SAY A PRAYER FOR GRANDMA

"Say a prayer for grandma,"
my mother told me. "Pray."
I don't have perfect grammar
but I did so in my way.

I said, "It's me, God. Hear me?
My mom says you are there
and sometimes do kids favors
if they ask nice in a prayer.

"Now can you keep a secret?
Between just you and I,
there are things I want more
than for grandma not to die,

"a little list that I prepared
but Santa Claus ignored.
So how about it? Won't you help?
I'm counting on you, Lord!"
 

I do think, Bob, all things considered (for better or verse), that you have gotten worse as you go along, not a huge improvement, but a perceptible one.

I would suggest using a pen name. Like Fernando Pessoa, you can have a multitude. But we know who you are and where you live.

Where is John W? I'm thinking he is in Agony.

Thirty Below


"It's cold", you say,
"Ice eternal."
"Let me tell ya:

Ain't a good day
for external
genitalia."

-o-

FEELING SORRY FOR GOD

In heaven I believe that God
 and all the angels weep
when they look down on earth to find
 the good men fast asleep

and all the evil men awake,
 well rested, and alert.
Since God's so fond of peace and love,
 you know that's got to hurt.
 

For Love (inspired by Marion's poem by the same title)

Love, I say, is like a flame,
  but when hate's water splashes,
love keeps burning just the same
  and does not turn to ashes.

Love, I say, is like a knife,
  but there's no need to hone it.
It will last throughout your life,
  if that's how long you own it.

Love, I say, is like a stone,
  but softer than a feather.
It's hard to lift love all alone
  but not that hard hard together.
 
 

Clearly -- Bob's just competing against himself now, despite valiant efforts and new signs of deterioration on the part of Marion (really bad love song there, Marion) Janice (that King & Queen thing is certainly bad), RLC & Winaka, etc. ,and I still think "Suicide Sounds" is pretty awful, but --

Between "Say a Prayer for Grandma" and "Feeling Sorry for God" -- it's real close. Which to send in? They're both so truly horrible, I can't say. "Grandma" is more offensive -- but that's not the only consideration. "Feelilng Sorry for God" might be a bit subtle, but I love it too.

Checking out Bob's link of previous winners -- Tina Bivens' "Sonnets to Mayo" series -- did she get to send in a whole bunch of sonnets by casting them as part of a series? Anyway, they're kind of "fractured" sonnets, in a way, and definitely good (as well as bad).

Thanks, Wendy. I was leaning toward submitting "Angel Song," but "Grandma" is in contention. Probably not this one, though, but I can't stop:


THE ANSWER

I went down to the valley
and I viewed the mountainside
as I floated in the river
with my two eyes open wide.

All at once, it thundered
on the dust the sun had dried.
I wondered, truly wondered,
if I'd find a place to hide,

and then I had my answer
as a bolt of lightning fried
the raft on which I floated
for, alas, I drowned and died.
 
 

suggestions for Marion
 

Marion,

Wouldn't this be worse if your last line were

For love I'd gladly give my wife.

ps. One typo is bad, but three would be so much worse.

For Love

Love's what sets your heart on fire,
It's song is like a ghostly choir.
But though Love's ways are dark and dire,
Love's all that human hearts desire.

Love cuts you like a kitchen knife,
With endless sorrow Love is rife,
But though it's full of pain and strife,
For love I'd glady give my life.[/quote]

Really too good, Bob--a childlike version of the Songs of Experience! Are you sure this wasn't written by Jon Stewart when he was six? Only an innocent in the first flush of Experience could feel sorry for God.

Wendy,

If it weren't for "oscillating consciousness," this could be a winner.

You could even have a second movement that occurs after the suicide. Called "Epilogue," something like

And so I partied on. And on. And on.
Till I was the last one breathing.
But not for long. And yet I party on...
in the cemetery
in a box
with the worms.


"Suicide Sounds"

Trapped, in this dim orb of oscillating consciousness,
trying to lift the stillborn shards of our one-time love--
Party on.

Party on, they said --
You can hear,
through the dull drift of anemic orifice
Still.
Party on.

No -- no more.
No more of the drill,
the shrill
soft heart of paralysis.
No!!!!

But it will
end.[/quote]