Whoops! It's been a crazy busy day. So here's two of Sharon Olds' pieces, brilliantly read by her:

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Ugh. Bad day, in my head. Although tea_drinker77  and I went and had a beer and saw Source Code this evening (WHICH IS AWESOME OMG IT MAKES INCEPTION LOOK A BIT SILLY) and I'm feeling better. Time for fun poetry:

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I first read Ginsburg's "America" when I was 15. I got to "go fuck yourself with your atom bomb", boggled, and put the book back on the library shelf. ( Read more... )

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This is one of my all-time favorite poems. I love it's gothic surrealness. You can read it here.

Sometimes I just wander around youtube finding incredible performance poets; Andrea Gibson is my latest discovery. This is her poem of "I Sing the Body Electric, Especially When My Power's Out".

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For Every Heart

I like it when my friend has lovers, their happy moans,
unrestrained, fill the house with the glee of her prowess.
As in China, during the concert of the laser harp,
cameras added their applause, percussive,
while the umbilical fanned neon from each note
in the open-air theater and ribboned the path of stars,
I am moved to clap. Hands ( Read more... )

I’ve been super lazy about my poetry posting. I’ll have to play catch up now: which means two poems for the price of one this week!

Lana Turner has collapsed!
I was trotting along and suddenly
it started raining and snowing
and you said it was hailing
but hailing hits you on the head
hard so it was really snowing and
raining and I was in such a ( Read more... )

feminine protection

oh honey honey I'm telling you - a woman's work is never
done. why that guy who gave me the once-over twice
pumping his hands under his overcoat -
well, his eyes don't open so well
since I sprayed him in the face with my
Miss Lady Aerosol Pump Superhold Formula Hairspray

and then that guy who felt me up on the subway, well -
( Read more... )

Climb Inside of Me

I told my woman,
I said,
Woman I ain't in the mood
for no, girl to girl love
the kind that's only made
when the moon is full, and the cat is fed
I've been waiting for you
on the edge of the bed,
there is a stairwell to the left
a ladder to the right, take any route you like
but, you hurry and climb inside of me,
I need to feel your body ( Read more... )

oh this man
what a meal he made of me
how he chewed and gobbled and sucked
in the end he spat me all out

you arrived on the dot, in the nick
of time, with your red curls flying
I was about to slip down the sink like grease
I nearly collapsed, I almost
wiped myself out like a stain
I called for you, and you came, you voyaged
fierce as a small archangel with ( Read more... )

Well, I'm starting to feel more human and less like The Swamp Thing. So here's a three-for-one combo of poetry, to catch up on the days I missed.

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This is the track "Interlude: 6 Legged Griot Trio (Weariness)" from Meshell Ndegeocello's album Cookie: The Anthropological Mix-Tape. I picked it up from the library down the street where I grew up. I'm ( Read more... )

I couldn't decide between these two poems, so I'm cheating and posting them both. They're both from his incredible self-titled album. I like how he blurs the boundaries between literature and pop music, poetry and rap, how he never hesitates to mix up politics in it all.

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Lyrics are here.

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