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Saturday, August 30, 2008
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Poem - Blow
Category: Writing and Poetry
Blow Big storm coming, call out the troops and the Blackwater whores, don't forget the retired expert for the evening news because the weather man who is always full of shit has no street cred, and old Frank was getting sick of his wife's thirty years of pent up honey-do's anyway, make sure to have three hundred buses on standby so the newly elected officials can prove that this time things will be better, remember to reserve the top floor of the Royal Sonesta for the mayor, lest he be forced to actually hobnob with the people who put him in office, billions of dollars spent on a levee that still has holes, but hey, nobody lives on the downside anymore anyway , where those streets are still paved with microbes and refuse, where shotgun shacks still bear the day-glo symbols of someone else's nightmare, redemption is just a few threatening clouds away, so roll in with the morning tide, and blow baby, blow. carly bryson - 2008
2:29 AM
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18 Comments - 18 Kudos
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Friday, August 22, 2008
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Poem - April
Category: Writing and Poetry
*Entrant in contest for The Writer's Corner Myspace poetry group
April
The smell of betrayal
still putrifies the air
on certain days of the year
I would rather forget,
yet it hangs like the humid
backwash of a toxic cloud
lingering on my skin
branding my subconscious,
and spring has no colors
other than carmine rage
thermiting tender flesh,
there are no fragrant blooms,
just the sadness of lost eyes
looking at droplets of rain
pelting the window's glass,
soon the azaleas will perish
in the early summer sun,
and I'll peer out once more
at what April has left behind.
carly bryson - 2008
9:49 PM
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8 Comments - 14 Kudos
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Wednesday, August 20, 2008
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Poem - 3 am refugee
Category: Writing and Poetry
3 am refugee
three am pacing
back and forth
shuffle, feet ,shuffle
who is that?
paranoia doesn't strike deep,
it floats across the surface
like an oil stain on a calm sea
face in the mirror too pale
but thin, goddamn
as thin as a sugar wafer
without the filling
no sweetness here,
a sweaty salty seadog
cur, bitch,fur flinger
the face turns,
tinted lilac
it would wilt in the sun
we are like mole people
who peek through blinds
searching for shangri-la
tired as a thousand refugees
swam ashore
the landed beach
day has to rise
before we can sleep
carly bryson - 2008
4:35 AM
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14 Comments - 14 Kudos
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Friday, August 15, 2008
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Poem - Speculation
Category: Writing and Poetry
Speculation If I put these words aside
to be read in twenty years,
will I even be alive enough
to remember the muse,
or will I be
fishing my dentures
from a glass of water
sitting stale on the nightstand,
staring down at bony knees
devoid of cartilage,
ruminating over the fact
that I once had taut thighs
since crocheted with loose
flesh and dotted veins,
will I sulk that relatives
only visit on holidays
and grandchildren complain
of peculiar smells and
creepy kisses on cheeks,
will I inform them
that I too once wore skirts
up to my ass and knew what
it was like to feel like every
adult was an idiot
and in a million years
no one would ever understand
the unrelenting pain of my youth,
will I ramble on
the same stories over and over
like my grandmother did
once her mind had lost it's mojo
and she giggled at statements like
"wine makes you feel fine"
while we rolled our eyes
and prayed for an early release,
will I shrug off obligatory phone calls
find solace in a good book
and a hot cup of tea
or just gaze out of the window
with misty catarrhytic eyes,
unweaving memories with platitudes
while wishing for just a little more time. carly bryson - 2008
7:51 PM
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23 Comments - 18 Kudos
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Sunday, August 10, 2008
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Poem - A Stronger Seed
Category: Writing and Poetry
A Stronger Seed
The seed pods
sit idle in the midday heat,
shriveled raisin-like, subservient,
beneath the soil, listless
waiting, waiting
dependent on the sun's mercy
and a dropperful of rain.
The farmer of the small field,
looks out across his land,
and the larger one across the road
owned by a conglomerate
that promises a larger yield
with the funding to fulfill,
but the seeds are not real
their dna modified,
the secret in the promise
concealed,
And the people, too busy to notice,
push their carts through the produce section
stuffing their bags
with mutant corn and peas,
to fill their bellies and their children's
with nothing but a future of illness
and disease,
The FDA, might as well be the CIA,
as covert as their actions are,
making it quite okay
to sell a hundred years of plants and grain,
that will live through tornados
and the backlash of hurricanes,
modified to resist the insectidice
that lives inside their molecules,
killing for profit, enriching the rich
and they don't even have to tell you.
The farmer of the little field
spends a few hours a day
wondering if he should have chosen
another profession,
trying to protect his crops,
but it doesn't matter
because across the road
lie the stronger seeds,
that never want for rain,
and the wind blows
across the meadows
every single day.
carly bryson - 2008
3:23 PM
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15 Comments - 18 Kudos
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Poem - A Killing Wind
Category: Writing and Poetry
A Killing Wind
The tanks rolled again
toward someone's
version of freedom,
when winter came,
the ground covered in snow and glass,
hungered for the color of poppies,
replaced by thorn in stone,
the sky
tinted with daisy cutters
and gunmetal gray
fell to Earth,
danced in on
blue-white smoke,
the gusts of a killing wind.
carly bryson - 2008
6:00 AM
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20 Comments - 24 Kudos
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Saturday, August 02, 2008
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Poem - Fly
Category: Writing and Poetry
Fly
Your elegy escapes me.
How can I write about
air flying through hands?
I reach out to grasp it,
but the errant fly
has wings always
faster than flesh,
and the jar where I
capture you,
stands empty on the
dresser shelf.
carly bryson - 2008
6:34 AM
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11 Comments - 16 Kudos
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Tuesday, July 29, 2008
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Poem - Black Dresses
Category: Writing and Poetry
Black Dresses
My great great grandmother
wore black dresses to her ankles
in the mountains of Carolina;
one photo is all I have of her
standing with a hill in the background,
looking like Gertrude Stein;
I heard she could make a mean
pan of fry bread,
but I'm pretty sure cubists and poets
were not really on her mind.
carly bryson - 2008
11:55 PM
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26 Comments - 25 Kudos
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Friday, July 25, 2008
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Poem - Dragonfly
Category: Writing and Poetry
Dragonfly
She was a tranquil girl,
the wings of a dragonfly
skittering gently
across the manicured lawn;
a neighbor boy sat her on his knee
playing games mother couldn't see,
once his hand went too far
and she learned the value
of urgency;
running down the alley
jumping the worn wooden fence
breathless and adrenalined,
wanting to blurt out
words that said too much;
but dragonflies only flit,
easily captured or crushed,
she flew to her room
face flushed, pretending
to look out the window,
and not a glass jar.
carly bryson - 2008
6:49 PM
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16 Comments - 16 Kudos
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Thursday, July 10, 2008
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Poem - August
Category: Writing and Poetry
If April is cruel,
August must be malignant;
the earth not only forgot,
she turned her back
disinheriting
the brick red sand
crackled and lined
like apricot seeds,
devoid of moisture
nurturing nothing,
even the thin blades of
wheaten grass,
strain through asphalt
cracks, like the thirsty
tongue of a desert hobo,
peering upward
into a heartless sky;
yet the garden
where year-round
the grounds are kept
in tip-top shape,
sprinkler drenched
every morning,
where the star gazers
and irises retain
their hue in August,
and the weeping
carpet grass seems
to laugh at the
weedy road,
it lies complacent
in it's comfort;
the afternoon wind
rolls in like a dust monsoon,
the scavenger grass leans
deep into the cracks,
while the watered blooms
drown in their own mudbaths,
while the dry dirt drinks,
the lilies still sway strong.
carly bryson - 2008
7:01 AM
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23 Comments - 22 Kudos
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