Performed by Allison Kampf
Turning the wheel, by Melissa Chaconas
we are close our car doors
in anger
we shop in frustrations
we give up hope all the time
we remember in primordial love
We run around in
costumes, masks,
we are stuck
we walk hard
we clean hard
to make the pain
disappear
dwell in a
place
in the bottom.
branch out on words
pivot the approach he prophecy
relentlessly the part
dreamed old- piece of night
that transformations between me
first word- last love
intricately organic beyond
reason strange
benediction lesson
mailbox wrath welcome letter picnic
father instructions
confidential hemorrhage
signal child
to
economist’s old clothes
mask of supper
daughter bring
mean careless love
quality between
this questioned
world
silence your science green gods.
flowers fall grimmer grammer in
house- railed- un-withered
the approach to
upstairs
-the thief
of end- when will it end?
goose eat- what eat goose?
&
dragonfly- ?
lamplight covers
scourged head down
hermetic
reader
writer
down
in class
summing up meditation
a testing spark
journal old cracked curtain (belongs to someone else)
to portrait
the illumination of dynasty
w/ red breasted robin
road of summer river solstice
build report gladiator of the system
around 3 floors- flights to the king cleoparta
tree-please teach Dante
layeREd knots unknown nights
catch cage- portents contents fire-sticks
Lincoln’s death
quarrel w/ six
sisters
route the unquiet ones
layer snakes of
September
image maker
make we
abduction to 1914
foreboding my
poet rounds
ill pass on the
boat
whale through
chariot rides
to the house
of mother’s
pearls
comet
autumn
comes
commit on
lamentation-
the sea
touch me
never
begin
w/
beethoven
expected
music-
not to you
but it acts
of old photos retouched
signed great
us-
we are close our car doors
in anger
we shop in frustrations
we give up hope all the time
we remember in primordial love
We run around in
costumes, masks,
we are stuck
we walk hard
we clean hard
to make the pain
disappear
dwell in a
place
in the bottom.
I pull down the mountain with my hands
I stare at the page
Clouds float thri=ough fast
And I try ti scranbke down electronically the WORDS
With one hand while thee other holds my body and muse separate but together
Who will fall from above higher learning?
on stones to the garden AND
Lay me down open the flower that has rough petals
That droop and sting as hot as lava
Scratch with nails at the wood cardboard like thin sheets that block the climb-through
That led to the rusty monkey bars where I first tied to speak poetry to non-listeners….
Ivy n word old loneness’ filled my heart with ferment fulfillment was it foul ? but other girls n boys
Didn’t like it there
And sometimes before the sun would set I would feel the on-lookers stare N wonder again
Since my birth
repeatedly
Are they a poet or just an other bore!~
I want to take this poem to the grocery store and speak to it by the veggies
And be a commercial-photo op for people to SPEAK to children
But the Stanley & Sylvia, Stephen, Zbigniew and Lowell and Bhagavad-Gita
Won’t show up with billboards or push-in pins with signs as pens
Not for the coke-head/heroin accident of my day that recites 1960’s work
And shakes like a snake in the alley.. “umm…yeah like yeah”
U can twist the reachin into vibrations of the
The voice maybe
But the printed holds more truth than drama from an non-actor/actress
I want to call
I want to nestle the breast of cookies n milk
Until you scream im gay sometimes but always
Or should I write a poem for u everyday
Because you don’t SPEAK to others but bu but but
This silly Greek girl knows you
The Latino needs curry-chicken he thinks from a goddess but not
Dad u sold the house of my childhood to liars
I don’t want to work for the government
I want to be like aunt penny’s baby’s daddy
And go live in California work at a library on Sundays
Do idle work for money
Live in a house that gypsy n I write so our minds diont blow
The body follows happiness
I once was a happy body-able mind too
When I was following it
Will you still accept your daughter when she doesn’t talk?
Verbally
But
just publishes work/play/love to little birds who carry or are messages from the others
if I go— will I turn-off my cord
unplug my comfort n
dance when hungry
father of our country ill fated
disgraced to be civilian
go lay in a rustic bed
of a poor king- abandoned by
the powerless-
buy- touching
Pope
He loved the toil of making
this true again 4 how many
more years
tree-trunk officers- hollow hands
full length misery of situations
gone beyond help
make 4 good donuts,
bBig tears 4 men without utility belts
“Do to you ask the peace from me 4 those
whose lives were taken by the cast of Mars”
Where are the warrior girls who
also debate w/any?
dances as she turns to
shoot the aim of armless
one-breasted bows
arrows
formulated from
of lost cities
intermitted with
blazing lamenting
wordless weapons
ashy
ashed
seas
“Dawn at that hour
brought on her kindly light
for ill mankind,
arousing men to labor & distress”
morning kind light
made her that hour
what cab in can she animate
the action before sexually waken up
the action that sways men to wages and physical trouble in search of evening satisfactory- its unforunate that mankind
can not be without reference to sex
at what hour will her light look at the beginning?
This old-timely body of
underneath gloom
un foundation in men
hurled swine
herd death in commandeered positions
heated up the stove
but no reaped-up climax
the hope- trembles in same
time
the queen entreaties
the mounds of
trust-faithly hounds
the palpable eyes-
the inner enjoined scepter
we say him trying to lay
tendering our gifts but
with a war- father in gripped
rough hands
“what happened to disturb your
quiet life?”
Dominance in Greeks is our
strange taste that
often lends to exile
others don’t hear
what makes the
royal mildew groan
and roar/
cloaked in mothballs
scattered
old lord – raised- flash
of electroitity
ragged flame
a trip through breathing hard chest
still greater loving
flying immortal energy
watch distances-while still
I want to be
kindness stained
groan with quickness
at your intellect
-tired yet full
of your shoulders
of mankind
penetrate through instruments
gave his life
spearing all heads
great welcoming torso
pull glory out of it & spoke,
speak need the passage
Daughter Straddle
The
Saddle oracle
“shedding hot tears”
drunken bend crossing T’s in hope
of Pro’s
Prose
Poetry
danced
separate
spins
pastured herbs
heal the
frenzied
blow of a if done by
a
bitten tongue
“to find peace in the sea”
A girl now ripe
digital short-story of
a fruitious woman
deep in an inner
soiled down in an inherent
with humming
thunder
along came hustling, popping.
BLAST
it seemed her
her act it was
impressed-stimulated
stirred, tenderly new fangled in
her the noiselessness
admonition
there
bent over
walking with long white alien legs
slow on the toes
walking on blue earth
earlier the
sisters
gone
of
grammer
mistaken
stayed without them
as out of line ones
are
bedridden
bored maybe in
ivy-cross-woven laced chariot-nests
(rocking back n forth)
shapED like
long W’s.
I pick the burrow
but there’s nothing left
to pick- brown greenish earth mud swirls around
down the
rabbit hole
– I pick anyway
and the earth bleeds… I
stop in painful shame and
I too feel the hurtful burn
of uncertainty.
I’m fine 4 a while then
I’m fire 4 A while THEN
I’m fine 4 a while then
then hours
later out of hateful habit
I take the scalpel &
look 4 something that isn’t here
I scan the walls
run my fingers over the
dried paint & mounds
of unseeable dirt
each
pile, bubble
different
but there lies a family, a unity
within the art of complexity
I want to pick at the old wounds
(at this house with no wind)
but I can’t reach them
there are far back &
my fingers are too big
I love the way the deep, dark, rooted, buried,
forgotten mahoganies
twisted
reddish-browns,
light tans,
rich chocolates
tangled
I love the way the deep, black, embedded,
forgotten wood soaks up
the forgiveness rain,
the “I miss you” rain,
the “I need this” rain,
the “I need to get out of this” rain,
the “new- beginnings” rain
the old, ancient,
moldy, “always here” wise wood
takes my place
and
s l o w l y
F U LL Y
drawing in
your understandings
and
s l o w l y
F U LL Y
drawing out
fluid
to water our seeds
to fill,
to replenish,
to purify
the magical,
complex,
vibrating,
rhythmic
core
I tattoo in black
ink the word
relax
(but
w/ a
S
because
S is
nicer, softer
than X
marks the
spot)
in ancient
text on fingers like henna
I forget to go to
the star, the
extraord9inary special
Jewels
4 ways to stuff
my dolphingates full
I need thriller results
no more making friends
laugh w/my painfully empty dates
I turn your letter inside out
rip the sides down to open a passage
and pound out soft dough
words not ready to go
mountain climbing or
bake bread 4 the hungry
Will a normal Halloween past by?
(why is that sentence strange with irony?)
Why is it a competition always
Who holds MORE
Pain? Actually I am
Pretty good w/ games
let me
give you
a great introduction
to my
silent veins
I plus
focus plus
lines from chemicals ? on my
hands
will my palm reader
lose another
baby or go
dancing with me?
A special rate.
We play
music all the
time but who
listens? Do we
feel each other? Or
Do we “goofball”
feed off
each other?
I rewrite
& fold & rewrite
mailing this letter to my conscious self
to go visit my unconsciousness self on the hills of challenges
sneed snotty
sneed seeds slip special slumber shelters
(4) social services
(that) stop
(because of)
scheming
Brown jumping autumn elphant accepted
By
green growth monster that slips away
brown baby Ganesh busting w/ bountiful energies for health and home and true boundaries and luck for businesses
Will I owe my own Business?
this rabbit hole
from clark & division to Roosevelelt and opposite reverse direction
U see is if inclined filled with inspiration
this letter is made out to me
from my mother who goes wondering with pear waves and pumpkins that empress kings and make Scarborough horrors melt away with universal loving open mommy arms
don’t stop
the scarps on your knees and loose knee caps
help you grow
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