Monday, March 31, 2014

The Tube

Here I am. Clean, fresh and full,
Slid out from my box with one easy pull
Hello world, it is good to meet you
Then placed on the counter, nothing askew
I have a place, I have purpose.
Little I’d known, this experience just scrapped the surface.
At first it was great. My cap fit on tight.
And the rest of me smoothly shone in the bathroom light.
Then one day I awoke to find myself betrayed.
It had come gradually, like a cruel game had been played.
How had it come to this? My heart often wondered
I was pressed in from the center, someone had blundered
My cap no longer fit, now how could that be?
No! Ow! Stop!  If you weren’t so sloppy you wouldn’t have to bite me
My cap sticks, and substance lingers in each of my ends.
My figure’s destroyed, and I thought you were my friend.
No!  You can’t do this to me! You can’t through me out yet!
I’m not empty! There’s paste in the bottom corners to get…
All because you didn’t treat me right.
And now there’s nothing I can do, not even fight.
If you had just pressed me from the end...
You’d have gotten your money’s worth.

And the end of relationships, the Toothpaste's Revenge.

SPIDERS ARE JERKS, by Dima

SPIDERS ARE JERKS

Na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na.
Spider-man!

I just want your toes.
Don’t hate me.
I just want your face.
Don’t squash.
Wherever you goes
I follow
To get me a taste
Of human.

I’m not a bad person
(Or bug).
It’s just what I do.
Don’t squash.
My life’s about cursin’
Existence
Of people like you.
Don’t hate me.

Oh!  I don’t like flies!
Them’s is lies
Told by entomologists.

No!  I have to say
Who’s my real prey.
I’m an arachnophile  apologist.

I spin a web
To catch your face.
Not filthy bugs.
It’s you I chase.
I really feed
On human hate.
On your discomfort.
This is my fate.

It’s how I live.
Don’t step down.
It’s no big wonder.
Just run.
So you can just forgive
My actions.
And let me live under
Your bed.

Answers, by Dima

Vvvvvvv ker ker vv ker vvv ker.
Seventy-five.
Ker ker ker ker vvv ker ker vv ker ker.
Twenty.
Vv ker ker v ker v ker vvvvv ker ker v
Thirty.  Always chose C.
Vvvvvvvvvvvvvv ker vvvvvvvvvvvvv.
Ninety-six.  Well done.
Vv ker ker ker ker ker ker ker ker ker ker ker ker ker ker ker ker ker.
Embarrasment.
We all heard.
Business school for you.
Vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv.
The sound of a perfect score.
Scantron.

RED CIRCLE


I am what I am. And I am pointless.
I have infinite tangents. But only a single pigment.
A property that produces different sensations on the eye
I absorb most electromagnetic radiation,
But I reflect that with the wavelength near 650nm
Scarlet, vermilion, crimson, ruby, cherry, cerise, cardinal, carmine, wine, blood.
And what else can I do.  I don’t do anything else.
I am 2pi.  Three hundred and sixty degrees,
In the foreground of a white background, I’m the symbol of the Japanese.
But is that all?  I am what I am.
Allegory is in the eye of the beholder.
A target? The bull’s eye? The highest priority?
I do not mean anything of myself.
Who places meaning on me?
I am, what I am.  I am pointless, and red.
But you know what?  That is fine with me.
Imagine, for a moment, if this poem had been about Red Square... 

Leftovers by Lenitschka


Garbage
Abandoned
Forgotten
The back of the icebox is a lonely place
A place where we sit
And wait

We wait
For others
To join us
For once arrived nevermore do they see the light
Nor the joy of being
Consumed

Salad
Spagahetti
Enchilada
These single servings my only companions here
In this place of
Desolation

The mold
Comes creeping
To my innards
We try to evade the green fuzz and stench but still
There is no escape.
Not for us

Us here
Forgotten
Abandoned
We stay, we wait, we languish
We are the lonely ones
Leftovers

The left behind.

Skipping, A Haiku by Lenitschka


One,
Two,
Three,
Four,

Ooof.

Double Dutch is my desire
Yet on my face I fall

Empty Envelopes

As if I could restrain
Watching you board the train
Calling out in vain
For you to stay
As if I could defy
The swelling ‘round my eyes
As good fortune for I
Always seemed to pray
I knew it then and there
But you could not hear
The time you couldn’t spare
The bridge now a pier
The train it leapt off
Into the cold blue
Its destination was
Never meant for you
The letters that I meant
The ones I would have sent
To tell you of my hopes

Now empty envelopes

Weight

Weight.
All I have is weight.
Weight pressing on shoulders; compressing the sinews leaving my bones
aching;
Weight and time; time to think and reason
Time to contemplate the weight
Time to look beneath and wonder
What holds me up?
Does it feel the weight as well?
Is it compressed?
Squished
crushed
If not, does pain exist?
Is it only me?
Am I alone?
What is it about the weight that
pushes my gaze down?
Constant
Old
Alone
Cold
A drone
Carrying
Lifting
Holding
Looking down at my feet
If only I could see my
Face
If only I could see my
Fate
If only I could see
My My Me Mine My pain My weight
Not yours
Mine

As if the whole world was on my
Cliché
My cliché
I get one beautiful moment of rest
The expense of another
The pain of another
His weight now
Do I leave?
Do I shirk what’s mine?
I try
But he’s more cunning
And again its mine.
Mine mine mine mine
Me
I
Do you get the point yet?
I could go on.
Short skirts in the cold
All they say is
I
Am
Cold
Age stricken beings once human
I
Am
So
Old
What is it about complaint?
What is it about
Weight?

I will never give it up.
It’s mine.

-Eric T. Behr


Bad Poems, March '14 - By Sasha



Dust Bunnies
Mom says it’s dusty under the couch
So
Dusty
I think she’s crazy
So
Crazy
I can’t believe she’s making me clean the dust
I’m stomping up the stairs I’m so angry
So
Angry
I’m leaning under the couch
It’s not that –
Woah it’s really dusty down here
So
Dusty
Make sure you clean everywhere kid
I don’t want to see a single speck of dust
Whatever Mom
What
Ever
Make sure you get all the dust bunnies
Whatever Mom
What
Wait there are bunnies?
I only see dust down here
So
Dusty
I bet Mom’s lying to me
Mom always lies
So
Lying
I bet she’s just saying there’s bunnies
So I’ll look under the couch
Mom is annoying like that
So
Annoying
She’s bringing me the vacuum
So
Annoying
There totally aren’t any bunnies here Mom
They’re dust bunnies kid
Whatever Mom
Can’t you see them?
Whatever Mom
I’m turning on the vacuum for you
Whatever Mom
Clean up the dust bunnies
What
Ever
Are you cleaning?
O
M
G
Mom
Turn of the vacuum
I’m not turning off the vacuum until you clean up
No Mom, there are bunnies
What?
Bunnies Mom
So
Bunnies
They’re not real bunnies they’re dust bunnies
No Mom they’re real bunnies
So
Real
You’re lying kid
So
Lying
Am not lying
Whatever kid
What
Ever
They’re coming out of the space under the couch
They’re all brown and fluffy
So
Fluffy
Turn off the vacuum Mom
There are bunnies
There aren’t any –
Woah that’s a lot of bunnies
If you had told me there would be bunnies I would’ve cleaned up sooner
I didn’t know there would be bunnies kid
What kind of mom are you?
I’m a cool mom
No you’re not
So
Not
Yeah I am
Prove it
I’m giving you like eight bunnies right now
Woah thanks Mom
Now clean up the dust under the couch kid
It’s dusty under there
So
Dusty

An Ode to the Dwarf Star
O Star, who shinest so brightly
In the sky
The sky dark like a – really dark cloak or something
In it
Thou shinest
Why art thou so small
Tiny
Miniscule
Dwarfish, one might say
Not that I’d say it, I think you’re magnificent and wonderful and the best star anyone could ask for
I mean you – thou art a bit small and red and sometimes I can’t really see you
But I promise you’re amazing and perfect and I’m sure you’re just as good as any other star
Anyway, Star, Beacon, Light, O great shining orb thingy
I ask thee to grant me one wish
Well, I really would like more wishes but I heard somewhere that asking for more wishes is against the rules so I guess I’ll settle for one
I ask thee for just one wish
One simple
Tiny
Miniscule
Dwarfish
Thought that’s nothing against you of course, my Star
Wish
It’s simple really
Simple for a Star I guess, not that I really know what a Star’s life is like
There’s just this one boy
Well he’s more of a man, really, he’s like sixteen and so dreamy so that basically makes him a grown up adult now right
But anyway he never notices me
Not to say that I’m not important and worthy of having my wish granted by a star, because I assure you – thee – that I am
He just doesn’t understand, O great Star
And if I had just one wish from a Star like you
Even if you are just a little
Tiny
Miniscule
Anyway, even if you are just a little Star
Do you think you ever
You know, if it’s not too much of a problem for a Star like you
Do you think you could make him notice me?