New Year's Poetry

[Amanita Mary]

oh thank god its over

I went to a pretty amazing reading tonight - a gathering of ecclectic poets from around town - and there was an interesting assortment of new year's poetry.
So many different takes on what a new year means to them - so feel free to share - or bitch about whatever you want that's new year's related. mine was pretty horrible, here's my poem - that i did end up reading

oh thank god its over


Had a good piece of toast when I stumbled out of my kitchen – got the jelly on my pants and hands… it’s a mixture today, of red plum and a deep purple wild berry jam
– oh so sweet -
I kicked off the first day of this year, with spiked german choc. Coffee *figured id hold off the rest of the wine for tonight* The last of the calamari is floating happily en mi estomago / with it’s compatriots of toast and bailey’s. ^ a smug lick of the lips

A fresh bowl of the most luscious mary jane wonder

You auspicious sweetheart you – of all adquirido este tarde(acquired this afternoon), you forked over only 8 bucks for one of those big bottles of merlot – somehow doing far more than just inching into the new year while watching marathons on the tele.

A party

With food

Bread that was given a dedicated 14 hours - the smell hugging my nostrils

Brie ~ oh my leg does shake for something like cheese~ / //// /// // //////// // /// ////
I really loved the brie

I came in when its appearance had been hacked at > < but fuck - I don’t need aesthetics when im drunk ____ I need _____ the basics__________ sour liquid wrapped in glass, swishing from lip to mouth to tummy

No ---------------------------------------------I don’t really want to play cards with you –
But ill sacrifice a *sure* because I know you’re a needy bastard

And cards just so happen to be easier than satisfying your relentless passion

You sad blue-eyed thing you – like a puppy – or deprived child

You wouldn’t let me go until 7 am

This wont hold out for long - a good strong lover (yes) but I don’t have
The dedication / or any patience left really. See – I was with this fucker…

And I’ll just leave it at that – so drained am I from seeing him shoot smack
And talk it talk it talk it all the time for no reason

~ just to whine ~

ill drink mine – the coffee’s gotten cold and the clock struck 4:20
I believe it’s time
For my glass of wine
Oh oh oh oh – Tom Waits barks huskily out of my speakers
Wrenches my heart with sorrows of the coldest grounds

The piano’s on fire
And Time Square is a dream

I didn’t watch the ball drop

I was busier having a cigarette with my buddies who claimed for the nnnnnnnth
Time that the one between their lips was the last

WH ~ell ---- I somehow doubt that you see – because they were enjoying it too much you see, and if you end on a good note it’s harder to see why not to do it again.

*too bad * * * there isn’t any crown left
because I cant drink all this soda without it

I think I’ll accept the invite and drum tonight
Im not really much one for reading this shit out loud
And I still don’t even know if ill bring any
For no one – can read my poetry like me
And it’s supposed to sound a certain way you see
And I know that I would just end up having
To read it you see
sigh

 

[(Wordy)]

That's wild! :D

Would've loved to hear you read it. How did it go down? Receptive crowd?

 

[Amanita Mary]

beyond receptive... lots of extremely close friends that i only see in coffee shops and drum jams - sounds typical - but these people blow me away. they very much enjoyed what i read... but still - i feel that my poems are meant for the eyes