one year of poetry: 093 - April 2 2024

Wednesday 3 April 2024

093 - April 2 2024 - Wild Bill 2

one last sip from this long neck bottle, boys
before you escort me down to the clink.
I’ll go with no trouble, and make no noise,
if you’ll just hold up while I drain my drink.

yeah I shot him, yeah I gave him those holes
that leaked his life. I made sure he was done.
so send me down to roast on Satan’s coals,
I’d shoot him again—with Lucifer’s gun.

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Update: December 31, 2018

Ok, I got all those poems typed in. I'm undoing the canvas bag and letting all my pigeons flap out every fucking way starting tomorrow. January 1, 2019.

Update: December 20, 2018

I decided to dig out the green book and type in the rest of the 2017 poems. This is because, not feeling like such a sad-sack anymore, I am going to try again in 2019 to write 365 poems. Just saying. I think I can do it this time since I'm not living in a woodshed with no heat and simultaneously suffering from uncontrolled diabetes while also terminally depressed.

The 2017 poems were really garbage, but I'm leaving them on here all the same. There is only one poem I've been thinking is too shit to leave up, but I won't say which it is. I'm just ashamed that I wrote it.

Update: February 13, 2018

As you probably surmised, I gave up on my second attempt to write a poem a day for a year. There are some thirty or forty more in a green spiral notebook at my apartment, which I never bothered to type. If you are curious, and I'm no longer around, just look for that notebook.

The truth is that I was too despondent, and also I felt like I wasn't even writing, in any true sense, poetry. I was just going on about how I was dying, not even bothering most days to fold my meaning into some sort of metaphorical burrito. It was essentially a big fry-up of self pity, one day after the next, chopped up with lots of return keys to make it look poetic.

To me, this sort of writing doesn't constitute poetry; at least not as I should like to make it. I did notice that somebody left a comment on my last poem. Google deleted it, but I still have it in my e-mail. It was posted on the 9th of January, but I didn't check it until today. Because of all the return keying in it, I thought it was a poem, responding to my poem. I held out hope that I had reached somebody out there, that someplace someone felt my feelings, that my words had made a difference.

...but of course, when I translated it, I found it was an ad for bug exterminators. Somehow it is fitting. I am pretty ill right now. I haven't felt like writing... but I will pass on this offer for pest control, in case you are in the Middle-East and are having problems with plagues, Biblical or otherwise.

عالم التميز has left a new comment on your post "#216: poof.":

شركة قمة الدقة
شركة كشف تسربات المياه بالدمام
شركة كشف تسربات المياه بالاحساء
شركة نقل اثاث بالدمام
شركة مكافحة حشرات بالدمام
شركة مكافحة حشرات بالجبيل
شركة تسليك مجارى بالدمام
شركة تسليك مجارى بالجبيل
شركة تنظيف منازل بالدمام
شركة تنظيف منازل بالجبيل
شركة المثالية للتنظيف
شركة رش مبيدات بالدمام
شركة رش مبيدات بالخبر
شركة تنظيف منازل بالخبر
شركة تسليك مجارى بالخبر
شركة نقل اثاث بالخبر
شركة مكافحة حشرات بالخبر
شركة كشف تسربات المياه بالخبر

Posted by عالم التميز to one year of poetry at 9 January 2018 at 07:59

Posted by عالم التميز to one year of poetry at 9 January 2018 at 08:01

Update: Jan 3, 2017

I'm back at it again this year, with an attempt at another year of poetry. We'll see how it goes.

Update: Jan 3rd, 2014.

Now that this project has been (successfully) completed, and because I am still in the mood to write poems, I have started another blog: paidbytheword.wordpress.com and I am going to publish things there at a probably less furious pace.

December 31, 2012.

For reasons that I cannot exactly tell you, I have decided that for the entirety of the year 2013 I will write a new poem every day and publish it on this blog. Often, I write these poems on the computer but, when I am away from modern technology, I write the poems on paper and type them in later.

To be honest, some poems need more than a day of thought to write, and some poems ought never to be published, regardless of how much work has gone into them. Because I have to produce something every 24 hours, however, these 365 works are bound to be a bit of a grab bag.

Nevertheless, I hope you like what you read here and I welcome feedback of whatever nature it pleases you to offer. Obviously, I would prefer positive and constructive comments, however, if you can do no better than to attempt to insult and belittle me, I shall be happy to provide you my own vitriol in return.