the sieve and the sand

Leaving the wheat with the chaff. This is not your mother’s poetry.

Month: September, 2008

September 30, 2008

Creed

by Tucker J. Collins

You are the voice of my heart
You are the voice of my soul
You are the voice of all reason
You are the voice of my whole
*
You teach me life lessons when it needs be
And at this, You teach me always and forever
You teach me about your way to salvation
You teach with a patience that won’t tear or sever
No matter what I show of understanding
You will not thrust me into the black abyss
But give me the chance to find my way back
To Your voice through Sin’s haze and mist

7 comments
September 30, 2008

why the teaching profession is indeed evil

by Roger Mugs

forcing our words
whether created from inspiration or vomited out
of necessity
requiring we turn them in
as though ratting out our own parents

these words
we say as we staple our pages together
were written to be judged
so go ahead and mark your red all over
these pages
tell me my style is inappropriate
or i misspelled things by ‘accident’

then grade these words
and throw them to the wind
unless YOU decide MY words
are worthy of a refrigerator magnet

1 comment
September 30, 2008

for the chains i drag with me

by David X. Hugo

i am so tired
of the trading of paper
and the loving of traitors
and the words that they staple
words oh so hateful
to the trees made of maple
ever so faithful

and i am so tired
of the silence pervasive
after the laughs have all faded
the glances we traded
i hope i can save it
wont try to escape it
or find love belated

and i am so tired
and probably always will be
for the chains i drag with me

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September 29, 2008

ode to domestic help

by Roger Mugs

how do i live without you
i want to know
how do i dream without you
how do i ever
ever cook pie
without you

1 comment
September 29, 2008

take away

by rcribay

take away
this plane and
i’m just a man
39,000 feet in
the sky.

4 comments
September 27, 2008

gorillas with guns

by David X. Hugo

with words made of
the outlines of letters
but missing insides
you stand like a
silver backed gorilla
in the moonlight
pounding your
eat, shit, sleep
fuck mentallity
into anything you
can find and thusly
are the personifaction
of evil.

7 comments
September 27, 2008

i hear new jobs can be scary. but i suppose it depends on the field

by Roger Mugs

trifle lucky not quite ready
pardon every man stand steady
trigger pulling till its coming
pointing fingers prodding throwing
pick him up without a gab
place him face down in the cab
never any quite prepared
till they’re thrown in downright scared

baked and prodded
floating, lauded

time for someone else who dared

(in the end it was a matter of blood)

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September 26, 2008

on why most poet’s brilliance isn’t discovered until after they die

by Roger Mugs

our words as awesome as they may be
the pages we color with melody
nothing we do will ever hope to seem
as poetic as passing to death
most permanently

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September 25, 2008

haiku

by rcribay

each morning
new darkness thickens–
headlights approach.

2 comments
September 25, 2008

trained my thought (of)

by Roger Mugs

the days have been less kind to me
lately
i find myself more prone to awkwardly timed
bowel movements
than i did when i was young
depends
i suppose. what did i eat? where?
was there lactose? spice?
the days i suppose it depends, was there spice?
i find myself more awkwardly prone
to lactose timing
lately
less kind to my bowel movements
days lately. lactose and spice
awkwardly kind
where i suppose i eat
prone to when i was young
it all depends

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September 24, 2008

dreams of a budding politician

by Roger Mugs

i’ll dress in silk and finest cotton
thread count higher than my favorite sheets
wearing suits from companies whose
names i’ll only know once i consider
a grand here and grand there spare change

i’ll nod the the concierge as he accepts my
vip card and passes me a glass of brut
just to let them know their place i’ll shake
their hands and act uninterested

i’ll call them george, vladimir, bill, and steve
they’ll call me dr. mugs and i wont give them
the time of day (i have a secretary for that)

2 comments
September 24, 2008

to no avail

by David X. Hugo

i sit
unaware of the slow rate in which the paint on my walls is crawling towards the floor as if even it would like to leave

i sit
in complete ignorance to the fact that millions of ants are building a penis shaped tower that you can see from space

i sit
with all the momentum one could use to sit, all of the gravity and kinetic force that one can do nothing with

i sit
and i sit
and i sit
and in all of my sitting i never once get up to stand, i only do so in my head, and when i do that with my head i stand on a ledge, you could stay i perform a headstand on a ledge, a ledge that is very high up above some building and i hold my balance there as if i had performed this one headstand my entire life, and with the grace of the greatest ballet dancers, salsa dancers, street dancers, naked dancers, and all other kind of dancer, i let the wind push my headstand to wherever the wind has decided

i sit
and i sit
and i sit
and i fall off of a ledge in/on my head
the wind as my chair.

3 comments
September 24, 2008

pre – nuclear holocaust

by Roger Mugs

fields of glass
asphalt homes next to cement parks
robot dogs
and this is pre-nuclear holocaust

4 comments
September 23, 2008

my shoulders are breaking, my muscles are aching

by David X. Hugo

behind me are the ghosts
blowing up globes
and in front of me
is fear

1 comment
September 23, 2008

With Corruption There is No Tower

by Tucker J. Collins

When Building the Tower
That measures your Greatness
Buy the impact you have on others
*
Foundation is first
Before you apply the mortar
To set each stone in place
*
Each stone is an accomplishment
Each stone is a breakthrough
Each stone is a fulfilled responsibility
*
Each dollop is the path you took, a choice you made
Each dollop is the crossroad that ultimately led to the outcome
Each dollop is the way you’re judged
*
The Strife that tests your love and faith
Betrayal that makes you writhe in pain
But shows you’re like Job, one and the same

8 comments
September 23, 2008

…

by rcribay

i despise
this muted
feeling fearing
my words would
emerge burning
singeing your
ears or worse
your heart.

2 comments
September 23, 2008

erhu 二胡

by Roger Mugs

talented strings
bow brushing above yellow canvas
music to our ears

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September 22, 2008

eviction notice

by David X. Hugo

you don’t know what you want
but you know what you don’t
you don’t much want to hurt
but are not sure that you wont
you don’t know what to keep
’till it all gets too old
you can’t make up your mind
you don’t have the mold
nor do you have the receipt
or know where they’re sold
you don’t know what you want
so you don’t know what to hold
to keep out of the snow
so it won’t die in the cold
you can’t navigate this maze
so you don’t know where to go
and this is all in your head
and your head is your home
and this is all
and your head
and this
and your
and
and
where’d you get that gun
that the bullets shoot so slow?

1 comment
September 22, 2008

some things are much scarier in real life

by Roger Mugs

“red sky at night sailors delight
red sky at morning sailors warning”
or so i hear
but today?
yellow sky at morning
everyone should run like hell

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September 22, 2008

Back to School Mixer

by Tucker J. Collins

Three thousand people
Man was it packed
Ratio:2 girls for every 1 guy
I met 8 girls
And got a number

6 comments
September 22, 2008

this is a long drive

by David X. Hugo

ohio,
dramamine,
this is a long drive
for someone with
nothing
to think about

i might
show the custom concern
and head south
into the tundra/
desert
because she
ionizes
and
atomizes
while i’m
talking shit
about a pretty sunset

and we go down to
her beachside property,
dog paddle,
and it’s all about
making everyone happy/
mechanical birds
so she goes to sleep
while i’m at the lounge
where
space travel is boring…
wait, breakthrough,
exit does not exist.

5 comments
September 22, 2008

mine seldom qualify as good

by Roger Mugs

backwards good as just
be always should poem good a

1 comment
September 21, 2008

hudson

by David X. Hugo

hudson is the name of a dog i
won at the fair,
put a ball through a basket,
brought it home to you

hudson is a pretend dalmation
with big brown eyes
like mine
only he can’t see you

hudson is immortal
and he can never die
because he is plush
so he cannot leave you

1 comment
September 21, 2008

at the water park there were no lines (except the scratches on my shoulder blades from so many rides) and i got a workout just running up the stairs to come back down again… it was SOOO much fun

by Roger Mugs

slides and all
up and down
down and up
lines (weren’t none)
up and down
round and round
down and through
the hole of the toilet bowl
up and down
back and again
scream for joy
like a little boy
slides and all
up and down
water round

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September 20, 2008

a haiku in three images

by rcribay

a bird departs
a shaking black bough
a silent street

1 comment
September 19, 2008

(butterfly). i couldn’t whistle until i was 16. i vowed if i ever learned how i would never stop. now almost ten years later i whistle incessantly.

by Roger Mugs

stuck to the ground and crawling
squirming
knowing you’re the disgusting one
people feed to spiders then observe dying
it could be you in that web
having your insides made slurpee
sucked out. so
crawling into reclusion
build yourself a home with
walls thinner than cardboard
cold when it rains

emerging
i dont blame you for ALWAYS
being in flight
i’m just shocked i never see
you lounging around
basking in your own vanity

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September 19, 2008

my dog farted and it smelled like poop

by rcribay

so i–sniffing
incessantly–scanned
this house–sure i’d
find it somewhere
waiting to be discovered
like some ironic twist
at the end of a rainbow
when it struck me: how
many of us live
our lives like this?

3 comments
September 19, 2008

Shipwreck

by freakynewchild

In the middle of the night

the stranger came again

“Let’s go sailing,” he said;

the moon and the stars, carved out of the sky,

wept in the palm of his hand

the humming bird trapped inside my ribcage coughed fire,

but I could not swim in the dark.

My eyes flashed its last picture

Yesterday’s party

full of chatter, color, chimera, and … me

filling my skin with speed and artificial light

orbiting, hanging on someone else’ s shoulder, arm, waist, eyes, lips as

though afraid to break some heavenly thread;

I fancied myself free.

1 comment
September 18, 2008

a blue mind

by David X. Hugo

a blue mind walks over
green hills
turning
everything a cold
grey

a blue mind stares the
clock down,
with success,
until its ticks dull
down, infinitesimal

a blue mind rips
the pages of history
coming undone,
himself,
with the pages

1 comment
September 18, 2008

fancy head ticks

by Roger Mugs

when you shake after
a cold gang green
agent orange driven
frost bitten day of
joy in a rice paddy marsh
up to your neck
with your gun over your head
knowing whats coming
but avoiding the
cancer filled lungs
following days after
work like this?

we dont get paid enough

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