Archive for the ‘Apartment Items’ Category

Apartment Items Concluded

May 12, 2010

For those of you who’ve paid attention to this blog, I’ve been posting a series of poems called “Apartment Items.” The series consisted of 50 poems and an adjoining essay about the series. I’m proud to say that tonight I posted the final poem in the series, titled Daily Poetry Calendar.

The poems truly exist as a series, feeding off of one another in order to duplicate an essence of my former living space, so individually they don’t say much. Now that they’re all together on my blog, I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoyed writing them.

And don’t forget to check out the essay. It’s an informative piece that gives some greater insight to the concept behind the poems.

Daily Poetry Calendar: Apartment Items

May 12, 2010

Pull a page off and there’s another poem, quote, of factoid.

What more could an aspiring writer ask for?

I like my calendar.

White Board Calendar: Apartment Items

May 10, 2010

It’s currently a month behind.

But really, when it’s kept up on

it’s very handy.

We can write the days that bills are due.

We can write different obligations on it.

Yeah, it’s just really handy.

My Brown Bag: Apartment Items

May 10, 2010

is scary.

Only because it has old financial information in it.

And I don’t know what exactly those things are.

Could be anything, frankly.

Even at the thought that there’s an old

winning lottery ticket hiding beneath the thicket of forms does not entice me

to open that bag.

Could be anything.

My brown bag is scary.

My Black Bag: Apartment Items

April 25, 2010

If I told you its color, it’s possible I lied. As sure as I tote it around

I look into it, at times deep, and see white.

Today it’s at the surface.

It’s comforting that this white (this white), oh surely, isn’t always so deep.

When I carry it, if it spoke to someone, I want them to like my black bag

as much as I do. How could they, at first impression, enjoy this creature

of constant levels when the surface is so obscenely pitch? Flat? Unhumoring!

Clearly. I wish all upon my black bag. It’s fresh. And though I nor my black bag

will ever admit. It’s possible a secret lay inside.

Today it’s at the surface.

Bathroom Clock: Apartment Items

April 25, 2010

Is in the bathroom. Very decorative.

There was a particular motif that was prevalent

in the bathroom but

that clock went in there anyway.

In the middle it said ‘the hours of the day’

in French, but everything else in the bathroom

was more of a tropical theme: bamboo design

on the shower curtain, parrot soap dispenser.

Then the battery died.

And the only hour of the day known

was 12:00.

Depending on whether the sun was out or not

did we decide whether it was noon or midnight.

But it’s pretty. Like some painting of a clock

to look at after a refreshing shower.

Toilet: Apartment Items

April 22, 2010

A toilet is a toilet is a toilet.

A parody is a parody is sometimes not a parody.

A Wristwatch: Apartment Items

April 22, 2010

Who wouldn’t like him? He recites a poem whenever I listen, just like that!

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Just like that!

Pen: Apartment Items

March 21, 2010

It is used. (A happy writer sitting.)

Use it to look into tomorrow and subsequently

you won’t find it.

Use it to find the past and you won’t find it either, but only

because the past has always had the most brilliant tactics at hiding. Heh!

Don’t use it, oh, and it will always be there. You won’t even have

to look for it.

We listen in the night to its screams, and sleep…sleep…sleep.

Chair: Apartment Items

March 20, 2010

The green, cushy rocking chair is awesome.

My wife argues that it’s actually gold, but the lighting. It

was a heck of a find at the Salvation Army in

downtown Minneapolis. Amid the sea of formerly owned stuff,

I saw the potential of my own things living there

because their usefulness had dried up some time ago

if it ever existed at all. Where did it all come from?

The knick-knacks, the decorations, the useful placed

to look like it does more than it should. Amazing…

But when you live in it

you know that these things only do so much.

And there you have it and so do we.

Thank you.