ariyahjoseph

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i have been writing poetry for eight years now i guess my style is stream of consciousness and is usually about dreams, jazz and alternate solutions and universes i am mainly influenced by t.s eliot, walt whitman, rainer maria rilke, jaluddin rumi, miyazawa kenji, sun ra, alan watts, carl gustav jung, duke ellington, and many many more i can’t explain my work cause it is self explanatory

i said to my friend lamont when we was hangin in
as best we could
given the circumstances in which all hell as they say
broke out like frank come to save jesse i imagine
never knowing if there was an actual jailbreak between em
and who’d care
there was so much going on with those brothers i figure
throwing in a po et i kal spin like that ain’t hurtin nobody
cause you’re gettin the drift
like a couple of tek tonik plates doin some asexualized
bump and grind

i said lamont don’t you feel the seismic activity?
and lookin around he sez yeah come to think of it
so we walk around in the backyard there
and he’s been blowin that horn for god knows how long
and i’m tranced out anyway but we’re sort of trippin
around in circles with a stomp and a tip toe and a scrap
of the chuck here n there
and finally lamont says dude i’m gettin me some pro tek shun

...i gotta say the way he’d break down any word into some
nailgun syllable thing for emphasis and like he’s tryin on clothes
or something goin on and on till he hears it right just like
that blasted horn…
oh,
he’ll give you a delivery that’ll stop what trance you’ve got
and weave you up another one real quick. a tailor of sorts i’d say
or sporty,
real sporty…no complaint really but noticeable and blunt
real blunt, sort of in your face and head all the time playin
your actual freakin brain like that damn horn!
anyways
so, i’m thinkin about this poetikal thing and still checkin
out the backyard lookin at it like it just might heave and
next thing i know we’ve got a costume change

i said dude how come you can’t get your sorry…real sorry
self up and atem like that when we’ve got to roll?!

and lamont just um-hmming under that motorcyle helmet
godforsaken as it is and still trompin around in them converse
that by the way, don’t never, i mean never gather up no dust
even if we’re stompin our way through the mojave
i mean this dude’s shoes are clean

go figure
i mean, i’m just saying…
and someone’s mama was hollerin
i remember that and here comes lonnie and lil super j
flyin through the yard and lil super j’s got on his cape too
so lamont just heaves that horn and blows ta ta TA
and them kids knock him down gigglin like a litter
of Christmas pups

i said lord we’ve done let your earthquake go
ain’t nothing we’re goin do with any ad vance warning
cept play and lamont he sez look here! all grown now
and shit and goes chasin after them kids that’s stompin
on his taylors like kids do when somebody’s got new shoes

i love that dude.

____

Poetry: Marie Monroe