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- Path: sparky!uunet!uiunix!donz
- From: donz@uiunix.ui.org (Don Zirilli)
- Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
- Subject: Re: Poetry Request
- Message-ID: <387@uiunix.ui.org>
- Date: 21 Dec 92 18:21:31 GMT
- Organization: UNIX International, Parsippany, NJ 07054
- Lines: 70
-
-
- I will also mail this poem to Kimberly. C&C Appreciated..
-
-
- Keywords: NEED!!
-
- Hey all you poets out there I am considering entering a pagent, but instead of
- doing a lame talent that everyone does I intend to read a poet. I need a very
- deep poem about believing in yourself and the potential of belief, or about the
- environment and how we are killing it. This poem needs to be about 2 minutes in
- length when read expressively.....
-
- Please help me out. If you desire to, please send your submission to
-
- kellis@nimitz.mcs.kent.edu
-
- thank you....
-
- kimberly
-
-
-
- She Coughs Politely, Bobs Her Head, And Speaks
-
-
- Out in some desert a cactus died
- as an indirect result of man's inhumanity to man.
- I felt its distant prickles and the green need
- of its awkward Christ arms and neckless head.
- I wanted to lick the sharpness like salt on a pretzel.
-
- The hunger I felt was Somalian,
- The fear I felt was Bosnian,
- I put my beliefs in,
- I put my tired eyes out,
- I did the Hokey Pokey
- and I shook them all about.
- I wept while dancing
- for a cactus I've never seen
-
- Someone should declare me obscene
- and revoke my right to beauty titles
- if only because sometimes I can't see
- beauty in deserts. Sometimes I can't express
- the potential of belief in two minutes or less
- because I'm stuttering on the question
- What do I BELIEVE in?
- It takes a while for me to grab my elbows
- AND feel the bumps and strands there
- AND tighten my little ceramic fingers
- AND pout defiantly
- AND convert my eyes from inward to outward
- AND force myself onto things--
- a list of activities that are sometimes required
- to create an atmosphere for belief.
-
- Can any woman on stage here,
- categorized by the color of her hair,
- offer something better than this home-made cobweb grid
- to support the fragile need of judges
- to believe? to judge? Probably not.
- Think of my gift as a silk scarf
- and smell the flowers of Spring strangling you
- with the force of a dry kiss.
-
-
- Don Zirilli
- 12-21-92
- --
- Chucklehead awaits the return of his .sig
-