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Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Eric Peters Update
Thursday, January 26, 2012
On Flight 1680 (A Poem)
1/24/12
On flight 1680 to New Orleans
Steward gives usual pitch
No one bothers listen
Evidenced by Wall Street Journal’s twitch.
Intercom expounds on oxygen loss
Of flotation and emergency escape.
Why only one “A” in flotation
Is a plague upon my brain.
No wonder so few listen,
If only out of respect
For even mild decorum requires
A dose of introspect.
Hark! What if wings fall off
Or plane goes down in flames
Who shall manage exit rows
Or calm the panicked cage?
Rivers far below are mixing
Violent cobalt and roiling brown
The land a meandering patchwork
That knits an earthen crown.
I stand to answer nature’s call
Peer o’er headrests blue
Statue heads grey, coiffed or balding
Not one of us possessing clues.
In career of singing songs
I cannot help but relate
For in the face of sheerest apathy
I die a little this way.
On flight 1680 to New Orleans
Steward gives usual pitch
No one bothers listen
Evidenced by Wall Street Journal’s twitch.
Intercom expounds on oxygen loss
Of flotation and emergency escape.
Why only one “A” in flotation
Is a plague upon my brain.
No wonder so few listen,
If only out of respect
For even mild decorum requires
A dose of introspect.
Hark! What if wings fall off
Or plane goes down in flames
Who shall manage exit rows
Or calm the panicked cage?
Rivers far below are mixing
Violent cobalt and roiling brown
The land a meandering patchwork
That knits an earthen crown.
I stand to answer nature’s call
Peer o’er headrests blue
Statue heads grey, coiffed or balding
Not one of us possessing clues.
In career of singing songs
I cannot help but relate
For in the face of sheerest apathy
I die a little this way.
Monday, January 23, 2012
When Last I Saw My Toenail (A Poem)
All subjects are topical fodder.
1/23/12
When last I saw my toenail
1/23/12
When last I saw my toenail
Curled in cuticle bliss
It never occurred to this footlord
That life should come to this.
Smiling, bald and content
At the extremity of the piggy at
home
Estranged from familial relations
An adolescent longing to roam.
Keratin
remnant pale from shearing
Where is
remorse for its pruning?
No grieving
of reclusive lunar sliver
On La Quinta
room floor brooding.
Have mercy on dorsal adornment
In jagged, refused state
Abandoned and searching the tangent
Of significance in world’s trampled
space.
How we recoil at the spectre
Of bodily rejection in view
Disgusted by original origin
Pretending this is somehow new.
Some poems should never be written,
Thoughts desiring fields of light
But to the toenail I say
The grass is never greener on the
other side.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Torn Asunder (or A Bizarre Dream)
1/12/12
An actual dream
Act One: I am learning to drive a semi with dad in my neighborhood in east Nashville. Trying to navigate a sharp corner, I roll over a portion of a homeowner's lawn, then get into an argument with him over knot-tying. "I don't know any knots," I tell him. "How am I supposed to tie a knot if you won't teach me?" I plead. He remains stubborn, refusing to help. Furious, my dad and I leave the scene (abandoning the semi, I suppose), and I make my way to Ramer's Grocery (a mom & pop store I worked at in my native Baton Rouge, LA) where I purchase a Baby Ruth candy bar for my dad.
Act Two: I am watching the removal of a maple tree that has fallen across the street landing in our backyard. At that moment, I am munching on, and enjoying, dog food. It is organic Purina. "This stuff is actually really good."
Act Three: Our neighbor directly across the street - not to be confused with the knot-tying arguer - is a single dad with an infant child. I find myself hostage in this man's house. After asking, he informs me, "Yes, you are welcome to leave," either by being torn asunder -- therefore my head "leaving" in one direction, my legs in another, my arms in another (you get the idea) -- or by avoiding and being devoured by the life-size dragon living in his backyard. When the deranged dad takes his kid for a walk in the stroller, I manage to escape and retreat into my house directly across the street. I lay low, watching him from an upstairs window, hoping my skedaddling would not soon be discovered.
Curtain closes.
I believe the culprit was a spicy Thai dinner earlier that evening.
An actual dream
Act One: I am learning to drive a semi with dad in my neighborhood in east Nashville. Trying to navigate a sharp corner, I roll over a portion of a homeowner's lawn, then get into an argument with him over knot-tying. "I don't know any knots," I tell him. "How am I supposed to tie a knot if you won't teach me?" I plead. He remains stubborn, refusing to help. Furious, my dad and I leave the scene (abandoning the semi, I suppose), and I make my way to Ramer's Grocery (a mom & pop store I worked at in my native Baton Rouge, LA) where I purchase a Baby Ruth candy bar for my dad.
Act Two: I am watching the removal of a maple tree that has fallen across the street landing in our backyard. At that moment, I am munching on, and enjoying, dog food. It is organic Purina. "This stuff is actually really good."
Act Three: Our neighbor directly across the street - not to be confused with the knot-tying arguer - is a single dad with an infant child. I find myself hostage in this man's house. After asking, he informs me, "Yes, you are welcome to leave," either by being torn asunder -- therefore my head "leaving" in one direction, my legs in another, my arms in another (you get the idea) -- or by avoiding and being devoured by the life-size dragon living in his backyard. When the deranged dad takes his kid for a walk in the stroller, I manage to escape and retreat into my house directly across the street. I lay low, watching him from an upstairs window, hoping my skedaddling would not soon be discovered.
Curtain closes.
I believe the culprit was a spicy Thai dinner earlier that evening.
Monday, January 2, 2012
TAKiNG iNVENTORY of 2011
It's a new year, and I've heard from quite a few folks for whom 2011 was rough. Shall we say "ha ha" to the old year together? I did this last year, very much enjoyed the exercise, so I thought I'd do it again. Here is my Things I'm Thankful For list of 2011.
1. Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors
2. Paints, blank canvases, #4 Filbert & #2 Bright brushes
3. Impressionism
4. Dave Trout and Under the Radar
5. The Under the Radar In Your House Tour (Fall 2011)
6. Extraordinary booking agentess, Laura Preston
7. Janie & Charlie Peters and Penny Ellis
8. House addition
9. New songs
10. A new album BiRDS OF RELOCATiON (coming soon)
11. Active, swirling creativity
12. Old pine wood siding
13. Kickstarter
14. Good Neighbor Lawncare
15. Common thieves who unwittingly awaken the very best in peopl
16. Al Andrews and Porter's Call
17. Jeff Eckert, PSYD
18. Danielle Ellis, Ellis Perrin and Monroe Carle
1. Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors
2. Paints, blank canvases, #4 Filbert & #2 Bright brushes
3. Impressionism
4. Dave Trout and Under the Radar
5. The Under the Radar In Your House Tour (Fall 2011)
6. Extraordinary booking agentess, Laura Preston
7. Janie & Charlie Peters and Penny Ellis
8. House addition
9. New songs
10. A new album BiRDS OF RELOCATiON (coming soon)
11. Active, swirling creativity
12. Old pine wood siding
13. Kickstarter
14. Good Neighbor Lawncare
15. Common thieves who unwittingly awaken the very best in peopl
16. Al Andrews and Porter's Call
17. Jeff Eckert, PSYD
18. Danielle Ellis, Ellis Perrin and Monroe Carle
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