Monthly Archives: November 2010
November 2010 Edition of Poetry Super Highway Live
I read “Water“, one of the poems in my Novena collection, on Sunday’s broadcast of Poetry Super Highway Live on BlogTalkRadio. Novena was been honored with the Adult International Literary Award from the ANCA Foundation at the 2010 Naturally Autistic People Awards.
Visit this link to listen to the entire broadcast, which also includes poets from Syracuse, NY, Newark, NJ, Lake Wells, FL, Calabasas, CA, Studio City, CA, Birmingham, AL, Long Beach, CA and Seattle, WA, as well as of the winners of the 2010 Poetry Super Highway Contest.
The next show is scheduled for Sunday, December 12 at 5 PM Eastern/2 PM Pacific. Don’t Miss It!
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Stumble It!
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“I’m Sorry, What Do You Do, Again?” by Guest Blogger BrownEyed (via {Courage 2 Create})
I have been so, so, so guilty of this myself…skulking and dropping my head when I mention being a writer and a poet. BrownEyed makes a very good point in this FreshlyPressed guest post on Ollin Morales’ blog. Read on!
-Nicole
WWP Poem #28: Ribbons
How do you create remembrances, tie
souls up like ribbons and affix little plastic lives
to the back of a car bumper? Someone
keeps reaching through the other side of the mirror,
grabbing colors in so many handfuls to
give to them for skins. The first embraces
were canaries slipped around the waistlines of trees
while young men spoke someone else’s missives, a
dialect of napalm delivered halfway across the world: unknown incantations
of more death to outpile the enemy, body by body.
Continue reading
WWP Poem #27: Fifteen
You, perceptive enough to pick up
all the half-rhymes hanging out in your stomach;
you, with a galvanized ear leading to tubules
that course straight up into your brain;
you, possessing databanks built out of flesh
humming in data process heaven just behind your bone walls;
Continue reading
WWP Poem #26: Back Door Blues
I.
I’ve been collecting music and pouring it into the coffers of my brain
since I was fifteen. It took a few years for me to understand
that the stereo inside my cranial walls needed more stuff to spin, so I
reached out in raven-claw fashion, stealing everything
I could get my ears on. Trailing behind me is the umbra
of a greedy teenage girl trapped in a good two-shoes, church girl headlock
while sneaking sonic pleasures through the back door of
her ears. Hey all you people that tryin’ to sleep,
I’m out to make it with my midnight dream.
Continue reading
