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TGAP 3 Week 05 May 01, 2011

TGAP Week 05 Artwork by Cameron Ouellette

You slash verse from the budget,
Until it’s got no place
In the curriculum you claim

Reading a mathematical
Text and rote memorization
Of tainted historical facts are
The cure for all that ails us (which
To you is simply the
l
a
g
g
ing e-con-
o-me.) While,

The Poet Laureate sits in
A swanky Washington office and
Fumbles with his pen, wondering
“Why the fuck am I here?” Searching
For a job description (an-
y – where) when he knows

Across The Mall ogres
Argue against art.

So, he swooshes the air
With a sword that seems
To have lost its point. Slammed
Into this world, born 

Artists, naked in this story,
(for every yin, a yang,
every tick, a tock,
every flip, a flop,

for every battlefield casualty, a premature birth)

We know, Mr. Conservative,
Why you hate poetry
And wish you could bury
It in some sandy lot next
To back copies of the New
York Times
: the truth makes
An ass of you, the butt
Of each joke in poetry and its mirror
News of words.

And time,
Well, time reveals
Your task, Mr. Laureate –

Take that pen down
From above the hearth
To remind us why 

Each stanza matters.

This is my submission for Week 05 of the Twingeekz Artz Project 3. 

TwinGeekz is a loose affiliation of loose affiliates in New Hampshire who began the TwinGeekz Artz Project challenge in May of 2005; the task was for each of the original seven participants to produce and submit a piece of art every week for one year.  Every artist succeeded in completing their 52 pieces of art, and thus the TGAP theory was proven: “all creativity needs is a deadline”. 

We grew each of the three years that the project continued. It’s time to bring it back. 

Let’s do it again! #tgap2020 join us!

December 31, 2016

Cats don't care about Trump,
(Even if he is a pussy-grabber.)
The day after the election,
They didn't hiss and pull out their fur
In grief, worry, and outright

Anger. No. They got up.
Played with hair ties
And tiny fabric mice.
They asked for treats
And chased their tails;

They curled into tight balls
And napped. Around them,
Morning rose high amid
Our collective disbelief
That some could hold

Their own country
In such low esteem
To vote that way -

But the cats each purred,
Rolled onto their backs,
Invited us to rub
Their stomachs.



This wraps up the year-long Poem (almost) Everyday Project. This, Poem #230 (not 241 as originally erroneously counted), was the last of the writing that was perhaps my best therapist during one hell of a tumultuous year. One that began with the deaths of Bowie, Richman, and Prince and ended with the deaths of Michaels and Fisher. One in which I experienced exceptional workplace drama, and where an outdated electoral system decreed a bullying troll had been “elected” and would occupy the White House.

But, thanks to poetry, we can survive much.

Now, onto a new project for 2020. Put your ass-to-chair and keep writing.

December 30, 2016

Behold the scary blank page.
Novels do not write themselves,
And antique cars will not magically
evolve into something sleek
And drivable. Front yard gardens

Need planting, weeding, general
Tending to grow, luscious and ripe.
A new year begins, so resolve
To make that which you've

Imagined an activity of
Distraction.

This is Poem #229 from the  Poem (almost) Everyday Project. Starting in mid-January 2016, I challenged myself to spend a year in which I’d wake most mornings and write a poem before my first cup of coffee. By the end of the year,  I had written 241 230 poems.  (Seems my math was off.)

Here, I have published second drafts of  those pieces copied directly from my journal with minimal editing from their “vomit draft” state.

Just one more will take us to the end of 2016.

December 28, 2016

It is not a game, but they are

Playing like it is.

Seven billion People hang, waiting for the next

Round – whether the dice will roll

Their way. It seems

We have all been forced

To skip a turn. Powerless we watch

The token few waltz

Around the board, breaking

The rules. (Scarfing up

Park Place only to burn

It down.)

Nothing makes sense,

Like a little child

Driving a car around

The board, oblivious

To the object of the game

And the ways that we

All can somehow

Win at its conclusion.

This is Poem #228 from the  Poem (almost) Everyday Project. Starting in mid-January 2016, I challenged myself to spend a year in which I’d wake most mornings and write a poem before my first cup of coffee. By the end of the year,  I had written 241 230 poems.  (Seems my math was off.)

Here, I have published second drafts of  those pieces copied directly from my journal with minimal editing from their “vomit draft” state.

Just two more will take us to the end of 2016.

TGAP 3 Week #2

Artwork from TGAP3 Week 1 by fellow geek: Sue O’Connor
She said, “There are still
Areas of flood with bodies
Floating. They – the UN-
Haven’t gotten to them
Yet.”
 
I suppose you have to hydrate
The living
Before you can pan
For the dead.
Artwork by fellow geek: Michael S. Piper

TwinGeekz is a loose affiliation of loose affiliates in New Hampshire who began the TwinGeekz Artz Project challenge in May of 2005; the task was for each of the original seven participants to produce and submit a piece of art every week for one year.  Every artist succeeded in completing their 52 pieces of art, and thus the TGAP theory was proven: “all creativity needs is a deadline”. 

Let’s do it again! #tgap2020 join us!

Week #1 TGAP3 April 2011

There is no rationalizing ones self
Out of true grief. It is there,
Pervasive and insistent in all
You do. As you scoop the catbox, or
Redecorate the dining room, it has collected,
A puddle of piss, in some sharp
Corner of the room that beats,
In wait of a lucid moment.
 
And a little daughter’s righteous
Anger (new haircuts, cleaned
wounds, fed pets) at the world and ugly
Decaying Mr. Death will not
Cloak her from this drizzle
of fop and circumstance
that pools around her
motionless ankles.


Artwork by fellow Geek Robyn Piper for Week 1 of TGAP3

 TwinGeekz is a loose affiliation of loose affiliates in New Hampshire who began the TwinGeekz Artz Project challenge in May of 2005; the task was for each of the original seven participants to produce and submit a piece of art every week for one year.  Every artist succeeded in completing their 52 pieces of art, and thus the TGAP theory was proven: “all creativity needs is a deadline”. 

Let’s do it again! #tgap2020 join us!

Week #43 from the TwinGeekz Artz Project 3 January 23, 2012

I can write recess from memory-
broken swings and hearted-boys.
 
I can write with each ounce of
truth I tried to shake
out of your mouth.
 
I can write with lazy summer
days under a hot Tuscan sun.
 
I can write with dripping
dizziness memories of the way
I loved you.
 
I can write with meth-
lab nights and heroin
afternoons.
 
I can write with coffee stains.
 
I can write with twinkling
lights of good things past.
 
I can write with the icy
fingers of my righteous anger.
 
I can write with a broken, shy
little girl in a yellow, satin nightgown.
 
I can write with the loss of you.
TGAP theory in Graphic Poetry form,  featuring the original seven Geekz.
 (Geek w.c. pelon submitted 52 weeks of Graphic Poetry during TGAP 1.)

  TwinGeekz is a loose affiliation of loose affiliates in New Hampshire who began the TwinGeekz Artz Project challenge in May of 2005; the task was for each of the original seven participants to produce and submit a piece of art every week for one year.  Every artist succeeded in completing their 52 pieces of art, and thus the TGAP theory was proven: “all creativity needs is a deadline”. 

Let’s do it again! #tgap2020 join us!

December 27, 2016

The bad pearl twirls
And collects more to grow
After it sets itself
In an oyster mind.

The expanding gem of disaster
Blocks out the lightness
Of daily living to make
Doom the new norm.

It's easy to care for, this
Developing smoothness, rolling
Around until it's so gigantic
It's become a fixed mass in grey

Matter. What's the matter?
The question long forgotten,
The sand and initiation,
Like dirt in the eye,
That started it all.

Even that's no longer
Visible or available
For inspection

Under the perfect roundness
Of this entity.


This is Poem #227 from the  Poem (almost) Everyday Project. Starting in mid-January 2016, I challenged myself to spend a year in which I’d wake most mornings and write a poem before my first cup of coffee. By the end of the year,  I had written 241 poems.  Here, I have published second drafts of  those pieces copied directly from my journal with minimal editing from their “vomit draft” state.

December 26, 2016

Good Christian men and women want
To rejoice, and for eight years
We could. Now, all spells
Doom and we make room

In our hears and lives
To take up arms against
A sea of troubles. Perhaps,
A literal one, as those who

Deny science take power
In the name of greed

At the expense of creed.

This is Poem #226 from the  Poem (almost) Everyday Project. Starting in mid-January 2016, I challenged myself to spend a year in which I’d wake most mornings and write a poem before my first cup of coffee. By the end of the year,  I had written 241 poems.  Here, I have published second drafts of  those pieces copied directly from my journal with minimal editing from their “vomit draft” state.

December 24, 2016

We are all on the same schedule.
The cats, in some Pavlovian
Evolution, know the alarm
Will sound, bladders full,

They pounce, meow,
Knock things off of the counter.
A pre-alarm wake-up chirp.
These fuzzy greeters,

Each day, welcome the joy
Of just being alive
And waking to cat treats,
Kisses, and pats.

Dishes full and water refreshed.
Remember that. Each day
You wake up, you are
Already blossoming.

This is Poem #225 from the  Poem (almost) Everyday Project. Starting in mid-January 2016, I challenged myself to spend a year in which I’d wake most mornings and write a poem before my first cup of coffee. By the end of the year,  I had written 241 poems.  Here, I have published second drafts of  those pieces copied directly from my journal with minimal editing from their “vomit draft” state.

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