WADING IN A ROCKY STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS–for d’Verse

I saw a Neanderthal in a pinafore…

Twice or more a year or so

my nose gets outta joint–

“The Roly Poly Poet”–I get no further

than that, you see, after so grand a title:

dead ends.

You poets out there know I’m sure

how sneaky words can pose a lure

in order to make you think

you’re on the very brink…

But some poems are dead ends,

never see the light of joyful welcome.

Sigh. We know it’s we who have

failed them.

Other poems  only lie on the dock

smelling fishy,,,

They do it  about twice a year now, as I said,

my words,  they want to play with me.

They jump into the dirt and roll, and

expect me to crawl in the mud after them–

which I do.  If I say thunder rattled

the window pane where does your mind

go next? I wrote a depressed poem called

“Down in the Mouth” and it was so bad

I wrote “Lighten Up,” both blessedly missing

from this diatribe.

“For shame, Alphonse,”

was my response when he suggested

a rendezvous–just we two. I got mad,

then sad, for though he was my sister’s

beau I always thought him cute, you know?

About Nan Mykel

I used to think I would be a child prodigy, but then I got old. Formerly I had fantasies of rubbing elbows with cultural and academic leaders but that did not come to pass because I did not become a cultural or academic leader or any other kind of leader, for that matter. I am not even an "Alpha Dog," a term learned from a friend who had to become "Alpha Dog" in order to influence her own pet. (When gazes lock, she never looks away.) For years I expected to become a published author, but in passing I could not avoid the fact that I had little to contribute to the world's bulging dumpsters. I'm embarrassed to report that I also considered my primary process artistic productions powerful, rather than mildly neurotic. Which is not to say that I disrespect myself, only that I am beginning to doubt my potential for making a mark on the world. If I focus on strict self discipline I may be able to keep my garbage removed on a weekly basis, to keep the kitty box changed, the clothes cleaned, the dog watered, fed and walked, but that just catches me up to the starting mark again. When writing I physically grapple with words, wrestling them from their indifference into attempted chunks of awareness. I sit heavily on my chair; I breathe in artificially cooled air; my ear drums note the tap tap of the keyboard and the steady uninterrupted sound of the air conditioner, What is that sound? The roar of the ocean from 30 yards away...Inside, my thoughts are are balls in an electronic game machine, bouncing hither and yon from lever to lever. I am a little grim and intent until I recall a dream related by a black man in the prison where I once worked. He said that when he was a small boy, back home, he dreamed he was standing on his front porch pissing, and that he suddenly found himself pissing stars...
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6 Responses to WADING IN A ROCKY STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS–for d’Verse

  1. robtkistner says:

    This was a captivating read Nan. Thank you for sharing it for OLN,

    Like

  2. Lona Gynt says:

    I love this fun and rollicking, and also quite tender Ars Poetica. I can so relate to:

    But some poems are dead ends,
    never see the light of joyful welcome.
    Sigh. We know it’s we who have
    failed them.

    Then the fish,and the mud and the thunder…! Nan, this is fabulous and visceral, and made me smile!

    Like

  3. Ah! It seems you linked this one up successfully. I didn’t go to the Dverse page and the Blenza for that post to check though.

    The linkup process for Dverse has been the same forever. The only difference is one has to remember to click on the box saying one understands the privacy policies of the site. I suggest you keep a note handy with the steps of the process so you don’t berate Dverse. I see you deleted the blog called ‘I Give Up’. It’s a start. An apology would be in order I think.

    Also, sheer good manners, is to provide a link from your post to the relevant Dverse site you link to. If you want instructions on how to do that, let me know and I’ll send it via email. It’s only fair. They promote our sites through their tremendous effort in keeping Dverse going under what must be difficult circumstances at times.

    Like

  4. lillian says:

    Oh Nan….LOVE LOVE LOVE this…..the line “I saw a Neanderthal in a pinafore…” where oh where did that come from? But that’s the point here, right, as a poet? We wrestle with words, ideas, they take us into the mud and sometimes…..sometimes we soar with them. This is brilliant! I so enjoyed it. It’s like we write….and then something else pops into the strand of thought and interrupts and where do we end up or where are we? Yup….homepoet……not a poet….rather a Neanderthal in a pinafore. 🙂

    Like

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