Freezing Rain

The freezing rain

of your indifference
coats me until
I am like
the trees outside
your house, bare
branches curling in
on themselves, protecting
the small buds
of possible leaves

Bernstein-Meyer Experimental Poem #53

Will you ask? Will I have to? What would I

say? Is he coming over? What if he notices

me? What if he doesn't? What if I'm stupid?

What if he is? What if the sun fell from the

sky and we died? What if it did? Where did

that come from? What will I have for

breakfast? Why do kids make you sick?

What will I do with my life? What if there is

nothing to do? What have I wasted this time

on? What if I am conniving? What if I'm as

naïve as everyone thinks? Can you be both

conniving and naïve? Should I be more like

her? Or has she tried to be more like me?

Why is he still with her? Why are they both

cheating on each other? Why do I care when

I know he doesn't? How do I know he

doesn't? Why does he get hurt when I

ignore him? Does that mean he still cares?

What he just wants to be friends? Can I

survive loving him if we're friends? How do I

stop loving him? Should I just go find

someone else? Who would I go find? How

would I talk to them if I did find them?

Buddha

Shaped by our thoughts

we become

When the mind is pure

leaves.

Whitman

In the door-yard

fronting an old farm-house,
near the white-wash’d palings,

 Stands the lilac bush,
tall-growing,
with heart-shaped leaves of rich green

With many a pointed blossom,
rising, delicate,
with the perfume strong I love

 With every leaf a miracle
and from this bush
in the door-yard,

With delicate-color’d blossoms,
and heart-shaped leaves of rich green
A sprig, with its flower, I break.

Trash Bags

The pumpkin faces

were filled leaves whose
stems poked out until,
as the wetness set in
and they mouldered,
the stumpy lengths
shredded the bag
and the leaves spread across
the freshly raked lawn.

Burroughs

How beautifully

leaves grow old.

How full
of light
and color
are their last days.

Insult #4

It's not like you

want to be
with anyone
anyway.

You fuck up
every relationship
that has potential.

Tuesdays

Why do I prefer

this weekly torture
to sitting by myself at home?

Insult #2

My disbelief
at their interest
is only made more incredulous
by the subject:
you.

Curled

At the window,

I saw two leaves dancing
on the branch,
so close to each other
that they curled
along the other's veins.

Insult #3

You have so many issues,

you can't even commit
to what shirt to wear today.

Chalice

Knowing that there were no wild bears

or killers out in the
brush to the left
or the
trees to the right
and watching
the gravel-dirt crossway under my feet,
I still borrowed
the small light of the phone
reflected on the mile markers.

Peppers

The leaves collecting

in the yard
protect the delicate
spicy peppers
you brought back with you.

Did you pay
the taxes
when the man asked
what you bought in Peru
or did you play
the tourist
and avoid the fine?

Deck of the Elizabeth

Where the grayed splintering wood

met water
grew tendrils of things.

Weeds and plants and paper
which were covered in silt
from the recent flood.

Trailing your foot over the edge,
missing the brackish waste
more from luck than planning,
you spoke of the beauty
that you saw everywhere.

Cracked Glass

From the outside,

watching the crack form in the fishbowl
and the water slowly leak out
is as strenuous
as being the force
that caused the first chip.

When the fish began to push at the sides
the only thing to do
is shore up the levy around it
and hope for the water to rush
around and not over
the hands holding the him

Traffic

The husk was black

and the glass shattered onto the street,
mingling with the water
which killed the flames
and turned it
a mottled white-black.

Bernstein-Meyer Experimental Poem #31

When you are done with her
and wonder where the pieces of yourself
you lost are
I will know
because I have collected them
like the discarded clothing
you let fall to the ground
on the way to her bed.

Braddock Road

The cars passed
not swerving or slowing

to let you by
and when the sudden gust of
wind from a speeding Honda
hit you
you careened across
the median
before landing on a Mercedes.
Unscathed you continued
across the lanes of traffic
before collapsing on the lawn
in front of the school,
breaking with the prick of grass.

That Fell

The leaf that fell
hit each branch on its way
then landing on your hair,
you shook it to the ground
where it lay waiting
to be picked up by the air.

While the leaf...

While the leaf
caught between the windshield and the wiper
collected the chilly rain of 2 am

we talked

and when the first cold drop
slid over the edge of its makeshift cup

I stopped crying
and let you go

slept for the coming work day.

Classification

bipinnate
plamately lobed
unlobed with teeth
fascicles

In the style of Niedecker

Cherry blossom bunch
    at the window fades
                (pink then white)
    in the sun

I was tan
    for you
        once.

Insult #1

The games
I play with him,
I would gladly play with you,
but you lack the medium
through which I work:

words.

Cold Snap

The cold snap hit hard
and the tomato plant withered
to brown in a week.

Without its viney presence,
the small yard looked cramped and lonely
on the street of flowers and grass,
without red fruit
the house learned to grow dimmer
as winter came.

Until finally,
the cacti hiding beneath the rosemary
were the sole survivors of the frost.

Star Signs

Paint orion on my back
with kisses and bites
and I will remember
that I must stop you
for when morning comes
I must return you
from my starry sea to your fire love.

Whitman

In the door-yard
fronting an old farm-house,
near the white-wash’d palings,

Stands the lilac bush,
tall-growing,
with heart-shaped leaves of rich green

With many a pointed blossom,
rising, delicate,
with the perfume strong I love

With every leaf a miracle
and from this bush
in the door-yard,

With delicate-color’d blossoms,
and heart-shaped leaves of rich green,    
A sprig, with its flower, I break.

Lines

I have missed your mouth most,
the smile as well as the kisses,
and though I respect this boundary I have made,
I still begrudge the person for whom I made it.

When the first leaf fell...

When the first leaf fell,
it drifted down the rough bark of your face
before landing on the ground.

The next day,
with bare branches,
I saw the haunted look in your eyes.

Last Word

He said,
"You are a fragile egg.
Whoever cried when one broke?"

Come September

Come September
the leaves curled into themselves
like small children hiding from the cold snap.
When the drops of rain
fell like blows
they hid so deep
into themselves
that their muscles cramped
and the strain of
overlong tension
made them fall from the branch.

Lees Corner

How many times
have I driven
this same stretch of
pavement and thought
myself going home?

Bedsheets

I must give you up,
my security blanket
and let you rest
on someone else's bed
before I learn to share sheets
with this new comforter,
who may
one day
become my security blanket.

4am Rain

The night I promised myself
I would stop
loving you
you kissed me on the cheek
and told me
    I was the best
girl.

You held me as I held
my sobbing friend
wavering on my high heeled
whiskey filled feet.

     When we left so she
could cry
              alone
you stayed with us
distracted us
with talk of video games
and the little jokes
that run
amongst our friends.

     When we sat in the back
of my truck
and it began to rain,
  it felt
like a movie
    soft
and tasting like 4:30am.

I wanted to kiss you
but your girl was right
up the road

Chapstick

First her tongue
licks the top lip
then the bottom
and slowly rolls
the bottom one
between teeth
which only graze
before the mouth is
left open
and her eyes close.

Because I cannot

Because I cannot cry while awake
     I weep for you in my dreams.
Because I cannot see you in the day
     I hold you in my thoughts at night.
Because I work to ignore my feelings
     My nightmares become my release.
Because I never saw a sign of the future written on your face
     I lie awake waiting to unravel.

After the Party

In our sleep,
our limbs curled
around each other,

begging that the other
not leave
but when morning came
with coffee and consequences,

we sat
in our separate chairs
and never mentioned
the tell tale marks
from the night before.

June 23rd

To the girl who taught me to wear skirts-

You could lick your elbow
    and wore teacup hats.

I'll never learn to walk in heels like you can
    Or to knit.

Or ever manage
to find the wine glass tokens
that perfectly fit the personality of each guest.

Never staple condoms to paper plates
and call them lunch table award.

Never tease you
about wearing a bunny slipper to a bar-
            only one cause two would just be silly.

And now
I can barely keep myself
from calling your phone to hear your voice
    mail because i think I'm forgetting your voice.

I can only hear you
in the dimness of my head
echoing off the insides
until it is only softness and a smile which is left.

and now I don't know if I can say that I miss you,
        my dear Caitling.

To the woman who made me
        dance in sprinklers
        and who hated her knees
but loved her ankles-

I love you.

RIP Caitlin

I will miss you so much.

RIP Jeff

Marine dead in Miramar barracks ID’d



Staff report
Posted : Wednesday Apr 29, 2009 10:09:26 EDT
OCEANSIDE, Calif. — Officials are investigating the death of a Marine who was found dead April 23 in his barracks room at Miramar Marine Corps Air Station in San Diego.

The Marine was identified as Pvt. Jeffrey D. Ghen, a native of Fairfax Station, Va., said Miramar spokesman Cpl. Sean McGinty in a statement.

Ghen, who enlisted on Aug. 21, 2006, worked as a helicopter airframe mechanic with Marine Heavy Helicopter Squadron 462, Marine Aircraft Group 16, at Miramar, McGinty said. The cause of death remained under investigation.

The military medals and decorations that Ghan[sic] had earned include the National Defense Service Medal, Global War on Terrorism Service Medal, Iraqi Campaign Medal, Afghanistan Campaign Medal, NATO Medal and a Sea Service Deployment Ribbon.

http://www.marinecorpstimes.com/news/2009/04/marine_miramar_id_042809/

A Bit Too Much Sharing

I am a victim of rape but you will not find my name in a police report, and three months later, I lost my virginity to a man I thought I loved.

It is the one thing i have never forgiven someone for, because he was the first one who did it.

His was not the physical rape that I would find out about later with the afore mentioned love of my life, his was the crawl into my bed while sleeping off the rum he slipped in large quantities into the flat coke he served me when I came in. He was the kiss even when I begged him to stop, because his girlfriend was downstairs and my arms weren't working right. His was the peel off my pants as I tried to keep them up but my fingers couldn't grasp properly and his was the lay on top of me only to find that he was too drunk to perform.

He doesn't think he did anything wrong, and I prayed that he would get sent to Iraq and die. His was the harshest betrayal because, at 17, I thought I could trust him, because he was dating one of my friends and she was more than willing so why would he even need me.

But he didn't go to Iraq, didn't get killed and I see him sometimes on campus, on my friend's pages when he posts a comment, or in stores when I visit my friends in the western part of the county.

His not-rape was more damaging than my actual rape, and my heart still seizes when i see him and i want to run away so far that i run into the pacific ocean. But instead when he walks past I duck my head and pray he never realizes we go to the same school still.

Acceptance to Volition

Congratulations on the acceptance of your work into the Volition's Spring 2009 issue!

We are in the process of finalizing the layout, and it will be sent to the publisher soon.

**Before we can send it out, it is important for you to send us how you want your name to appear in the issue to avoid discrepancies. Pen names are accepted.

Please reply as soon as possible. The faster you reply, the sooner we can get the issue printed. It is preferable that you reply by this Thursday (04/02/2009) the latest before noon.

*Also, Volition is holding an Open Mic Night event April 30th from 8pm-11pm in the JC Cinema.

It is going to be a big event, with the Undergraduate English Society and Independent Arts Collective co-sponsoring the event. The new Volition issue will be distributed. It is an opportunity for you to share your recently published work to a wide range audience, and to check out the amazing talent at Mason. There will be free food as always.

Hope to hear from you soon!

Lizzy and Amber

Co-editors-in-chief

Lenguas

Voy a hablar con ti
en la lengua de tu madre
porque me antoja
que las palabras en ésa lengua.

Pero mis palabras
que necesite menos
de lo que necesite
mis labios en tu cuello y espalda.

Espero a que aún esta lengua
que sólo hablan cuando cansado
que se le susurró
en mi oído
como el sueño a mi lado

In English:
I will speak to you
in the language of your mother
because i crave
your words in that language

but my words
you need less
thank you need
my lips on your neck and back

I only hope that this, the language
you only speak while tired
is the one you will whisper 
in my ear
as you sleep beside me

Morning Afters

Como él habló conmigo,
me comí sus palabras,
creyendo que eran para mí.

Pero sus palabras son
para mis besos,
no para mí,
para mis labios,
no para mí,
para mis brazos
y todo lo mio ahora
es suyo


In English:

When he spoke to me
I ate his words
believing they were for me


But his words are
for my kisses
not for me
for my lips 
not for me
for my arms
and all that was mine
is now his

Why Rives is my favorite Slam Poet

"if you still cannot fathom the imagery and ecstasy of
eons or ions
spun into speech
from your actual spasms
by a soul, in a room,
with an immortal mouth
gnashing loudly for true love over loneliness
and moaning to the moon, the moon, the ever-loving moon
so that all the neighbors know it --

-- if you can't fathom that,
don't fuck a poet." from Dirty Talk by Rives
"Last night I dreamt
I was little again and
I could hear back then
but the silence in my house
was deafening."  from Sign Language by Rives

"I was born
as deaf and as quiet as a starfish
but if I had been born a man
I would pray
to the lord above
every night at the top
of my fucking lungs
just to thank him
for giving me
voice." from Sign Language by Rives

"And then maybe I...played with myself,
and it's exactly what you're thinking.
But if I did, it was only to put
the mental motion picture of our naked night together
on replay and replay and replay
so touching myself was just like...
Tivo in a way." from Kite by Rives

"Just so you know--

My weird mind wanders and my brave heart breaks.
I've nailed some milestones, but I've made mistakes,
Cuz I got more faults than a map of California earthquakes.

I am taking a nap beneath your covers.
Wake me if you like me.
Wake me if you want me
Wake me if you need another poem.

Your once and future lover
has made himself at home." from Kite by Rives

Israel

I understand that I am supposed to support Israel's defense of itself as a sovereign nation.
I understand that Palestine committed the first attack 30 or more years ago.
I understand that this is the first time in history that a Hebrew nation has existed as a independent government.

Just because we have been killed, tortured and enslaved does not give us the right to do it to others.

I would rather see Israel burnt to the ground that become the killer of children and the torturer of women.

It is our responsibility to stop this.
It is our duty to stop this.
It is for us to stop this.

A sof!

Never Again