Scorpio Moon


Here it comes

Here it comes

It’s just your

nineteenth

nervous

breakdown

“Writing is … what I do to justify the air I breathe,” Nikki Giovanni once wrote in Contemporary Authors. “I have been considered a writer who writes from rage and it confuses me. What else do writers write from? A poem has to say something. It has to make some sort of sense; be lyrical; to the point; and still able to be read by whatever reader is kind enough to pick up the book.”

without any assistance or guidance from you
i have loved you assiduously for 8 months 2 wks & a day
i have been stood up four times
i’ve left 7 packages on yr doorstep
forty poems 2 plants & 3 handmade notecards i left
town so i cd send to you have been no help to me
on my job
you call at 3:00 in the mornin on weekdays
so i cd drive 27 1/2 miles cross the bay before i go to work
charmin charmin
but you are of no assistance
i want you to know
this waz an experiment
to see how selifsh i cd be
if i wd really carry on to snare a possible lover
if i waz capable of debasin my self for the love of another
if i cd stand not being wanted
when i wanted to be wanted
& i cannot
so
with no further assistance & no guidance from you
i am endin this affair

this note is attached to a plant
i’ve been waterin since the day i met you
you may water it
yr damn self

–Ntozake Shange

Artificial Verse

MIT has developed a machine that writes poetry based on keywords you provide.


I watch her frown. I cry hello.

The otak is tiny, soft and deep,
But she has promises to keep,

She rises from her bitter bed,
With thoughts of sadness in her head,
She idolises being dead.
Facing the day with never ending dread.


Woah, dude.

As a disclaimer the site alludes to its plagiarized unity. Wait a minute that sounds too familiar, I thought. Sure enough, the toads divulged in the mellow wood and I, A.I. took the road less traveled by and that motherfuc*&ers has made all the difference

This never happens because Catholicism

A Hombre Alone

With thanks to the poet, Robert Frost, for the underlying structure.


The Road Not Taken 

Launch Audio in a New Window

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Published by katherinewalker

Director, Writer, Producer Nominated for two primetime Emmy's for the Apprentice Emmy award winning episode The Amazing Race Columnist, Editor, Grantwriter UVa-B.A. English/History VFS-Certificate Film Conflict Resolution Mediator Facilitator, State of Hawaii, DOJ Published poet, filmmaker, photographer, music aficionado. Canoe paddler, horse wrangler, gem dealer, fixer, The Wolf. https://about.me/katherine.walker Katherine Walker EP-Show Runner, Director www.imuafilm.wordpress.com katherineelizabethwalker LinkedIn Los Angeles, CA Schedule a time

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