Two sm;)es.

 

 

 

There was a time you could

drink `unpasteurize milk

right out of the cows

a*s hole and you wouldn't

wind up in the emergency room

wailing. Quit crying

unreasonable syllogisms/

life does all its good glowing

in the dark. Stuff your altered-self

with mood rings and the

vestigial remains of Ouija

boards until your walrus charm

is broken. Love (i've been told)

will make you crazy. Ask anyone in love

and they will tell you how it (love)

might waif up into the flapping sky

as tiny crackling balls

like the ceiling stuccoed in

August. Next you know,

you hang off of things like

Buchenwald jewels. Stop fooling

yourself that the other is pleased.

Shadows are the few things left

you please without obligation.

"For ungodly reality gives us the

beautiful either not at all or

once only" Nietzche said

in that bearded picture of him

crippled with lust. Something in

you wants to remember. Let it;

in the reasoned house doffed

of green  alluring,

or the meadow green of those

helpless   little green turtles

we kept clinging to life

in the petri dish. Yes,

the same ones who longed for the warm sand;

 

longed for the sea.

 

Reviews

[m.s.early]

There was a time you could drink `unpasteurize milk right out of the cows a*s hole and you wouldn't wind up in the emergency room wailing.

The disdain in the first line plants the mood for following emotions of revolt and cynicism. To hell with love and its side affects until the walls of isolation built with bricks of solitude are too much to bear.

[Carl Drake Barnard]

Hehe it is official i love your writing :) The depths,the honesty that sweet bitter texture luring over ones heart. You loved As I loved And we long. That my sister is why I love this. The honesty you shared nothing but worthy admiration :) A real good loving piece :) RR me when you want me to read something And I will asap :)
Thanks for sharing :)

[AprilRN1210]

I was recommended your writing by a friend of mine, and I have to say I really enjoyed this piece.. I love your tone.. the sarcasm, the sassy attitude and the flow were impeccable and entertaining as hell.. not only is this witty it makes you think... the use of language, the phrasing, and the organization of thought were quite brilliant... It made me giggle and shake my head throughout.. well done!

[Emily B]

maybe i was crazy before i ever fell in love

maybe love didn't do that at all

[W.k.kortas]

Despite the images that hearken back to another time--cow's milk from a thanks-but-no-thanks spigot, mood rings, Ouija boards--this is obviously no moist nostalgia piece. What is remarkable about this and the run of your writing (well, beside the virtuoso use of the language in general) is the ability to take ideas and images from what would seem to be wholly different spheres of our experience and blend them together with what would seem to be the greatest of ease. It's something to be envied, and something to be enjoyed even more.

[Cory Barrett]

I am always excited to read your work. It challenges me in so many ways. Half the time i feel like a
ding-a-ling, because my vocabulary suffers from erectile disinfection and i have to go find some help. But i always learn something from you. This one... i am left with a feeling of in-completion, a sense that no matter how good we remember it being... it will never be that good.... it never was that good. And as always you are such a good writer.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i kept checking off things as i read this...yes, yes, yes, yes,

we drank milk straight from the cow back in Vermont when i was a kid.
had weird experiences ( a couple of them) with a ouija board...and have been driven to the edge of crazy by love...
and those little green turtles..had many of them.

i longed for pastures, my green sea.

you wrote me here, dana.
wow.

[Tree]

The anti love poem, who doesn't need this to counter balance the zaniness. For that thing they call love is first and foremost (I think our resident scientists will agree to this) a drug, and the drug addict sometimes needs to be treated accordingly, even, harshly. Because it's true, people in love occupy their own personally created planes that like wacky web sites don't always speak to everyone, or, might be a language others don't or can no longer understand. That thing love does move in and out of us like breaths of air, or flat out possession; the two smiles? And yeah, people in real love are greedy, keep upping the ante wanting more, needing the other to be "pleased" .. who wants to be High all by themselves?
This is the exhale poem, reminding that love junky that most of the time, only the shell will remain.
There was plenty of imagery to take in inside this read. and I liked that finish, too. When I read it I thought about the old cliche the grass is alway greener on the other side, but this here was inter/multi dimensional. You could feel it. The warm sand, Vs the Sea.



Good to have you back.