Chamblee54

Catalog Part Five

Posted in Poem by chamblee54 on June 27, 2018


coffee cigarettes whiskey dope – free verse almost never free
poetryzac won’t help you cope – copacetic dog synchronicity
preacher shouting prose g-ddamn – writer pants stay up all the time
crack ultra violent poetry slam – fine print prose will never rhyme
poet music will make you dance – knee jerk hip hop broken ass
prose puts money in your pants – too much fail to take a class

Why I Don’t Say The N-Word
the n-word hurts my neighbor
if wrong person hears me say the n-word i get hurt fired sued
the n-word is not a fair fight no word like it for white people
becky cracker honky don’t match negative power of either -a or -er
the n-word demeans people who say the n-word why hurt myself?

chicken-headery clitoris cow – cunnilingus dependent ecstasy
exponential fellatio gentleman – immediate jumbotron orgasm – penetrative position possible

talk to me with your mouth full – tease me like a dirty hornbag you
gag reflex kicks in jaw snapping – don’t have to take your clothes off
glorious gob round my knob – gobblin’ gums around my plums – youthful uber upside my goober

The week before July 10, 2016, was rough.Two black men were shot dead by police. Five Dallas police were killed by a sniper. I knew there would be a lot of black emotion at Java Monkey. The best thing for a white man to do was to be there, and listen. I brought a smutty poem, sixtynine more words, to read. The rest of the time, I was quiet, and let other people speak.

One of the other white men felt the same way. He opened his poem by saying that it was not his struggle, and it was not appropriate for him to speak. (Those were not the exact words.) I spoke to him at intermission. He said to think about this… what if you were a black person, coming to read on a night with much black pain. You looked in the audience, and there were no white people to listen?

Two weeks earlier, a young lady was talking about her natural hair. There was a comment about how *white* hands like to touch this hair. After this comment was made, a loud round of applause, and laughter, rose from the room. I was puzzled, and just a wee bit hurt. I have never had the slightest desire to touch a black lady’s hair.

So the evening went. The names of Timothy Hill and Gerard Foster were not spoken. They were two men shot to death during the previous week. Mr. Foster was in a Decatur apartment complex, walking distance from Java Monkey. Mr. Hill was in a gas station parking lot, less than ten miles from Java Monkey. Mr. Hill was a bystander, when two men had a dispute over a parking spot.

java monkey speaks black white mix americas bad week
two black men shot dead by police
best thing for white man to do is be there listen
not your struggle not appropriate – read your smutty poem shut up

first they came for the rich i clicked like on facebook
then they came for #racists i tweeted a #woke #hashtag
then they came for truth tellers i gave my #thoughts&prayers
then they came for me

when in doubt quit talking – not everyone enjoys hearing your voice
listen twice as much as you talk – anger and loud talk make things worse
use name of g-d with kindness respect – understand if you want to be understood
forgive if you want to be forgiven

autoerotic bj becky bestiality – blow me blumpkin blumpy bob
boss brain canoodle captain chair – chicken head chrome commander
deep throat dine at the Y furburger – eat foam give brain gobby goose
headmaster hoover hover hummer – knob knowledge manipulation
munch carpet nosh peck play – rusty trombone skin flute skull
slob knob slurpin gherkin smack – smoke pole square away swallow

I picked a good year to start performing poetry in Decatur. In August of 2016, Decatur hosted the National Poetry Slam. I don’t do slams, but felt the urge to help out as a volunteer. I wound up working three days, with mixed results. On Wednesday, I worked at the haiku slam. The emcee put me to work on signing up contestants. It got a bit frantic, but wound up being fun. The next event was “Black Poets Speak Out.” The anger was more than I could handle, and I left. Your right to be angry does not include my obligation to listen.

I thought that was it for me, until I saw an email asking for more volunteers at the semi finals. The event was held on the beautiful Agnes Scott campus. As usual, there was not a lot to do, except stand in back of the auditorium and watch.

Glori B., from Austin TX, performed a piece about rape. There was a lot of fast, loud, angry talking. I missed some of the qualifying details. What I did hear was at the end. This is not a verbatim quote. “Men, if you want to know what rape culture is, it is you.” While Gloria B might not have meant that…. that men were rape culture … that is the message the I heard. When people are shouting, subtleties and nuance go out the window. What comes through is the message… YOU ARE RAPE CULTURE. Slam is not a subtle medium. You go for the impact, and the details don’t matter.

Glori B, and a partner, had a piece later in the show. The two women shouted, both standing up and crouched over. The piece could be summed up by a haiku Glori B did wednesday… again, this is not a verbatim quote… call me bitch and that gives me permission to show you what one is. The piece was extremely well received by the audience. As for confusing Glori B with a lady dog …

Sonnet Number Two
bake brownies blow mud build a log cabin – bust a grumpie burn a mule blow ordure
code brown crap factory get happy win – lubrication defecation manure
discharge doo doo craptastic driver ball – drop kids off bomber pool hot honkey night
wolf bait trout duke it out go down the hall – dump trump wailin’ palin burger delight
deep fried twinkie luther burger breakfast – regurgitation free the turtle fast
expel shy hamster dumper diver lunch – grease the bowl grow a tail corpulent crunch
fly fecal matter effluent sinner – give birth to future state trooper dinner

@blackedpoetry how to make new blackout poetry
1- find an old book magazine or newspaper and a black marker
2- let the phrases find you
It was about this time that I made friends with blackout poetry. The idea is simple. Take a sheet of paper, and use magic markers to blot out all the words that don’t fit your agenda. Here are a few examples of traditional blackout poetry. I decided that editing hard copy with ink was crude and messy. You can do it easier with a computer.

How To Write A Poem
avoid all clichés know your goal – communicate theme pimp your soul
glorious image simile metaphor – concrete word that will never bore
don’t do sentimental revise revise – subvert fabulous ordinary lies
always rhyme with extreme caution – over the road to daydream has been

one two three for even laughter – a pair of odds the numbers after
mythical zero prelude four five – total six seven eight nine survive

i saw the debate i stayed up late – worried for the blue and the red
listened to trump who took a big dump – while a man shot a citizen dead
i saw trump slither heard hillary dither – feel my brother’s pain how is he insane
this will not end very well

The big story in 2016 was the election of Donald J. Trump as President of the United States. I did not write many poems about this unfolding horror story. If you can’t say anything good, don’t say anything at all. The Democrats blew it. They lose an election to a dangerous idiot. The Democrats thought if they called Donald J. Trump a racist, then it would help Hillary Clinton win. It did not work. Now we have a deplorable man as President, and the racial divide is worse than ever.

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