Tuesday, April 09, 2019

Wabbit (For Kat)

https://www.podomatic.com/podcasts/charlespoet/episodes/2019-04-09T14_58_10-07_00

ADJECTIVE
Scottish
predicative
Exhausted or slightly unwell.

‘I'm feeling a bit wabbit’

Told me wabbit was my next poem and I followed her lead because she hasn’t been wrong yet
Leads me by my consonants and vowels like a roulette wheel to the liberated stars
I was broken down and busted and only her context pulled me through the meat and potatoes storm

Came out of the FB ether like a traveling salesman in a Maysles documentary where youth springs eternal once you open the grey door and buy a bible from a thief in the gas chamber night
They broke the windows and did their worst because vigilante justice is oftentimes the only way to make your point when justice has become skewed for those wearing white pointy hoods
Sometimes I like to go out into the middle of the street like Mary Tyler Moore, throw my hat up in the air and scream I am a Jew hear me ROAR!

Nothing feels better than when her invisible self sits on my invisible lap and we swap stories of our storied childhoods
When you find someone who champions you no matter how apoplectic you are it’s time to put a ring on their finger and settle down
Even though I’m not Scottish I knew what she meant when saying she was feeling “Quite wobbly and wabbit.”, and it made me wish I could hold her tight until she again felt right or the world burned all around us

Charles Cicirella
4/9/19

Nestled in the crane of your neck. (For Kat)

https://www.podomatic.com/podcasts/charlespoet/episodes/2019-04-09T13_45_33-07_00

I write
I wrong
None of it makes any difference anyhow

Simple syrup
High fructose crack
Lost in the pavement of her vaudeville love

Want to make love to her when we’re both asleep
My best lines come when consciousness is slapped down hard
What I desire and what I’ve settled for are cosmos apart

I am wrong
I am right
None of it makes any difference now

Charles Cicirella
4/8/2019

Monday, April 08, 2019

Unanswered Questions (For Kat)

https://www.podomatic.com/podcasts/charlespoet/episodes/2019-04-08T13_27_07-07_00

I don’t bully
Got milk?
Chaste

Somnambulist
Cattle rustler
Nothing up my sleeve

Patient zero
Killing ground
Paradise reassembled

I don’t drink
Got whisky?
Tuckered out

Charles Cicirella
4/8/19

Saturday, April 06, 2019

Naked Dreaming (For Kat)

https://www.podomatic.com/podcasts/charlespoet/episodes/2019-04-06T01_17_00-07_00

Not liberated enough to sleep naked
It’s on my bucket list with going to Amsterdam
And being punched out by a kangaroo

I literary think of your breasts
Poetic license only takes me so far
Before I’m carried away by the grammar police

You’ve drawn the boundaries in sidewalk chalk
“I bless the rains down in Africa”
Jumping rope leaves me tangled up in blue

Not forward thinking enough to stop masturbating
It’s all in the twist of the wrist and the stellar glide of your arched back in the pained moonlight
I know when the lights go out your inhibitions stop playing hard to get

Shame on me for thinking of you in a physical sense
When I heard your voice it was all over for me
It channels future memories I cannot wait to live and relive endlessly

Charles Cicirella
4/5/19

Monday, April 01, 2019

Thank you for seeing me. (For Kat Boyd)

https://www.podomatic.com/podcasts/charlespoet/episodes/2019-04-01T18_59_01-07_00

The poetry is right here waiting to be peeled like a grape
I was catatonic, nonplussed, broken into sections of bitter resentment
You exploded upon my cosseted scene like a Freedom Rider into the segregated south

I don’t want to stop believing, but sometimes you have no other choice
In fact that’s not true and belief must be never ending like Mickey Mouse’s enthusiasm
She appeared before me as a hologram and I knelt down and seriously prayed

This poem is coming out in fits and starts like a murder of crows or the assassination of a very bad peanut
I watched him from afar as he painted the burning visions in his wheat field head
She poured the turpentine onto her thirsty brushes like it was Gatorade and took a sip

I want to drink from Kat’s loving cup while wearing a blindfold
There’s nothing wrong with channeling ghosts as long as the ghosts don’t go postal and turn you into a haunted house
You told me you were shy, but nothing could have been further from the truth when you taught me a new language with your hands and feet bound to my consciousness

Charles Cicirella
4/1/19