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Showing posts with label siren. Show all posts
Showing posts with label siren. Show all posts

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Rat-A-Tat Tah-Tahs [Today's News Poem, March 26, 2011]

Rat-A-Tat Tah-Tahs [Today's News Poem, March 26, 2011]

The sexy empowered with fuck imagination
Powered the office, and powered the celibate marriages.
The daughter of catsuits and hooker boots boxed after college,
Discovered her mother's vagina; her daddy's revolver.
Her Lexus swerves, ricochets off of the panels of cars, off lanes.
And if credit cards bounce, then just launch off a penis
A pogo; then dress in a suit. Go sell houses, insurance;
Your body's a weapon to copy by internet; to copy and
Touch with our eyes. While we handle our organs
You handle a pistol and load it and fire—it's cute so it's safe—
It is pink, therefore gentle. Oh you siren, you call us by testes,
We call back by phone then we enter your lair where you crash us on bullets.
You'll get on a show, you'll be famous and author some books
And appear at the rallies, the NRA rallies, to vanquish the losers of Onan
You fine fucking thing, with your tatas, dentatas,
A rat-a-tat-tah-tah; don't give me sons, give me daughters!

"Meghan Brown, a former Florida pageant queen, shot and killed 42-year-old Albert Franklin Hill during a home invasion March 12 at the 2,732-square-foot house she shares with her fiance in Tierra Verde, Fla."
—Cristina Corbin, FoxNews.com, Published March 22, 2011
http://www.foxnews.com/us/2011/03/22/armed-beauty-queen-fatally-shoots-intruder-florida-home-invasion/



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Thursday, July 01, 2010

Kiss From a Neon Siren [Today's News Poem, July 1, 2010]

Kiss From a Neon Siren [Today's News Poem, July 1, 2010]

Follow the lights and you'll drive to your bliss.
Tunnels of halogens guide you, with signs
Lighting the path—an electrical kiss.
Follow your whim; it's the pathway's design.
Locking your door made of glass has no use.
Smile at the strangers with predator grins.
Bottles are finished and both of you choose
Pleasure and vibrate with unified skins:
Masters tonight, but by morning are slaves.
Hangover breakfast, an awkward caress;
Coffee; a toothbrush—he rapidly shaves:
Pantomime game—you play house as you dress.
Daylight delivers the deadline you dread—
Both of you caught in the bars of the ray—
Everything's possible, costly and spread
Out for the taking; a trap made of pay.

“President Obama pressed Congress on Thursday to pass comprehensive immigration legislation to fix a “fundamentally broken” system by toughening enforcement of existing laws while creating a path to citizenship for many of the 11 million people in the United States illegally.”
– Peter Baker, The New York Times, July 1, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/02/us/politics/02obama.html



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Monday, June 14, 2010

Origami Theremin vs Lady Luck's Maker [Twitter Found Poem, June 14, 2010]

Origami Theremin vs Lady Luck's Maker [Twitter Found Poem, June 14, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

Lady Luck commands my eviction.
I expect Mt. Scott to erupt pretty soon.
I expect earthquakes, a blizzard, ice, tornado, hail and flooding.
I expect ENERGY !!!!!!!!!!!!

it was just the power. i was shaking.
nobody else joined my theremin quest!
Even though the theremin alarm Siren
Kills Over 9000 and looks cool.

There's no time to waste!
Point to the left and ride that wave
of ENERGY!!!!!!!!!!!!
to meet my maker...
I fold my eviction notice into an origami
theremin alarm Siren...
and yes, my shit started blinking...
and yes earthquakes, a blizzard, ice,
tornado, hail and flooding... ENERGY
powers my origami theremin alarm Siren...

my quest: going to meet Lady Lucks maker
going to Point my origami theremin alarm Siren
at Lady Lucks maker...
going to Point to the left and ride that wave!!!!!!!!!!!!

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Tuesday, June 08, 2010

Conduit for the Void [Today's News Poem (Sonnet), June 8, 2010]

Conduit for the Void [Today's News Poem (Sonnet), June 8, 2010]

My legs were useless, so I added wheels.
My lungs were weak, a siren takes their place.
I see potential everywhere. I heal
The wounds of possibility with grace:
Aborting what will only suffer woe...
Improving incompleteness... making wholes
From parts and parts from wholes... and what I grow
From nothing makes me godlike—what's a soul
But air? What frames the null with sound and lights?
The disco blue and red of cops that scream
Along with megaphones—a bus ignites
Its engine, silver jets above me gleam...
Yes, everything's connected through the void
With shrieks: the sound we've always best enjoyed.

“Mr. Campbell continues to struggle with the effects of the deluge of data. Even after he unplugs, he craves the stimulation he gets from his electronic gadgets. He forgets things like dinner plans, and he has trouble focusing on his family.”
– Matt Richtel, The New York Times, June 8, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/07/technology/07brain.html?ref=technology

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