Hey I wrote a poem I'd like to share with you. This is not strictly "blog material" per se, but maybe it is, and it is related to music, so heres my story.
My poem was really fucking directly inspired by a poetry book called "American Trashcan" by John Wesley Coleman, that came with a CD release (I believe) on Monofonus Press.
That may be untrue, but what is definitely true is that JWC aka Wes is a guitarist in the Golden Boys, and when my friend Chris bought the new Golden Boys vinyl, he was given this book as an added gift. I read some of it at his house, really liked it, and he let me borrow it and I read the rest of it at home. It was also good because I was "freaking out" and there was some words in the poetry which said "its OK to freak out once in a while" so that took "freaking out" off the list of things i was freaking out about, which in turn really helped me untangle some things in my brain. Also his poetry is really funny.
Here's two of my favorite of Wes's poems from the book and then my own. His poetry is reprinted without permission, but I'm assuming its OK, and also, if you are smart and have some change lyin around you will go buy the book, or if you are even slightly more savvy, go to a Golden Boys show, get the record, and ask for the book of poetry free of charge. Also, these aren't strictly speaking "representative" of the book, they are just ones I really like.
"UNTITLED"
I HAVE a Girlfriend
Don't FORGET why?
You pee your pants
"MY DOG'S BUTT"
My Dog's Butt stinks.
I feed her bananas,
tortillas, bratwursts
turkey franks, Ramen
noodle, beer, cheese,
egos, syrup, shrimp fried rice,
cheeseburger, french fries, tea,
light bulbs, boots, shoes,
eyeglasses, cell phones, toilet paper,
toothbrushes, underwear, socks,
cassette tapes, compact discs,
Records, artwork, lyric sheets,
twenty dollar bills, DVDs, videocassette,
dishes, mattresses, pillows,
objects, dog food - Puppy Chow,
my soul. She drinks my tears
too, I am 29 years old and
my dog was born on Christmas
and is one year old or seven
in dog years.
There is also an awesome picture on the next page that goes with this one.
This one here is my poem. Its called "63, 81, 63, 81, 63, 81". If my bandmates let me, I will start doing some variation during this new Reverse X-Rays song, and maybe we will come out with a new record sometime and I will get to put it in poem form in the liners somewhere, since otherwise it will never see "release" given the fact that I will never write enough poems to even make my own DIY book of poems. And I tend to hate zines with poems in it. Also, I dont care if this is "good" or not, but i do hope you like it!
"63, 81, 63, 81, 63, 81"
63, 81, 63, 81, 63, 81
Take refuge in the imaginary
numbers
Don't limit your communications to words,
but communicate with words,
imaginary words,
and also
imaginary numbers
It is fascist to start every line, of
Everything
With a capitol letter,
But people used to do that
Because
The king liked it.
They had to Fight For Their Right To Party
and also to start lines of poetry with lower case words.
and numbers.
this must be the place....goin strong , yeah baby!!!
Saturday, February 14, 2009
John Wesley Coleman // I wrote a poem
This in from
Ervin Berlin
at
8:10 PM
Labels:
John Wesley Coleman,
Monofonus Press,
poetry
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ReplyDeletebut those numbers are real!
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Your poem is very metapoetic slash metalinguistic. I've often found that when you write poems like that the effect is lost in it being read aloud. It's a lot more about the logic you put in the word placement and syntax. English major alert end.
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