The official blog for the Pensacola New Poets Society.
We meet every Tuesday night at End of the Line Cafe'
for an open-mic Poetry(or Literature) reading.
Anyone can come and watch.
Anyone can come and read.
7pm to sign in
8pm we begin.
In Pensacola Florida we do a poetry slam at the End-of-the-Line Café. On Tuesday, I did this parody of another reader’s work; Trevor had read three pieces, where words were echoed 3 times, lambasting mankind, each taking us ever-lower, with no redemption at the end. I thought to myself, this guy needs to get laid. Therein lies the poem.
Forward: I borrow single words/ from Dylan to Trevor to Thomas. Only single words/ though lonely stolen/ do not belittle the thief! the gift is in your hand.
Fast Food Nation
We thought it was a drive by shooting But it was only McDonalds.. McDonalds.. McDonalds Drive through the Trevored Lane, in Super-Size the burger appears The Golden Arch.. The Grand Abyss; give us space that we may tumble.
In War and Peace there is none! As mothers leap from burning window Ancient bombers fall, fall.. flame into the night! Up Johnson Up! We search again but there is none.
What’s his name??? this baby in the bubble or the babble in the bottle? Look!! The hand is there, dismiss the Trevored word! In the wink of accordion love Pump the Iron Lung that we may find him. SQUEEZE THIS SEARCH!!!.. can you lend a hand? This most dire need, this winking need for love.. love.. for love.
SO I TELL HER.. Just Touch It.. touch his winky, winky winky. And then she screamed; in Lexicon Gallup I could not catch her.. and saw myself as old, and it was wrong, wrong these faded pages drifting in winkey wind. The cheeks of her ass going over the horizon and it was wrong!
So I poked my Wife and said: Can you help? She poked me back and said No!. No!. No One can help this man, but watch awhile… as Lepricons.. wait in winkey love.. to poke the trevored word... and sure enough, the clown lay strangled.. by Lepricon hands.. was it Ronald?.. or some other clown, as Trevor idles by..licking the chops of madness. Can you help?
And sure enough.. he pulls out another.. can you help? He pulls down his pants!!.. can he help it? Can you feel the need?.. the Rolling Balls of need? POINT THE TURBID FLESH! Can you see the end? The May Pole.. you say!?!
We marched in May and now its June, another child grown old, running round the pole to dance with maidens some with words and some in gesture but whirling.. all!.. on tightening rope.. round and round they all begin with O.. O.. O..
Pull back your hat, see what you have done! In rushing streams Dismantle the night! I am here! Stand in still water, and it is you! Roll my balls around the window and it is June! June! oh June!
It was then he saw the window.. Golden girl.. stared.. as if to a third eye.. She pulls back the burger, saying: “Is that a panty liner on your head?” She lowers her gaze, to where gaze always goes To vanish, as windows close.. in reflexion of the arch.. once again… Please pull forward…
Nations of hope and dream sputter away.. in low gear… and then.. to a stop. He pulls the liner, ever slowly to his eye.. In darkness, the Trevored voice returns.. this time in Brogue: “Were I to come on her face, or Leprican Lace.. Twood not wipe way the tears of my Father”. And in winkey blinkey love the eye closes to snuggle.. round the moment.. of dawn.
This is the official blog for all contributing members of NPS based in Pensacola, FL. Anyone is welcome to join as long as they've been present at one of our Tuesday Night Poetry Readings. We meet every week at End of the Line around 7pm, and the readings usually begin around 8pm. Participation is encouraged, but not required.
In Pensacola Florida we do a poetry slam at the End-of-the-Line Café. On Tuesday, I did this parody of another reader’s work; Trevor had read three pieces, where words were echoed 3 times, lambasting mankind, each taking us ever-lower, with no redemption at the end. I thought to myself, this guy needs to get laid. Therein lies the poem.
ReplyDeleteForward:
I borrow single words/ from Dylan to Trevor to Thomas.
Only single words/ though lonely stolen/
do not belittle the thief!
the gift is in your hand.
Fast Food Nation
We thought it was a drive by shooting
But it was only McDonalds.. McDonalds.. McDonalds
Drive through the Trevored Lane, in Super-Size the burger appears
The Golden Arch.. The Grand Abyss; give us space that we may tumble.
In War and Peace there is none!
As mothers leap from burning window
Ancient bombers fall, fall.. flame into the night!
Up Johnson Up! We search again but there is none.
What’s his name??? this baby in the bubble or the babble in the bottle? Look!! The hand is there, dismiss the Trevored word!
In the wink of accordion love Pump the Iron Lung that we may find him. SQUEEZE THIS SEARCH!!!.. can you lend a hand?
This most dire need, this winking need for love.. love.. for love.
SO I TELL HER.. Just Touch It.. touch his winky, winky winky.
And then she screamed; in Lexicon Gallup I could not catch her..
and saw myself as old, and it was wrong, wrong these faded pages drifting in winkey wind.
The cheeks of her ass going over the horizon and it was wrong!
So I poked my Wife and said: Can you help? She poked me back and said No!. No!. No One can help this man, but watch awhile…
as Lepricons.. wait in winkey love.. to poke the trevored word...
and sure enough, the clown lay strangled.. by Lepricon hands..
was it Ronald?.. or some other clown, as Trevor idles by..licking the chops of madness. Can you help?
And sure enough.. he pulls out another.. can you help?
He pulls down his pants!!.. can he help it?
Can you feel the need?.. the Rolling Balls of need?
POINT THE TURBID FLESH!
Can you see the end? The May Pole.. you say!?!
We marched in May and now its June, another child grown old, running round the pole to dance with maidens
some with words and some in gesture
but whirling.. all!.. on tightening rope..
round and round they all begin with O.. O.. O..
Pull back your hat, see what you have done!
In rushing streams Dismantle the night!
I am here! Stand in still water, and it is you!
Roll my balls around the window
and it is June! June! oh June!
It was then he saw the window..
Golden girl.. stared.. as if to a third eye..
She pulls back the burger, saying: “Is that a panty liner on your head?” She lowers her gaze, to where gaze always goes
To vanish, as windows close.. in reflexion
of the arch.. once again… Please pull forward…
Nations of hope and dream sputter away.. in low gear…
and then.. to a stop.
He pulls the liner, ever slowly to his eye..
In darkness, the Trevored voice returns.. this time in Brogue:
“Were I to come on her face, or Leprican Lace..
Twood not wipe way the tears of my Father”.
And in winkey blinkey love the eye closes
to snuggle.. round the moment.. of dawn.