Tag Archives: two-fer

Two-fer today!


Sometimes I write things down in my little fat notebook and promptly forget them, because gawd-damn they are depressing. I thought I’d share two of them today!

Untitled #1
Or, whoa did I watch Metropolis (1927 film) that day?

The grime smothers the city
From thousands of pounding feet
And spinning wheels daily
The lives of the workers are bleak
Forever in motion, without rest
No hope of something greater.
The cold bites their fingers
Numb to everything but the
Endless expanse of grey sky, black dirt.
Is there anything more than this,
The vast suffering of faceless drones?

© Bridget Noonan, 2010, 2012.

Untitled #2
Or, apparently I was not happy with humanity

just another pointless lament
listless animalistic stereotype
bored with endless ennui
cloudy of mind, purposeless
a wandering soul searching for
the next thing to live for
and the next and the next
a quest for the newest stimulation
ultimately in vain, because
it too shall becomes tiresome
and the cycle shall repeat and repeat
the quest the resolution and again
why the unsatisfactory quest
just to be doomed to seek, find and lose?

© Bridget Noonan, 2010, 2012.

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Three Word Wednesday Two-Fer


I thought I might mess around with that Fibonacci thing I did before. Since I spaced on last week‘s Three Word Wednesday, I figured, why not do both this week? Last week was erratic, luminous, and omen, and this week is alter, fond and tranquil.

Also, these might be a bit weird; I have Baba O’Riley by the Who stuck in my head, and I’m not sure if that’s related to the weird. It’s a good song, don’t get me wrong, but I’m usually more for Led Zeppelin than the Who.

Bottom of the Ocean

watch
out
for the
luminous
bait of the fearsome
anglerfish-  soothing light luring
its erratic  prey closer to the jaws of their doom.
it’s tough living at the bottom
of the ocean; see
omen of
rising
sea
heights.

© Bridget Noonan, 2o11.

Shakespeare Said It Best

Love allows no impediment to it,
Alters not with the changing winds. Instead,
It flows like rain from the heavens, collects
In our hearts, overflows in everything
We do.  Love is the bright sun in the sky,
Warming the seeds of fondness in this earth.
Turbulent seas calm in the face of love,
Stifling afternoons fade to tranquil nights.

© Bridget Noonan, 2011.

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Well, this was uplifting.


It’s a poetry two-fer! Or three-fer, if you count the 3WW I posted not long ago.

It’s not a happy two-fer; if I don’t let it out this way, it’ll still come rushing out, but it’ll be messier than words on a page.

Futility

I am running in place
at least a rat in his wheel
can stop for a drink and
return to his wheel at will-

instead I run on a treadmill
for days and weeks and years
I am so tired of running
in place on this rubber belt.

I am so tired and yet
my dreams elude me,
even awake, and I’m back to
running and running and

never getting ahead,
gaining neither centimetre
nor cent to save and use
to escape this fucking wheel.

© Bridget Noonan, 2011.

But wait! There’s more!

Limerick

Wear the badge of shame upon your chest;
Smile and say the customer knows best.
But underneath the mask,
You’re not up to the task:
Soon you’ll doff or burn that ugly vest.

© Bridget Noonan, 2011.

I guess this is to prove to myself that I have something. I have some small ability, and I’m making something that’s real with it.
Now time for sleep.

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Silly Poet, Rhyme Ain’t For Kids!


I wrote this little snippet on versebender‘s blog. The actual poem, The Simple Rhymer, is excellent.

Thank you for this poem
I’m sure I don’t know why
Writing in some rhythm
It always makes me cry.

Sure I need to practice
My skills with meter more.
Though for this poetess,
Rhyme’s easy to ignore.

© Bridget Noonan, 2011.

I tweaked it a bit to make it flow better.

I don’t know if I really have a style, so much. I don’t often use any pattern on purpose, or rhyme things. So what makes a poem? That’s for you to decide. But I’d like it if you thought this was all right.

I Don’t Want You

This experimental phase is
Flattering, really; but you knew
From the start I don’t need you that way.
I don’t want to fall in love with you.

Because when the experiment ends,
You’ll still want to be friends
And I’ll hate every man that you date,
(Or fellate).  You say it’s not a test,
But I know what’s best — for me.

And it’s not that I don’t want you;
Never doubt your wicked charm.
I just can’t allow myself to dream
That your kisses won’t cause me harm.

Stop your lovely words and deeds,
Because I refuse to water the seeds
Of affection for you in my heart.
We both know that this can’t happen,
So stop teasing this poor lesbian.

© Bridget Noonan, 2011.

I like to pretend that I have women banging on my door begging to sleep with me, or date me. Haha! I had a lot of fun writing this, actually. If you can’t look back on life and laugh at it, what’s the point? When I start dating some lucky gal, this will be even better. If I’d written about the same subject in some formless free-verse thing, it’d probably have turned out all dark and depressing and ‘woe is me, I’m sooo aloooooooooone’, and who needs that? I’ll leave the mooning over unavailable (or fictional) women to Lord Byron.

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The maiden voyage of my blog


Hello world. I’m Bee, and welcome to my shiny new blog. My intent is to post at least once a week a new or old poem that I’ve been working on. I like constructive criticism, but if the only thing you have to say is liked it or didn’t like it, that’s all right by me.

Today’s post is actually a two-fer. How cool is that?

We Get Along Like a House on Fire

His smile was like dying in a best friend’s arms
Bittersweet and warm, so comforting in its truth,
Teeth glinting through the haze. And how can I say
What is right or wrong when the stars hang low
And everything is illuminated in red and blue,
Flashing on the sidewalks and bricks while my home
Burns to the foundations, drowned in uniforms and water.
At least you’re alive at least you’re safe, but
How can I be safe with no place to go home to?
I must begin again, molt and shake off these ashes.
I must build again after the waters recede, and find
A new place to belong. Insincere apologies and pity are
Worse than worthless – this much I know is wrong
In this limbo I sit in, neither lawn nor street,
Surrounded by faceless gawkers and uniforms and
I have never felt so alone with their eyes all on me.
Under the endless cloud of smoke belching out of my wreckage
His smile seemed independent from his soot-stained body
As he held his reflective jacket on my shoulders with
Whispered reassurance that this too shall pass,
Among all else, this loss will diminish until the day comes
When a lit match no longer conjures dreams of the inferno.
And how can I say he is wrong when I hardly know my
Hands from my elbows, my knees from my ears, and
My lungs are still screaming that there isn’t any air left?

© Bridget Noonan, 2011.

Sunset Over Oshawa Creek

The trees are black against a pastel sky,
Twigs and branches feathered outward.
The water is fire, and the sky is water,
And I feel I’m floating on the breeze.

Their voices call me but I wait here
Floating gently with the water of fire
The sky of water and the solid souls of trees.

Don’t wake me, don’t tear me from
This peaceful vista, such pleasant escape.
If I had some skill with brush and colour
I’d capture this world and bring it with me.

At last I turn, extinguish my cigarette
And nod goodnight to the sun
Splashing colours over this town’s face.

© Bridget Noonan, 2011.

And there we have it. As I said on my Facebook, I’m not entirely happy with Sunset, but I’ll fix it up as I go. I’m going to repeat what I posted there:
“This obviously doesn’t come close to the feeling I wanted to capture: standing in awe of the sharp orange-red-gold light rippling on the creek while the sky is fading to indigo and the trees are so clearly defined without their leaves, and then someone texts me but I’m soaking up nature’s beauty so fuck that they can wait however many minutes while I watch something amazing unfold right in front of me.”

Let me know where you think I can improve. Any author or poem recommendations would also be lovely. Thanks folks.

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