I lose my temper?
Think of all the things we can do
in Scunthorpe. I need my feet
to run away with you.
Ever heard of Bernard Bresslaw? ‘Ave ya? I hadn’t, but in my Facebook news feed was this funny, Cockney-accented song about feet. What do you fink of it?
Marilyn Rauch Cavicchia 