bccwritingh (original) (raw)

Things That Get You Pregnant

missed pills
poor judgment
one night stands
adorable boyfriends (whom you never see)
male prostitutes (but only if you’re friendly)
broken condoms
broken hearts
best friends
sexual hyperactivity (the leading cause of teenage pregnancy)
being a slut (once too often)
cheating on your boyfriend
cheating on your girlfriend
blind dates
casual sex
love
God (if you’re the Virgin Mary)
Satan (if you’re the mother of the Anti-Christ)
straddling chairs
painting
hopscotch
touring Nova Scotia
boogie boarding
hand shakes
eye contact
smiles always mean so much more

Two Visions of the Man Who Would Become Pope (this is a found poem)

Riding Rome,
Charisma found in unlikely expression,
One recent afternoon.
A gray-haired man in papal gowns-
The Spanish movie about his life.
Mexico burst into spontaneous applause,
A secondary extravaganza.
At 66 he persuasively evokes reactions,
For drama, of course,
An attempt to shape the material disclosed.
A flashback- Jerusalem-
Pre-Vatican life
Baptized by John Paul
On the outskirts of the city.
Anti-communist papacy,
Patriarch transformation,
Required make-up sessions to avoid controversy,
Confrontation like sex scandals in the American Church.
When you become a Pope,
You become a prisoner of the Vatican,
Holding babies.

Werutte

A punishment to fit
The crime,
Is generous.

It lends to grief to
The one who cries
For nothing.

We cry with baby-soft
Tears on swollen cheeks
And self-pity in our pupils.

Woe to the Republic.

The next poem is kinda complex and I'm sure you can interpret but I want to note that this was a former poem that I just now edited. I deleted all I, me, my, etc. from it, so it will not make immediate grammatical sense. There was a purpose to this, however. Enjoy.

What is Intrawar?

Feel it rushing over
But can’t stop
Strangling
Struggling to walk without tripping
Taking over, warm washes of anger roll
Temples throbbing, trying to avoid the blow
Imagine what this feels like
Shaking now, so hard
Moral vicissitudes pan out
Panorama of self
Reaching for the doorknob, running up the stairs
Tearing, ripping, surging
Look who’s screaming now!!!
The fists fly with minds of their owns
But no!
In control
This isn’t working
Unsuccessful
Not satisfied until the jaundice is quelled
Absentee cry
But always driven back on knees
By a force that commands with greater authority than
And scratch until bleed
Until the blood runs over the invisible scars
Until bite down hard and pretend that this isn’t happening
All the while victimized by mind
Fighting desire
Fighting vengeance
Fighting a goddam intrawar

Forgive this poem, I wrote it when I was fourteen and thought I should rhyme. I just can't let it go.

Not Another Teenage Epiphany

Someone tell me why they writhe, why the scream, and why they cry
Someone tell me where we failed, how it was missed, how hate prevailed
Someone stand up to the lies, for whosoever defies it, denies it, and will ultimately win the war
What are you?
Warriors or runaways?
Afraid to fight for what you believe in?
Did you think you could hid behind a transparent curtain, or build a mock city at the bottom of a crystal clear lake?
Did you think no one would notice or just blow it the way you do, as if it’s taboo, and ignore the truth?
You let it infect us like disease
Shooting up like speed
Or snorted like coke
Some even have it in precious bottles just waiting to be
Shattered from the tears from the fears of not surviving
Drowning in the Sea of the Lost
Their hopes slashed with a petulant sword emblazoned with fire
It’s like AIDS and it’s spreading
Every time you turn around someone else you know has dropped the bomb
Letting the sand flow like liquid down the hourglass of life
Congested with pain and strife
And now they have to fight it
But there’s no time left to right it
So you do what you can and you wave goodbye
Such a waste is the haste for life
The need for speed when it won’t accelerate because it’s come to a full blown
Stop asking me questions you already know the answer to
How many times do I have to say it before this gets through to you?
I hate the way you look at me
And I hate the way you stare
I hate the way your eyes reflect mine
What I see is barren and bare
But you never answered me
I said tell me why they cry, why they scream, and why they writhe
Realize the goal here is to survive
Do not let love of life pass you by