Poem: Cusswords


Fluff!

You fluffing piece of silk!
I’m so sick and tired of all your clouds – you sorry Bliss
Pack your bags and get the heart out of my dream house now
Right this fluffing minute!

You two-bit, jacked-up Pretty
You sorry little Bubble
You horrible self-centered Bliss
Dream you! Dream you! Dream you to heart!

I gave you all I fluffing had
And being the pathetic piece of silk that you are –
You ripped it all up with those big air hands of yours
Tore it all to shreds.
Stomped it out with those big air feet

So what was the point, you sorry Bliss-
You filthy two-faced Bubble?
What was the fluffing point?
When it all just ended up a silky heap of rubble on the dream floor?

So just sing my drink one last time
Then get the fluff out of my dream world for good.
You cowardly Bubble
Get the fluff out!

Poem: Holy Days Reborn


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Once upon a time
There was this virgin
Who gave birth to
The son of God.

So go to sleep now
And some fat guy’s
Gonna break in and bring you tons
Of plastic crap
You don’t need
Wrapped in shiny paper.

Then, a few years later,
Jesus popped up
From the dead
and said,“I’m alive!
Go find some eggs?”

And they all
[for the most part]
Lived
For-happily ever after.

Poem: Bumblebee Pee


See it must be a bee who leaked a pee on me
I surmised it kinda funny when the urine wasn’t runny
When I buttered up my tummy lapping up the bladder honey

It wuz becuz of the guzzle of the fuzz that made me buzz
Getting kinda tricky to lick up the icky sticky
The muck struck & stuck when my suck ran out of luck
Like bumblebee pee from a honeycomb

Then there was the sting of the black & yellow thing
With the swiftly shifting wings & the zing the stinger brings

Sick of the tickle of the fickle venom trickle
I slapped the massive gnat with a whack
With a flash-smack-attack
And smashed the sucker flat

Now I know not to go where the bumblebees blow
Thumping up & down & under like some otherworldly thunder
Hovering over one another
Unplugging honey udders
Full of bumblebee pee

I do open mics. Don’t tell anyone, but I actually created a loop of a Milla Jovovich [love her!] song from the Peopletree Sessions to run behind my reading for this. I never had the balls to perform this piece [with the music] in public. I shared it sans sample. But not with it. Not sure why I chickened out on it…

Poem: The Anti-Nothing


What lingers on the other side of nothing?
What squirms in the pit
Where blackholes dump their trash?
Spew their collections?
Bury their loot?

Slippery lip
Where the universe spills over its edge
Into somethingness
Anti-nothingness
Perfect newness

Colors hum there
Matter, mass
Fresh amoebas
Foreign, congealing
Into new music, novel mist

That random place where anti-dust & anti-heat
Implode & churn out anti-light
Anti-matter springs, unfolds
Anti-worlds & anti-words
Anti-poems, anti-songs

Anti-planets, anti-suns
Ante up in the anti-space
Where Auntie Em looks down in black & white
Swabbing the head with an anti-rag
Dipped in antique water

Anti-thoughts in the anti-mind
Swim around in the anti-time
Where far & near are upside down
Anti-pulsars spin around
In retrograde

The anti-wormholes are antebellum
Post-apocalyptic felons
Anti-war & anti-peace
Anti-teeth in anti-jaws
Speak anti-rules & anti-laws
While living anti-true & false

Pooling up & cooling down
In the land where life creates itself
To shake the known with quasar-quakes

Giving birth
On the inside of everything
Nothing included
Nothing reborn
As something

Poem: e. coli


Yield!

There was dis-ease throughout the barnyard
Everyone wanted more spinach & meat
“Yield! Yield!” cried the townsfolk.
“When pigs fly!” the farmer replied.

But he gave in anyway

So the swine flu overhead
and flooded the engine ears of corn
Which made a mad cow stomp & foam
from its hooves & mouth

Then a bird flu over the coop
and flocks of chicken pox
broke out of the henhouse
Their eggs all stolen
by an Asian weasel
with the German measles

Who ran down to the river
full of salmonella
Swimming & splashing
onto the roots of the beans

Which were closest to the patch
of potato tuberculosis
Growing in the freshly-sprayed soil
enriched with beta-quarantine

But none of this plagued
the people’s dreams
As they brandished pitchforks & spoons
demanding from their growling guts
“Yield! Yield!”
“Yield!”

Boss Me Around


::: Scowl :::

In honor of National Poetry Month, I organized years and years worth of my poetry into categories.

Now, I’m taking orders on what poems to reveal to the world during April.
The category with the most votes will determine what I post.

Don’t be scared. Go ahead and vote.

It’s like having your own Yes-Man to smack around.

Vote for Infection!


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Help me win some free autographed books and possible exposure to some agents?

All you have to do is “Like” or “Comment” [OR BOTH!] on entry #17 on this Facebook page. Please?

http://www.facebook.com/BackspaceAgentAuthorSeminar#!/BackspaceAgentAuthorSeminar/posts/403781676308502

$230K for My Writing!


Within the space of an hour, I received $230,000 for my writing!
[Sounds like a cheesy “Work From Home” commercial doesn’t it?]

Really, I did. Kind of.
Unfortunately, the cash isn’t legal tender.

It happened during the game of “Life” – $80,000 for writing a bestseller, then $150,000 for writing the great American novel. I’m not sure if they were the same book or not. Not wanting to be a one-hit wonder, I’m pretending each prize stemmed from separate novels.

If only Life was more like Ouija or a Magic 8 Ball. Then, I could definitely trust it to be an oracle… Then again, that would also mean I have Twins on the way, and “Tornado hits house! Pay $125,000 if not insured.”  That’ll cost me over half my royalties! (Unless I went the responsible route and paid the ten grand for the insurance. I didn’t.)

During this particular game of Life, I was the winner. I retired at Millionaire Estates and collected the additional “Life” cards. In my golden years, I won the Nobel Peace Prize – $250,000. Surely, this was the result of yet more phenomenal writing.

Looking back over my Life, I believe I know where all the success came from. Zooming along in my little white plastic car, wife at my side, twin boys in the back, I landed on a space that changed it all. “Mid-life crisis. Start new career.” Hmmm…

Now, the game is packed away. The spinner is stilled, and all the little pink and blue figures are piled in a jumpled mess at the bottom of the box. The idea and hope of successful writing is clinging to me out here in reality.

I’m still waffling over whether to include those writing accomplishments in my next batch of real-life queries. I might lead off with them in the opening paragraph. If I’ve learned nothing else, I know Life throws good and bad experiences at you when you least expect them. Why play if you’re not willing to take the risk? (Risk: That’s another game entirely…)

Really? Another Toy?


Screenshot – “Infection” Meta-Timeline

 

Once again, I find myself listening to the screams of a short piece demanding to be expanded. Apparently, my next novel is developing from a piece of flash-fiction I wrote last week. [Why won’t these ideas stay little–like I intend?]

Yesterday, I settled into my writing corner to begin sorting and congealing the hand-scribbled notes for “Infection”.  As though I needed yet another tool/distraction, the term “OneNote” rose from the recesses of my mind.

Something about authors using it to structure their notes… From a blog or something… Haven’t I seen OneNote on my laptop somewhere…?

Sure enough, I had. I recently purchased MS Office for the business, and OneNote was included in the suite. So, I stepped through the quick tutorial, and began playing with my new toy. A few hours–and twenty-five pages and subpages–later, the bulk of my notes were organized. I now have separate pages for individual character sketches, settings, major plot points, subplots, backstory, quotes, hyperlinks to research, timelines, etc.

Some of the functions are unwieldy and refuse to do what I need them to, but overall the program is great for the organization process. Now that the basic learning-curve-hurdle has been cleared, I’m ready to push onward to detail Infection to its limits before beginning the actual writing.

Already, I can see the advantages: quick stream-of-consciousness recording, sortable pages, graphics, auto-pasting of a web address when a copied item is inserted. I’m going to keep the organization via OneNote going, and see what I end up with. I’m excited to discover the pros and cons it holds as the project progresses.

There is a major fear creeping around the edges of my thoughts though: what if some other small idea starts stalking me before this one comes to fruition? Thankfully, I can just start up another OneNote Notebook for that.

Wait! That won’t help at all, will it? I’ll just have to keep a big, pointy stick by the laptop, then.