Kierans

"Kierans"
When it begins, the first round is
always intense and mildly pretentious.
Lost of profanity, most about George Bush
or how Capitalist America doesn't allow room
for professional aesthetes. That's all well
and fine. What I really hate about
poetry slams is the second round.
When some woman gets up and tells
about her adventures and conquests.
How she likes to be tied up, and the different
whips and handcuffs she keeps under her bed.
Inevitably, my male friend gives her a perfect
ten. And I wonder if that's all it takes
to get his attention.

* * *

Failure to launch on the poem for yesterday. Rhyming poetry always puts a gigantic block in my path. So here's the poem for today without an assignment. Anyone with thoughts on assignments/poems should drop me an email.

* * *

Tomorrow's poem:
I Am Much Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone

I Am Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone

Rainer Maria Rilke

I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone
enough
to truly consecrate the hour.
I am much too small in this world, yet not small
enough
to be to you just object and thing,
dark and smart.
I want my free will and want it accompanying
the path which leads to action;
and want during times that beg questions,
where something is up,
to be among those in the know,
or else be alone.
I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection,
never be blind or too old
to uphold your weighty wavering reflection.
I want to unfold.
Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent;
for there I would be dishonest, untrue.
I want my conscience to be
true before you;
want to describe myself like a picture I observed
for a long time, one close up,
like a new word I learned and embraced,
like the everday jug,
like my mother's face,
like a ship that carried me along
through the deadliest storm.