poMotion poetry

Where I’ve gone, Where I’ve been.

with 5 comments

For Connie

The golden car shines in the driveway
Arnold wants me to come with
The space ship is calling

Instead I sit inside and think, and contemplate, and wonder

my eyes bloodshot from all the shit I keep rubbing in them
Bob Dylan keeps telling me:
“There’s no black and white, left and right to me anymore; there’s only up and down and down is very close to the ground.”

so I lay on the floor
I lay there so long I forget all about Mr. Friend outside
He says the numbers on his car are magic
but then I remember my Tarot cards and get lost in the design of a man hanging upside down
the phases of the moon
the distance between retrograde and upgrade
the time I thought about nothing for so long that I actually thought I was nothing, only to be pulled back to the floor
the wood planks cold and dirty
I need to sweep
I need to sleep
I need sheep
I can lead to the slaughter

Sensory D

Oh Arnold Friend
why must you always take the pretty ones?

by Brian Feist

Inspired by the short story “Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?” by Joyce Carol Oates


Written by lickmypoetry

April 28, 2010 at 12:35 pm

Posted in poem, poetry

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5 Responses

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  1. This is your best poem yet, Brian!


    April 28, 2010 at 12:38 pm

  2. I agree. Your poetry makes me feel a bit dull though. I don’t always get what I think you want me to get. I do, however, always ‘get something’ from your poems–usually a feeling of awe and wonder. Thanks.


    April 28, 2010 at 4:29 pm

  3. Thanks, in good times I like to think of my poetry as zen, and in bad times like a belch. Meaning there isn’t usually anything to ‘get’. Though this poem was inspired by Oates’ short story, so I included a link.



    April 29, 2010 at 12:28 pm

    • Thanks.


      April 29, 2010 at 11:01 pm

    • Why can’t a poem be more like a belch than zen in good times?


      April 30, 2010 at 7:06 am

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