June 10, 2021

30 years of poerty

δΈͺ

(heads up! listen to the poem here) 


pretty waitress perfect of fools


she’s a lovely cold sculpture, marble nude with her head cut off

a sexartwar reality keeps the rattle snake that bit her

in a peanut butter jar, like voodoo

 

she’s a painting of a painting, a revlon reproduction

venus on the half-shell, phosphorus and effervescent, arms wide like

happy hour and everybody’s glow in the dark expectations

                                                                coming true

 

she wears a uniform of fingerprints, her angels in aprons overshadowed

by dogs playing poker, howling her attention

she cleans up and collects whatever beerbelly heroes will spare

nickels quarter dimes, her rent money jingles

 

she’s a time-traveling daydream, her mind leaping thru wormholes

body serving smiles here, head swimming in future grace

 

on long bus rides she rearranges mental furniture (symbolic sofas

in relation to symbolic windows, grand pianos on top of glass coffee tables

                on top of brass buddha candle holders)

                                acrobats and ballet daredevils   

 

she stuffs her soul into shoes too small, stretches her body into double shifts

overtime in underground nightclubs, basements full of hey-dudes

                                and hey-bros in hey-ho-lets-roll rattlesnake bliss

                licking each syllable- hey girl

                                                                you-wanna-git-wit-thissssssssssssssssssssss?

 

                she’s twenty-seven now, still standing in a doorway, evolving

revolving in and out of fear and doubt and circles of dead inception (sex-

art-war-sex-art-war-sex-art-war-sex-art-war-sex-

art

war)

 

see her scrubbing tables? see her bleaching her reflection?

scratching thru the surface the varnish comes unglued, see her

wash away? the moment splits in two, a small voice becomes urgent like

some twisted edvard munch screaming

                                                                                screwthissceneiwantout!

 

put the wardrobe back on the mannequin

pose it in the kitchen, the display window

                back up on the pastry tray

slip out of her mona lisa cage

where the black earth washes her feet

                 removing miles of bad road

turning stone back to flesh

winter-thawed and summer-bound

                                aprilish

singing reunited gaia-heart

                                (i am universe

                i am

                                universe

                                                i am

                uni

                                                verse)

see her holding the moon in her hands?

perfect

of poets and fools 


posted for the open mic at: D'verse


31 comments:

  1. Oh my, this is an incredible piece. Also, Happy 30 years! That's amazing. I wish to write poetry even half as long as that. :D That's absolutely incredible.

    But wow, this poem stirs some emotions out of me. It's like plastering a face to the world, day in day out, and then trying to find yourself in different things. You think if it's you, are you happy? But if it is not, then what is it? What do people not look through? Perhaps it's like finding yourself but people only see the facade and when you look past it (as the host), it's almost misery. Just my interpretation here, of course. I see some identity themes raveling throughout here too and I love this. The figurative imagery, the prose, it's stunning and beautifully executed.

    I'm going to bookmark this so I can read it again and again, it's just that good. :D

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    1. thank you lucy, those are very kind words, glad you enjoyed this

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  2. Bittersweet portrait of one of those angels of song, revered of poets and drunks who are (were) sometimes both (guilty). Tuff lot for the modern monalisas! But growing deeper is ever the salvation for muse and poem. Lots of poetry selves along the way and poems like these are handy mirrors for reflecting on that. (My link dates back to 2002). Congrats on decades of the craft - more to come.

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    1. thanks brendan, glad you enjoyed this.

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  3. Perfect of poets and fools! I love the images you have created here. I hope your heroine one day learns to write her own poetry :-) Congratulations on 30 years of poetry yourself!

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    1. thank you ingrid, glad you enjoyed this, and i didn't get to your poem last night but i will get there tonight, thanks again

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  4. Loving this post....and congratulations to you on thirty years of poetry.
    Although dVerse is listed in the side column of your blog listed on My Blog List....there is no tag to dVerse or mention of dVerse at the end of your poem. I think you simply forgot to list it in the celebration of your accomplishments? Could you please add a tag or line at the end of your post that indicates you've posted it to OLN at dVerse (https://dversepoets.com? That is a requirement here at dVerse. I'll check back a bit later to insure you've made that correction. AND ... so happy to celebrate this accomplishment with you!

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    1. hi Lillian, sorry about that, i didn't read all the way the posting rules, my bad. i have the link posted now, let me know if i did it right. thanks again.

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    2. No problem. Yes, it's there now. Many thanks and so glad to see you at dVerse!

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  5. Congrats on 30 years!!!! Never stop writing, the world would be a mighty dull place.

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    1. hi helen, glad you liked this, and thanks for the encouragement =)

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  6. Phillip,
    Carried away by this tour de force! It reminds me so much on Ginsberg and Kerouac, this primal howl of "the pretty waitress perfect of fools" even though tracked by the poets and the fools for whom she holds the moon in her hands!

    Happy celebration of 30 years of writing poetry! ��

    pax,
    dora

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    1. thank you dora, ginsberg and kerouac and all the beats really, are my favorite, so i take that as a huge compliment, thank you!

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  7. Phillip, yes, you should be proud of this — excellent writing! It holds the truth of a life of struggle…

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    1. thank you rob, a life of struggle, yes. so glad you liked this

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  8. Lots of great lines in this, I especially loved (perhaps because I spent many a year in the same said sad situation) "Her rent money jingles" -- happy 30th in poetry. ~peace, Jason

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    1. yes, if your rent money has ever jingled then youre an american hero in my book. thank you jason

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  9. richly textured character study. so many women have been crammed into this mold, against their wills. despite all of that, their spirit beats strong. how could one survive otherwise...

    Happy 30 Year Anniversary of Writing Poetry.

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    1. " how could one survive otherwise..." so true, thank you jadeli

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  10. A tour deforce! Love the originality! JIM

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  11. Wow ... 30 years that's amazing. I am soon ten years of writing, I love the description and how yo managed to capture her both from the emotions (and lust) she evokes and the sad side of her dreams that cannot be found from collecting the tips.

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    1. thank you sir, so glad you enjoyed this

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  12. Poetry is for life.
    This is beautifully written
    Love this

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    1. poetry is for life... true dat! thank you digidaddy, glad you enjoyed this

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  13. this is a beautiful ode for poetry. really good. really good.

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  14. A stunning vivid poem, Phillip, as if I'm watching a scene from a film play out and I want to know what happens next :-) There's always so much more to the waiter and waitress, isn't there? They always see so much, they hear everyone's stories, they put up with the ugliness of human nature, it's a fascinating perspective. I love these lines:

    "she wears a uniform of fingerprints, her angels in aprons overshadowed
    by dogs playing poker, howling her attention" /

    "she’s a time-traveling daydream, her mind leaping thru wormholes
    body serving smiles here, head swimming in future grace" <3

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    1. thank you sunra, "There's always so much more to the waiter and waitress" yes! i like to think i'm a semi-pro people watcher, and its the waiters and waitress', people like that, who i find the most interesting, and the most "poem-worthy". thanks again, glad you liked.

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  15. I'd say something foolish like 30 is the new something or other, but new math, who needs it? I'm just glad to have stumbled across your writing, Phillip. Your voice is authentic and sharp as an ocean wind intent on waking you ~

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    1. thank you grapeling, those are huge compliments, hope i can live up to them someday =)

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