tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50776761555569134372024-03-13T10:01:15.641-07:00WoRdS aRe My DrUg Of ChOiCeThis is the place on-line where I park my spontaneous thoughts, poetry, etc.
"Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind." ~ Rudyard Kipling
"Abuse of words has been the great instrument of sophistry and chicanery, of party, faction, and division of society." ~John Adams
"Everything we hear is an opinion, not a fact. Everything we see is a perspective, not the truth."
~Marcus AureliusRick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.comBlogger88125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5077676155556913437.post-4909856014625705272017-07-08T06:27:00.003-07:002018-05-24T10:34:59.190-07:00Squirrel ZenGrey squirrel drinking from<br />
The copper birdbath<br />
Both front feet in the waterRick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5077676155556913437.post-55213352023680773652017-04-08T08:28:00.001-07:002017-04-08T08:28:42.496-07:00KILL KILL KILL!<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Kill, kill, kill and keep on killing until you run out of people to kill</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">and then kill, kill, kill animals and keep on killing until you run out of animals to kill</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">and then kill, kill, kill plants and keep on killing until you run out of plants to kill</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">and then kill, kill, kill the environment and keep on killing until you run out of air to breathe and water to drink</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">and then find another planet to kill, kill, kill and keep on killing!</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Kill, kill, kill.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Kill, kill, kill.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">KILL!</span>Rick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5077676155556913437.post-21001622222441263172016-04-12T11:25:00.002-07:002016-04-12T11:25:57.731-07:00Poem #1-2016 Paddling the Cobbosseecontee<i style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">With thanks to Gary Snyder for</i><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;" /><i style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">Four Poems for Robin/Siwashing it out once in Siuslaw Forest</i><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;" /><i style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;"><br /></i><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">We moved along the calm water</span><div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">Sunlight dropping hard</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">Sweating in our life jackets</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">Hands glued to their work</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">Feet firmly planted</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">No thought but forward</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">Our first time was like this</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">Paddling together on the Cobbosseecontee</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">We met late in life</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">Both of us almost half a century</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">Now we're 10 years older</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">You're retired and I'm not</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">But that's the way of things</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">Our stream calls us</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">We don't move so fast anymore</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">But we remember when we could</span></span></div>
Rick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5077676155556913437.post-14065441033685231182015-12-30T08:07:00.000-08:002015-12-30T08:10:29.617-08:00Poem #1-2015 The Only PoemSo much depends -- sorry, WCW -- on the upshot<br />
the downdraft<br />
the uptake<br />
the downtrodden<br />
the uprising<br />
the downcast<br />
the upstarts<br />
the downplays<br />
the uplands<br />
the downwinds<br />
<br />
And so much depends - sorry again, Walt -- on<br />
yin<br />
and<br />
yang<br />
both of them, not one or the other<br />
<br />
No life without death, light without dark...<br />
blah blah blah we get it, Mr. Watts,<br />
but only in our heads and that's the wrong place for it<br />
<br />
It needs to be written on our hearts<br />
but now I sound Biblical<br />
and this was supposed to be spontaneous<br />
<br />
Crapshine toodle-oo pisspot Mother Macree alien<br />
invasive species rag-a-muffin carol Dickens<br />
peacepipe terrorist free-for-all Seminole<br />
aging ratter-tatter resistance underground<br />
<br />
Words are easy<br />
It's the living of 'em that's hard<br />
<br />
And you don't need to be a red wheelbarrow to figure that one out<br />
<br />
<br />Rick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5077676155556913437.post-85187665193374609542013-08-06T13:32:00.001-07:002013-08-06T13:32:30.776-07:00Poem #7-2013 Less Can Be More?It's all vibration,<br />
and relation,<br />
and avoiding castration<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Submitted to <a href="http://dversepoets.com/">Dversepoets.com</a> Open Link Night #108</div>
Rick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5077676155556913437.post-18151553472727855252013-05-21T11:56:00.000-07:002013-05-21T11:56:02.930-07:00Poem #6-2013 MortalityOn waking this morning:<br />
a hintergedanken<br />
Something, slippery ... unspoken<br />
Looming just out of consciousness<br />
<br />
Drove to the nearest cemetery<br />
Lay down in the grass atop John Siemens<br />
Never heard of him before<br />
He was mortal like me<br />
<br />
Climbed up and sat on his headstone<br />
My feet dangled<br />
Heels bounced on the etched dates:<br />
1945 - 2004<br />
<br />
His entire life unfolded in that one-inch dash<br />
Didn't even make sixty years<br />
Wonder if I will<br />
John said it was unlikely<br />
<br />
Other dead spoke to me<br />
Mothers and fathers<br />
Gone angels spinning<br />
Around my disbelief<br />
<br />
Jumping down<br />
I left two footprints<br />
Dug into the grave<br />
A defiant act not contained in John's dash<br />
<br />
Bought an ice cream cone on the way home<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Submitted to <a href="http://dversepoets.com/">Dversepoets.com</a> Open Link Night #97Rick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5077676155556913437.post-62104726709023231182013-05-14T12:33:00.003-07:002013-05-14T12:33:54.277-07:00Poem #5-2013 Forest HaikuSymptom of nature<br />
I walk through the piney woods<br />
Through myself darkly<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Submitted to <a href="http://dversepoets.com/">Dversepoets.com</a> Open Link Night #96Rick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5077676155556913437.post-7330930226420927842013-05-07T12:01:00.000-07:002013-05-07T12:01:11.970-07:00Poem #4-2013 Saying No to DeathSaying no to death is not enough<br />
<div>
one must also say yes to life</div>
<div>
else living becomes a</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
timid pursuit of breath</div>
<div>
shallow triumph of mediocrity</div>
<div>
joyless bite of the apple</div>
<div>
listless step on someone else's journey</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I am a cadaver, walking</div>
<div>
among those who haven't</div>
<div>
seen the darkness</div>
<div>
who revel in the blinding light</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
darkening the darkness</div>
<div>
for those who said</div>
<div>
no to death</div>
<div>
but forgot to say yes to life</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="text-align: center;"> Submitted to </span><a href="http://dversepoets.com/" style="text-align: center;">dversepoets.com</a><span style="text-align: center;"> for Open Link Night #95</span></div>
Rick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5077676155556913437.post-68140156857704899022013-04-30T15:56:00.000-07:002013-04-30T15:56:05.676-07:00Poem #3-2013 Rosemary's HikeRocky promontory<br />
Natural seating<br />
Whittier pond 700 feet below<br />
The white dots? Ducks<br />
Great and Long Pond in the distance<br />
...and mountain peaks<br />
Turkey vulture soaring gracefully -- eye level<br />
(buzzard is a vulgar term)<br />
Fragrance of new buds<br />
Titmouse crying cheerfully<br />
Calming hum of a passing plane<br />
Whispering branches<br />
All this . . .<br />
ALL OF THIS!<br />
<br />
And you had to go and die this morning<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="text-align: center;"> Submitted to </span><a href="http://dversepoets.com/" style="text-align: center;">dversepoets.com</a><span style="text-align: center;"> for Open Link Night #94</span>Rick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5077676155556913437.post-11493810565872265322013-04-09T16:07:00.003-07:002013-04-09T16:07:47.768-07:00Poem #2-2013 A Spring Day in Academe<i>With thanks to Gary Snyder for</i><br />
<i>Four Poems for Robin/A spring night in Shokoko-ji</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Last year at this time<br />
I was a whole human being<br />
Teaching (or trying to) at university.<br />
All I knew at that time<br />
Seems lost to me now, except feelings.<br />
Sitting here in class<br />
In my "professor's chair"<br />
I hear voices telling me I can't<br />
And I think about what it's like<br />
To be incomplete.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="text-align: center;"> Submitted to </span><a href="http://dversepoets.com/" style="text-align: center;">dversepoets.com</a><span style="text-align: center;"> for Open Link Night #91</span>Rick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5077676155556913437.post-73510320026818659922013-04-02T13:49:00.004-07:002013-04-09T16:03:17.213-07:00Poem #1-2013 The Boundless Blackness of HeartUntil you've planned your own demise<br />
Until you've been locked away<br />
Until you've been "checked on" every 15 minutes 24 hours a day for a week<br />
Until you're not allowed to have shoelaces or a belt or a pen<br />
Until you're told what you can and cannot watch on TV<br />
Until you've seen insanity firsthand<br />
Until you've had your brain chemistry fucked with by doctors who are, at best, "experimenting"<br />
Until you've looked into the boundless blackness of your own heart<br />
<br />
Until all of that . . . and more (unmentionably dark more)<br />
Do not expect to understand my suffering<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Submitted to <a href="http://dversepoets.com/">dversepoets.com</a> for Open Link Night #90</div>
<br />Rick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5077676155556913437.post-80247269583910987792012-11-27T10:52:00.002-08:002013-04-26T14:03:44.040-07:00Poem #20-2012 Empty dreamsHelp me lose my way<br />
Layer me with marble<br />
I'm on my last shakes<br />
and the police don't care<br />
Can you tell?<br />
My dreams are empty<br />
as a miscarried womb<br />
--misery bloodworm canker cancer rotten meat --<br />
Feel it in your deep down!<br />
Anesthesia<br />
Tangled up in blood<br />
Shit-filled fantasies<br />
Wheelbound and<br />
hellbent<br />
Dark headspace<br />
spins me out of orbit<br />
Black thighs<br />
squeezing my brain<br />
instead of my soul<br />
Scorched in sin<br />
swollen to bursting<br />
Eat with me<br />
Sleep with me<br />
Be with me<br />
Tristessa<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br />
<br />
Contributed to <a href="http://dversepoets.com/">dVersePoets.com</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Open Link Night</div>
Rick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5077676155556913437.post-11017477897859600952012-11-13T12:40:00.000-08:002012-11-13T12:40:21.047-08:00Poem #19-2012 Falling ThoughtsShe fell hard<br />
<div>
hard like steel</div>
<div>
hard like real</div>
<div>
and she never made excuses</div>
<div>
or completely lost her way</div>
<div>
and she never got the blues</div>
<div>
Hell, she <u>was</u> the blues:</div>
<div>
Horn-splayed</div>
<div>
drum-scattered</div>
<div>
liquid thighed</div>
<div>
vibrato-laden . . .</div>
<div>
God! What a woman,</div>
<div>
rain-soaked</div>
<div>
Saturday afternoon</div>
<div>
delight, tight</div>
<div>
right up to dangerous --</div>
<div>
fall off a cliff</div>
<div>
headlong travesty</div>
<div>
juicy wet lips beckoning --</div>
<div>
(He fell, too,</div>
<div>
hard as a rock</div>
<div>
deepening vee</div>
<div>
"You can't get pregnant</div>
<div>
on top, baby")</div>
<div>
How fast can you go</div>
<div>
when the end is assured?</div>
<div>
Pubic sore</div>
<div>
Neither one ready to </div>
<div>
say "no more"</div>
<div>
There <u>was</u> nothing more</div>
<div>
than this falling fucking feeling</div>
<div>
Falling!</div>
<div>
Like a rock</div>
<div>
Like a cock</div>
<div>
"There's got to be more,"</div>
<div>
she thought</div>
<div>
And he licked her</div>
<div>
where thought became</div>
<div>
impossible</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Contributed to <a href="http://dversepoets.com/">dVersePoets.com</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Open Link Night</div>
</div>
Rick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5077676155556913437.post-25748326516815109172012-10-17T12:52:00.000-07:002012-10-17T12:52:57.643-07:00Poem #18 Not todayToday I shall not<br />
use the word "like"<br />
to introduce a metaphor<br />
in a poem<br />
<br />
I shall not<br />
mention Jack Kerouac<br />
more than 5 times<br />
(zero seemed too lofty)<br />
<br />
Today I shall not<br />
forget to be thankful<br />
for something,<br />
no matter how small<br />
<br />
I shall not<br />
forget to buy<br />
flowers on the way home<br />
(for no reason than to<br />
brighten her day)<br />
<br />
Today I shall not<br />
be a deliberate<br />
obstacle to change<br />
<br />
I shall not<br />
get drunk<br />
except on ideas<br />
<br />
Today I shall not<br />
should on myself<br />
excessively<br />
<br />
I shall not<br />
foist my views<br />
on others<br />
<br />
Today I shall not<br />
assume the worst<br />
about others<br />
<br />
I shall not<br />
overburden myself<br />
with "rules"<br />
<br />
It's kind of like<br />
a forced march<br />
with no destination<br />
<br />
...oops<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Contributed to <a href="http://dversepoets.com/">dVersePoets.com</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Open Link Night</div>
Rick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5077676155556913437.post-67238193835950362502012-09-25T17:49:00.000-07:002012-09-25T17:49:11.331-07:00Poem #17-2012 PittsburghWe're in Pittsburgh<br />
<br />
We stop at a restaurant<br />
<br />
The waitress says,<br />
<br />
"What'll yinz have?"<br />
<br />
We are <i>definitely</i> in Pittsburgh<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />
Contributed to <a href="http://dversepoets.com/">dVersePoets.com</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Open Link Night</div>
Rick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5077676155556913437.post-2341283536637333212012-09-04T14:54:00.001-07:002012-09-22T05:31:05.814-07:00Poem #16-2012 Nature LessonsA raven<br />
(which is a crow but not vice versa)<br />
will chase a chipmunk<br />
<br />
I've seen it happen<br />
<br />
An argument over the pile of seed I leave<br />
under the maple tree<br />
(I guess - ravens don't kill for meat, do they?)<br />
<br />
<i>Here we go 'round the mulberry bush,</i><br />
<i>the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush....</i><br />
<br />
Round the trunk twice<br />
Raven hop-running<br />
Chipmunk scurrying<br />
Then, a bee-line for cover<br />
<br />
The raven takes wing<br />
chasing the competitor clear over<br />
to my brush pile<br />
<br />
and safety<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />Contributed to <a href="http://dversepoets.com/">dVersePoets.com</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Open Link Night</div>
<br />
<br />Rick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5077676155556913437.post-31913930571657769002012-08-21T11:49:00.003-07:002012-09-22T05:30:33.012-07:00Poem #15-2012 Fire Danger TodayHearth visitors<br />
drown in the miracle<br />
of my fire<br />
<br />
It lures them close<br />
before<br />
turning them to instant ash<br />
<br />
Neither fire nor victim<br />
aware of the danger<br />
until survival<br />
is out of the question<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Contributed to <a href="http://dversepoets.com/">dVersePoets.com</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Open Link Night</div>
Rick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5077676155556913437.post-12363926740120074352012-08-13T11:25:00.002-07:002012-08-14T11:47:53.246-07:00Poem #14-2012 Jack Attack<br />
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Jack, Jack, Jack</div>
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Ti Jean</div>
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Kerouac</div>
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Ti Pousse</div>
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Mickey, Michael, Leo</div>
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Francis, Peter</div>
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Zagg, Wesley</div>
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Sal, Ray</div>
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Mike, Robert</div>
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Richard</div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>Maggie Cassidy, Tristessa, </i><i>Satori in Paris, Doctor Sax, </i><i>Visions of Cody, Desolation Angels, </i><i>Big Sur, Visions of Gerard,</i><i>The Town and the City, </i><i>Orpheus Emerged, </i><i>The Subterraneans,</i><br />
<i>Atop an Underwood, </i><i>Book of Dreams, </i><i>Vanity of Duluoz, </i><i>The Sea is My Brother, </i><i>On the Road,</i><br />
<i>The Dharma Bums, </i><i>And the Hippos Were Boiled in Their Tanks</i></div>
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<br /></div>
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Richard</div>
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Mike, Robert</div>
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Sal, Ray</div>
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Zagg, Wesley</div>
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Francis, Peter</div>
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Mickey, Michael, Leo</div>
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Ti Pousse</div>
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Kerouac</div>
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Ti Jean </div>
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Jack, Jack, Jack</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Contributed to <a href="http://dversepoets.com/">dVersePoets.com</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Open Link Night<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
This is a slam poem meant to be recited aloud from memory. It's a riff on all the characters that Jack Kerouac used for himself in his books (the latter in italics). I plan to perform it at Lowell Celebrates Kerouac this October. Wish me luck - memorization ain't easy at my age.</div>
</div>
<br />Rick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5077676155556913437.post-22740838797137660722012-08-07T10:48:00.000-07:002012-08-07T10:48:52.302-07:00Poem #13-2012 Cut-Up JournalI hope your fickle uterus disappears in a rage without explanation<br />
Every dream dies<br />
Good enough<br />
A season full of lessons<br />
Listen with the possibility of being changed<br />
The language of deficits<br />
Every human being is of incalculable value<br />
Education is not neutral<br />
What did I do today?<br />
Maybe it's time<br />
Destiny henceforth<br />
You made your bed<br />
But how short?<br />
It's kind of a clamor<br />
Soup sounds better<br />
I censored myself at least 40%<br />
Drinking bad beer is out<br />
Sometimes nothing makes sense<br />
Writers write<br />
All dead as are their husbands<br />
More is welcome -- what's been is sufficient<br />
The Buddha was the first one to see it<br />
Cake for everyone<br />
Jack wrote at least 1,500 words/day<br />
I need to stop that<br />
The blank page<br />
<i>A Child's Garden of Verses</i><br />
The best unknown poet alive<br />
I am no good on my feet<br />
I assume I'll be alone<br />
More impressive in person<br />
What the elders said is true<br />
Does this help or hurt the future?<br />
The muse comes from any direction<br />
Poetry ought to be a refuge<br />
Infucking competent<br />
Wrongs I committed out of selfishness<br />
The mindset of discovery<br />
Generating ideas<br />
Because of a fucking meeting<br />
There is a poem that will save you<br />
A psychic toll, indeed<br />
"Order up!"<br />
Sometimes it is all one can do<br />
A second look<br />
Trust me<br />
When am I happy?<br />
Should we get a convertible?<br />
Timing<br />
Creative thought is dead to me<br />
"Who are you to ask me such a thing?"<br />
What makes something "fun"?<br />
<i>Naked Lunch</i><br />
In my wildest dreams<br />
PARADOX!<br />
For an undetermined period of time<br />
I have been the betrayer<br />
Sparkling sin<br />
Hovering death<br />
Tribes<br />
It's not. You know that.<br />
Something needs a poem written about it today<br />
Quit whining and do your work<br />
Nothing matters<br />
Tighten up<br />
Make me believe your corvette skin<br />
Needs too much work<br />
No problems identified<br />
Trust me, you are <u>not</u> that important<br />
"What would you like to dip your chicken tenders in?"<br />
I have a whole new appreciation of Cake<br />
Beats the shit out of me<br />
Death transcends such things<br />
Close your trunk using a bungee cord<br />
Waiting for the tab<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />Contributed to <a href="http://dversepoets.com/">dVersePoets.com</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Open Link Night</div>Rick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5077676155556913437.post-20865497604856450822012-07-24T10:13:00.001-07:002012-07-24T11:06:10.371-07:00Poem #12-2012 Death From AboveHovering<br />
black-and-white death<br />
a few false drops<br />
teasing the watery prey<br />
then, head first, at<br />
bullet speed<br />
Spaaaa-looossssh (talons first)<br />
Wet pause<br />
airborne again -<br />
one quick hover and shake<br />
<br />
Look - a flying fish !<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Contributed to <a href="http://dversepoets.com/">dVersePoets.com</a></div>
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Open Link Night</div>Rick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5077676155556913437.post-30762899634583849252012-06-19T10:43:00.002-07:002012-06-19T10:43:44.161-07:00Poem #11-2012 Velveteen Bird"Why?'<br />
asks the little bird.<br />
<br />
"Because," I say,<br />
"they told me all these<br />
things are real."<br />
<br />
"Are they?"<br />
the little bird asks.<br />
<br />
"Who are you to ask<br />
me such a thing?" I say.<br />
<br />
"Why don't you ask me<br />
why I sing?"<br />
the little bird asks.<br />
<br />
"What's the point?<br />
I know why you sing," I say.<br />
<br />
"You do?"<br />
the little bird asks.<br />
<br />
"Of course," I say.<br />
<br />
"Why?"<br />
the little bird asks.<br />
<br />
"Instinct," I say.<br />
<br />
"And do your instincts<br />
tell you that these<br />
things are real?"<br />
the little bird asks.<br />
<br />
". . . No," I say.<br />
<br />
And I begin to sing.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Contributed to <a href="http://dversepoets.com/">dVersePoets.com</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Open Link Night</div>Rick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5077676155556913437.post-25995340666074927522012-05-22T09:01:00.003-07:002012-05-22T09:02:12.346-07:00Poem #10-2012 The On Road*My wife and I<br />
had something miserably dead<br />
coming before planning<br />
perfect<br />
naively intellectual letters<br />
shrouded out of New York<br />
<br />
The beautiful cafeteria<br />
reminded me of leftover things<br />
so I went flat<br />
jumping to sex<br />
sweat<br />
curse<br />
like a young Gene Autry<br />
blonde ringlets<br />
hanging like a serious<br />
gloomy fluctuating crystallization<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
*This is a "cut-up poem" (a la William S. Burroughs) using words (in the order they appear) from the first four paragraphs of Jack Kerouac's <i>On The Road</i>.<br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<br />
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Contributed to <a href="http://dversepoets.com/">dVersePoets.com</a></div>
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Open Link Night</div>Rick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5077676155556913437.post-58792086886469989772012-05-15T11:59:00.002-07:002012-05-15T11:59:22.544-07:00Poem #9-2012 Colored ThingsRibbons<br />
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Rainbows</div>
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Flags</div>
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Sunsets</div>
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<br /></div>
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Color is light – </div>
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made, lost, or moved</div>
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Black is coldest</div>
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Then red, orange, yellow-white, bluish-white</div>
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<br /></div>
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Yarn</div>
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Hair</div>
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Bowling balls</div>
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Flowers</div>
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<br /></div>
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Stripped to its essence,</div>
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color is perception</div>
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Wielded by the artist,</div>
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color is passion</div>
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<br /></div>
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Birthday candles</div>
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Backpacks</div>
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Construction paper</div>
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Socks</div>
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<br /></div>
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Taken for granted,</div>
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color retreats</div>
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Seen through bias,</div>
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color condemns</div>
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<br /></div>
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Songbirds</div>
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Sunday comics</div>
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Traffic lights</div>
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Crayons</div>
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<br /></div>
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If music is what feelings sound like, then</div>
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color is what music looks like</div>
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Don’t just see the colors – </div>
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Hear them<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Contributed to <a href="http://dversepoets.com/">dVersePoets.com</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Open Link Night</div>
</div>Rick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5077676155556913437.post-23380700549590711862012-04-03T11:23:00.001-07:002012-04-03T11:23:59.499-07:00Poem #8-2012 EqualitySitting.<br />
Coffee.<br />
An old book.<br />
Windows.<br />
Bright morning glare.<br />
<br />
My fingernails amaze me,<br />
As do the wine bottles<br />
reflecting the<br />
streaming sunlight.<br />
<br />
That anything exists --<br />
chairs,<br />
coffee,<br />
books,<br />
windows,<br />
the sun,<br />
fingernails,<br />
wine --<br />
<br />
is equally wondrous<br />
and . . .<br />
wondrously equal.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Contributed to <a href="http://dversepoets.com/">dVersePoets.com</a></div>
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Open Link Night</div>Rick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5077676155556913437.post-22349764992193820332012-03-27T12:46:00.003-07:002012-03-27T12:46:42.258-07:00Poem #7-2012 The Lowry Day<br />
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Mother always called</div>
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a day like this</div>
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a “lowry” day</div>
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the sun hidden</div>
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only a threat of rain</div>
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not cold – chilly</div>
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she said it’s what</div>
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Dad called days like this</div>
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(something about his Irish heritage)</div>
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<br /></div>
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something else, though –</div>
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beneath the weather –</div>
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makes it lowry</div>
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<br /></div>
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an attitude, a state of things in general</div>
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an unnameable sadness for what could be</div>
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a miasma</div>
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a desire to wrap oneself in </div>
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a cozy blanket and</div>
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sit fireside </div>
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pondering not much of anything</div>
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feeling…</div>
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...lowry</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Contributed to <a href="http://dversepoets.com/">dVersePoets.com</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Open Link Night</div>Rick Dale, author of The Beat Handbookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17721559977431022390noreply@blogger.com3