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Category: My poems

POEM: Avalon (November Poem-A-Day 9)

Published 10 November 2010 by Jason Crane

Poem #8 for the November Poem-A-Day challenge. Today’s prompt was to write a “slow down” or “speed up” poem. I watched the documentary Crips And Bloods: Made In America today, which starts by talking about the 1965 urban rebellion in Watts, Los Angeles. This poem is attempt to slow down one moment of the so-called riots.

Avalon

the brick leaves
                the young man’s hand

arcs gracefully through
                the air

the spotlight from the police car
                catches it in flight

tumbling now

t u m b l i n g

there is all the

W t O i R m L e D

                now the cop
                rises from his crouch
                head just above the door
                of his patrol car

he sights down the barrel of his pistol

sees the black head of the enemy

draws in breath, pauses to steady
                his aim

moves his index finger to the trigger

starts    to    squeeze

                a corner of the brick hits him
                just above his left eye
                tears through skin, chips bone
                one down

Watts burns

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POEM: Pro-Bono (November Poem-A-Day 7)

Published 7 November 2010 by Jason Crane

Poem #7 for November Poem-A-Day challenge. Today’s prompt is to write a “pro-” poem.

Pro-Bono

Even though the glasses are a little goofy.
But hey, he’s been a star since the 80s,
And big glasses were the rage then, too.
Are there still people who call him Paul?
Old friends from high school who remember
When he would get called names because
He was an artsy kid, not a jock?
When I was in high school, all my female friends
Started breathing heavily while we watched
Rattle and Hum, cross swaying against his bare chest,
Running his hands through his long sweaty hair.
This is not a rebel song. It’s hard to be a rebel
When you’re worth 200 million dollars
And have had lunch with presidents, popes and the
Dalai Lama. Still, though, he thinks the rich countries
Should give the poor a break. He appreciates
Leonard Cohen. And he once stole a song from
Charles Manson.

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POEM: Looking for the right pair of jeans (November Poem-A-Day 6)

Published 6 November 2010 by Jason Crane

Poem #6 for the November Poem-A-Day challenge.

Looking for the right pair of jeans

jeans that will make me look good without
actually having to lose the weight

the jeans I wore that night you came into the club
with the unsavory character who played in the band

jeans that will make young women turn
and look again, rather than look away

the jeans I had before I wore the same size
my dad wears, 20 years before he needed them

I went shopping at Macy’s with my mom and
a woman from Montreal

a long line of other men waiting while I came out
of the dressing room in one pair after another

looking in the mirror and waiting
for the magic to happen

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POEM: The Second Pig Was A Bad Carpenter (November Poem-A-Day 5)

Published 5 November 2010 by Jason Crane

Poem #5 for the November Poem-A-Day challenge.

The Second Pig Was A Bad Carpenter

My mother bought my clothes until
I went to college. On my own, I still
avoided sex and held to old rules.
Out west I changed my hair, sharpened tools
began to build a stronger frame
on which to hang new hopes, a new name.
I have repainted this house so many
times I can’t recall which color, if any
lies at its heart, its core.
So I add another layer, then one more.

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POEM: maki yaki (November Poem-A-Day 1)

Published 1 November 2010 by Jason Crane

Poem #1 for the November Poem-A-Day challenge.

It means “cooked sushi roll”

maki yaki
(mine are raw, though)
terrible house music on the speakers
(but I’m wearing headphones to block it out)
the concrete block hangs above, suspended by a thread
(mom says not to worry, it won’t fall)
wasabi shoots through my sinuses
(stirs an already agitated brain)
my nerves are raw
(maki yaki)

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POEM: tornado watch

Published 3 October 2010 by Jason Crane

tornado watch

the restaurant sign is lying
on its side on the sidewalk
we have no hatches to batten
in this city of weak wind
but the world is changing
and you don’t need a weatherman
to know the wind is stronger
I went backward on my bike today
with the wind like a wide-open palm
pushing again my chest

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VIDEO POEM: sideways world

Published 2 October 2010 by Jason Crane

Inspired by Dave Bonta’s one-minute video poem, here’s my first-ever attempt at mixing video and poetry.

Here’s the text of the poem:

sideways world

I ride my bicycle in a sideways world
keeping my balance while the cars pass overhead
and the cars path beneath
I wear a helmet in case I should fall
though I don’t know in which direction
gravity would take me

I am the only inhabitant of this sideways world
everyone else appears to be walking
at a right angle to me

we don’t make eye contact

I asked you once to go for a ride with me
you tried, but you couldn’t balance
and so I ride by myself in this sideways world
looking for a sideways companion to join me

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POEM: what we choose to remember

Published 1 October 2010 by Jason Crane

what we choose to remember

in the park on the hill
trees shade the monuments
to the dead, the killed

mottled sunlight hits the plumes
of a fountain, the breeze
carries mist down the hill
toward the center of the city

a man with twitching legs
smokes pot on a bench
in front of the courthouse

do this in memory of me

there’s a rainbow on the east side
of the fountain
I’m glad I don’t live here

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POEM: but you don’t answer

Published 30 September 2010 by Jason Crane

but you don’t answer

it’s the second song of the night
(the vibraphonist is playing a solo)
when I get that feeling in my stomach

the one you get as the roller coaster
goes over the top of the first hill
right before it picks up speed
but after it’s too late to get off

I can usually lose myself in music
but tonight I’m already lost

the quieter the band plays
the easier it is for me to hear the rush
of blood through my veins

this place is called the Whisper Room
because you can whisper on one side
and someone can hear you on the other

so I whisper your name

and wait

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