week of May 14 - 20, 2007
BM Bradley and Karen Stram
BECOME A POET OF THE WEEK
click. here.for. submission .guidelines
Bio (auto)BM Bradley is now, writing, shooting and busily building bridges to his past
while eating as many greasy chili cheese burgers as possible. This all
happens in and around Studio City California on a daily basis.
The following work is Copyright © 2007, and owned by BM Bradley and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.
she squeezed her lips together with just the tip
of her tongue sticking out of one corner
that's what mine looks like,
sometimes it sticks out a little more
but mostly it's in there
hers is a big bump because she's 'italian'
we had to stop dating because we're both like 19,
I mean we're madly in love and everything
but we wanna grow up a little.
you shoulda seen the problems it caused
when we held hands in public.
mostly the old ladies got upset.
maybe they had daughters
and we're worried about it.
so I dated this guy for 4 months,
well we were together for 2 months
and seeing each other for 2 months
but we lived together for 1 month.
he never got a job.
he worked at the movies when we met.
he said he couldn't get another job
because he had a criminal record.
we never had sex:
he got a disease before we met
and never went to the doctor.
I told him I would take him,
but he always said
he would take care of it.
he really knew how to treat a girl.
he was the best boyfriend
I ever had. when he left he stole my car.
I had to file a police report
I'm a former lawyer turned writer. I live in the LA area. I've always been a junk book junkie. I never read poetry. Then, about ten years ago all of the verbiage I'd consumed over the past 40 years began to spill out first in the form of limericks, then poetry and finally prose. Poetry has enriched my life immeasurably. It's become my therapyst, my lover, my best friend. I wrote the following while I was living with my brother. My sister-in-law didn't want me around. This one's for her:
The following work is Copyright © 2007, and owned by Karen Stram and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.
The tongue of the asp
The chisel-tongued asp
Chipped away at her quarry
No one, whether limestone or granite,
Marble or class
Could have withstood the barrage year after year
Came a time
A glance of her serpentine eye
Set the poor thing to tremble
Dust would fall from
Cracks in its fascia
Left by the last onslaught
And its diminishment begins anew
First there's the squint
Then the frown
The cavernous mouth
Opens just sooo
The tongue whips and verbiage spews
Its acid lands splat
On the old stone face
Another knick in the chin
From the serpent's bladed mouth
A careful observer might perceive
Shock on the face of the asp
As vitriol erupts form her core
At the virulence of her venom
"Oh, did I do that?" she asks
In amazed satisfaction
Seeing the enemy's face melted and marked
Crumpled and aged
By day to day