Various Val Poems

Newly restored...

Patient Word Strings
March 4, 2006 / 10:03 pm

My poems aren't patient word strings
To be worn like Mama's pearl necklace
To be passed down and kept in a velvet-lined box
My poems are not patient word strings


King Koopa Inspired Rage
January 10, 2006 / 5:40 pm

My sister gets so angry that she throws things
When we were kids we had a Nintendo
She hates to lose anything
King Koopa inspired a rage in her that had to be expressed
Expression for my sister is flinging whatever is in hand
At the nearest wall
(In this case, a controller circa 1985)
After countless admonishments she beat her thigh with her fist instead
Now that she is older she can throw whatever she wants
And she does.


Street Signs
February 2, 2006 / 10:48 pm

Your very good
Sometimes
And me?
Never
You watch Bill Murray
Like he's a god
Rewinding and fast forwarding
VCR tapes until they're grainy
And I draw street signs
On margins, even as I
Write this poem I'm doing it
Your laughing and I'm
Getting lost in your smile
Again
That's the reason for the signs
You know?


A RT Kind of Love
February 2, 2006 / 11:22 pm

We have a Margot and Richie thing going on
Stepping off buses
Eyes meeting
Me making small talk
You smiling
No one knowing
Anything about it
Rooftop reading and
Secret cigarette smoking
Vodka in tall glasses
And you.


Jenn-Jenn
October 12, 2005 / 10:28pm

We grew up together.
Now your married
and pregnant
and I'm sure your child
will be the most attractive
one I've ever seen.
And there's not a memory
in my mind that doesn't
include you.
I am always here.
Always.
And that won't ever change
no matter how many times
you push me away or
hurt me because I love you
and you know me better than
anyone else on Earth and
I'm too old to bond like that again.
Aside from the blood we share,
experience strings us together forever.
There isn't anything you could do
to make me break it.
So, here's my poem to you:
the girl I always wanted to be,
my cousin, my friend, and my hope.


What My Mom Would Say
October 17, 2005 / 4:56 pm

My mother is dead
She's been dead a long time
It seems like just a blink of an eye
And there I was sitting with her
Laughing with her
Crying with her
But it's been a long time
And things will never go back
To how they used to be
And I can remember every day
That I shared with her
And it changes nothing
So forever I am here
Alone and feeling like I'm nothing
I can't change the way I feel
And I can't change the way I am
I can't change my situation
And I can't change my location
So, sometimes I wait here
For the death that will take me home
And sometimes I feel like
I can do anything
I'll keep going down this path remembering
What my mom would say to all this:
Keep doing the things you've been doing and
You'll keep getting the things you've been getting


If We Ever Meet, You Pick the Place
Ocotber 12, 2005 / 3:15 am

Today I woke up half-asleep
I was still dreaming of you
Your identity you keep
A secret and I don't know what's true.

What I do know is that I love you
I know that sounds crazy
But your eyes that are blue
Leave my mind hazy.

I'm not sure I have seen you in real life
I can't place your fine face
But I know I'd be your wife
If we ever meet, you pick the place.

Until then I'll keep dreaming
Closing my eyes against the reality
Sleeping and seeming
Strong but I'm dying in my fraility.


Wonderful
September 25, 2005 / 2:58 pm

I have looked at you out of the corner of my eye
For weeks
But we didn't speak till yesterday
There was an awkwardness in the air
And when you finally did talk it was forced
And it felt wonderful
Wonderful to be wanted again, desired
Wonderful to cause a man to doubt himself
Wonderful to fidget and let my eyes roam
And I never realised what a wonderful face you have
A strong nose, high cheeks, dark eyes
But when you smile it's heavenly
I felt like I was being let in on your secret
And last night I dreamed of this secret
And it felt wonderful


Empty
December 28, 2003 / 3:17 pm

That's it.
I'm so full I'm empty.
I'm drained.
I think my heart just deflated
I'm sinking.
Sinking into the nothingness.
That's where I'm from
Only fitting that I perish there.
Yes, I know this has killed me
My soul is leaving my body
Floating even farther down
For surely I haven't made peace with my demons.
I died too soon.
And now I'm going to Hell.

Maybe it won't be so bad.
Maybe I'll get that tan I always wanted.
Maybe I'll meet my soulmate
Because that person doesn't exist on Earth.

That's my luck.
I have a soulmate
But he's in Hell.
The story of my life.


I'm Sure
September 12, 2005 / 6:38 am

He uses sex against her.
I'm sure.
And she seems to be under a spell while around him.
I'm sure.
And he can't seem to leave her alone for a second.
I'm sure.

I'm sure of his intentions
And I'm sure of his dependence
And I'm sure of his craziness
I'm sure.

I'm sure she won't leave him.
I'm sure she can't forget who they used to be.
I'm sure she doesn't need me to remind her
That he is trash and insane.

I'm sure that she will cry a thousand tears.
I'm sure that he has hit her.
I'm sure that she thinks she can't do better.

I'm sure that he'll kill her.
Maybe not her body
But he'll slowly kill her mind
until she is nothing but a receptical for his lust.
I'm sure.


Three O'Clock
July 15, 2004 / 6:38 pm

He said that most of the day is over by three o'clock
I don't agree
I was sleeping until three
The day began at three for me
And why shouldn't it
if I was up till six writing wild poems and singing to a tired radio?
And if most of the day was over when I woke up
what was the point of waking?
Why didn't he let me sleep?

He said that the day was prettiest before three o'clock
Well, thank you sir for telling me
What do I care?
I was dreaming of my soulmate
that we had finally met
and were living in a house above a river
where fishes jump on hooks and dogs stay puppies forever
And if the day was prettiest before I woke upwhy is the sun out and the grass green?
Why are the birds singing?


Orange Like Pumpkin Pies
October 4, 2004 / 10:53 pm

Leaves fall in my face
Ginger and yellow drops
Of Autumn goodness

And I feel orange
Like pumpkin pies and
Warm fires and jelly beans

The world is dying and
It seems to want to
And I seem to want to
Along with it
To be born anew in Spring
Green to the world
Forgetting all my experiences


I Still Want You
September 19, 2004 / 10:46 pm

I still want you
Will that ever change?
Your voice alone can make me shiver
Let alone your eyes and hands and runner’s body
And I can tell you think
That I’m all about books
I’m not
I’m all about finding my place
And if my place is with you
I want to be there

So, I still want you
How could I doubt it anyway?
It’s been over a decade
Since we first met and I feel the same
Nervous, shaking, inside quaking
And the feelings are simple
When I imagine my future husband
It’s you
When I see the man I want kids with
It’s you
It’s always you
I always come back to you


June 17, 2005 / 10:53 pm

I’ve been filling my days with cards
And my nights with you
For weeks now

Solitaire, Rummy, Go Fish
Whatever it takes to pass the time
Until I can be with you

Dreams come fevered now
I’m a hot, sweaty mess
For you now
For weeks now


Things That Have Been Gone Long
Ocotber 14, 2002 / 11:50 pm

All my life I've been trying to get back home
Just now realized that place is gone
No more soft grass, blue skies, or that willow tree
Just lights that drown out the stars, concrete as far as the eye can see
Can't say I regret all my choices or mistakes
They are the things that led me to this place
Not just this location but in my life
Led me to want to be strong, crave to be a wife
Turned me on to lyrical poetry, gave me insight
Lent me courage to battle injustice and love for the fight
No one can ever say that I did what I thought was wrong
Still I keep holding on to things that have been gone long


Someplace Else
July 16, 2004 / 12:36 pm

There is a TV on somewhere in the house
A fan blowing on my face
A dog barking next door
And I am someplace else

I am in the Bahamas sipping margaritas
and smiling at young waiters
or maybe I'm in the mountains sitting in a jacuzzi
shivering in the cold and laughing at the snow

I'm in a library
reading about life on Easter Island
or maybe I'm in California
with one of my two soulmates

Where ever I am
I am not here
I am not alone
I am someplace else


Blank Paper
October 28, 2004 / 11:36 pm

Blank paper blinding me
Day in, day out
Ideas burst from my mind
Only to die, shriveling, in the light
I am Time's running joke
The girl who never has time for anything
Yet never gets anything done
Every night I hear the laughter
Death is on my heels now
Challenging me to accomplish
Something before I die

Can I handle the pressure?
Or will I become the split
Image of my mother,
Dying before I leave something
Behind to be remembered by?


Return My Muse!
September 12, 2005 / 3:15 pm

Here's a small excert from a poem I wrote called "Return My Muse!". I'm not posting the whole thing because it really needs work but I like these lines.

...He is my muse
Not my love's fuse
When he toys with me
I write true poetry
So let his face return to my view
Or in his place send some muse new...


Her
July 16, 2004 / 1:16 am

"I should go" you say
after throwing on a gray sweat shirt
I say "Why are you still married?"
I cover myself with the sheet
but what's the point?
You already know every inch of my body
I shouldn't have any modesty after what we just did
Together

And you just avoid my question
by tying your shoes and coughing
Finally you look at me
I imagine I look pretty damn good
A woman looks her best after an orgasm or two, you know
And you look like a god
Standing over me in jeans and a sweat shirt
And I can't help but want you
Even though your wedding ring glints in the lamp light
"I really have to go. She's expecting me"
"I know, dear"
But you don't go
You kiss me and it turns into sex
Sex better than I've ever had
With anybody

And your sweat shirt is on the shelf
And the sheet is on the floor
And we are both gloriously naked
Searching for the moment when we will both forget
about Her.


Open Window
July 13, 2004 / 4:24 am

There it was: an open window.
An invitation to jump.


I Was Born in 1985
July 17, 2004 / 7:43 am

It seems to me that the last great poets were born in the Twenties
Oh! What I would give to be born in the Twenties...
F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald
The Great Gatsby

I was born in 1985
Slinkies and neon shorts
The Carebears

What is there to write about amid that?
What of love and romance?
They're dead along with fashion.
And passion
And how can someone be inspired by MTV?
or VH1 or whatever station makes you feel like somebody

Words just don't blend as well as they used to
They don't fit like puzzles
They are smacked together
like poorly manufactured Happy Meal toys
and it makes me sick to know
that I am part of the problem
I can smack words together better than anyone I know
I can resemble a poet better than anyone I know
But I'm not a poet
At least not a very good one
I was born in 1985
and what is there to write about amid that?


 

Reviews

[Steven Szepietowski]

I love the line "my poems aren't patient word strings". Such a statement says so much, in both emotion and personality of the writer too. But the imagery invoked from this that poems are not possessions, they are art so to speak, and that like necklaces they are passed down generations and kept in nice and secretive places. But they aren't. From this I get a very paradoxical meaning of the poem, where your poems are not to be passed on, or stored in anywhing. Still is what makes this more deep is the reference of the mother's necklace, and how conversely your poems are not that. and that makes you feel? That perhaps is to be addressed at a later time. Overall I think it is marvelous

[Shawn Jahaffie]

Szepietowski had valid things to say on all the poems and I agree with him. Amazing how each consecutive poem retains the vigor and sentiments of the one before it.

[JC]

i really dig your poems, they are very refreshing and dont dwell on the negative too much, and if it is a negative you seem to be able to spit it out in a humourous easy way, i like the way they come out as a rumble of thought, sometimes with no break, just swinging from your mind and dropping onto the page, really creates the image in my mind...havent read all of them yet, but i'll def. do so.

[Ross Davison]

Your peices "Three O'Clock" and "Her" are fantastic! Both have a stark diary beauty that is chilling at the same time clean and sober. Excelent work!!

[Steven Szepietowski]

I would change the 4th line of the first section. That would make it flow better. I like it very much, except for the pessimism of the ending!

[Steven Szepietowski]

WHAT MY MOM WOULD SAY

Just a great great piece, It's haunting, and emotionally taut.

[Kristi Brooks]

I really like the collection, it's got a lot of shining moments in it. I also liked the 1984 poem, although, having been born in 80 I actually do have a poem about a Care Bear...lol

[Steven Szepietowski]

jenn-jenn-

THis is a fitting tribute to your friend. It speaks of great loyalty, but also hints that things between you aren't always hunky Dory. But other strong feelings are felt here, and I think that's wonderful.

[Steven Szepietowski]

A RT KIND OF LOVE

clever title. Again, narrative style of things happening, which is descriptive. This is an activity with someone that was fun, and it does sound like fun."and you" says it all, about what you can walk away knowing is that there must be some kind of relationship going on here. Very much inspired from The Royal Tenenabaums(which is a great movie). Is this poem about RIchie and Margot, or is it about the "we" you used in the beginning, being you and someone else. That is the great mystery of this poem for me.

[Steven Szepietowski]

STREET SIGNS

This is such a great poem! Its narratively driven to a point. I like that the reader almost feels like they are inside the action. Like we're bystanders to this little glimpse of life. There's a large amount of movie imagery, with Bill Murray, and the VCR tapes. THese objects rev up the imagination while you're reading it. I feel right in there with whatever may be going on. Didn't I say you sounded like whitman?

[Steven Szepietowski]

KING KOOPA INSPRED RAGE
This poem depicts the relationship you must must have had as kids. It all seems put on her, how she could throw nintendo controllers, but now she throws what ever she wants. THat makes the read curious as to what she may be like now. I can't see the "king koopa" defense holding up in court, but lets hope it never gets that serious! It was very funn to me at least