New poetry by yours truly. . .
feedback is welcome if you feel so moved.
The Connecticut Poem
by JR
I already came.
There's nothing to do.
Apparently there is not enough of me
to answer questions I create.
If that's the case, I take the blame.
You wear unmatched socks by choice.
I choose (with care)
how I decide to wear my name.
I'd...
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feedback is welcome if you feel so moved.
The Connecticut Poem
by JR
I already came.
There's nothing to do.
Apparently there is not enough of me
to answer questions I create.
If that's the case, I take the blame.
You wear unmatched socks by choice.
I choose (with care)
how I decide to wear my name.
I'd...
Read More
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
mora:
sniff. i'm leaving tomorrow. call me if you're painful bored. 
(pst. happy b-day too). you boys rocked the casbah.
[Edited on Jun 09, 2003]
(pst. happy b-day too). you boys rocked the casbah.[Edited on Jun 09, 2003]
jr:
thanks! i probably will at some point. can you send me the photos and video you took? i have wicked cute doubles of other photos to show you and have you give to josh too. ugh, now to clean the apartment...
Boo! 
Yo, what's up with my pic dissapearing?
MY BAD POETRY #5
15 poems in a zine by "JR"
is at last published!
FREE COPIES to the first 5 people that post or Email me an address!
1, 2, 3, GO!
15 poems in a zine by "JR"
is at last published!
FREE COPIES to the first 5 people that post or Email me an address!
1, 2, 3, GO!
The Rhinoceros Poem
by JR
1993, enter a Russian Girl
obsessed with a rhinoceros
at the Franklin Park Zoo.
Like clockwork after lessons,
she plunked her pink pug nose
against the dirty glass,
watching the bursts of air
from his nostrils
in complete awe.
The smudges
of her fingerprints
piled up,
one day to the next,
gray glass gone white.
The broom man hosed
giant...
Read More
by JR
1993, enter a Russian Girl
obsessed with a rhinoceros
at the Franklin Park Zoo.
Like clockwork after lessons,
she plunked her pink pug nose
against the dirty glass,
watching the bursts of air
from his nostrils
in complete awe.
The smudges
of her fingerprints
piled up,
one day to the next,
gray glass gone white.
The broom man hosed
giant...
Read More
IMPORTANT: THIS IS NOT THE WHOLE ESSAY. THE AUTHOR IS AWARE THAT IN REALITY WOMEN ARE THE 'FAMILY' BREAD WINNERS THE MAJORITY OF THE TIME AND THAT WOMEN DO THE VAST MAJORITY OF ALL WORK IN THIS WORLD. HOWEVER, THIS PORTION SPEAKS SPECIFICALLY TO GLOBALIZATION AS IT RELATES TO THE MALE GENDER.
Gender and Globalization Essay (some of the intro)
by JR
SECTION 1: Globalization...
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Gender and Globalization Essay (some of the intro)
by JR
SECTION 1: Globalization...
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The Giraffe Poem
by JR
Write like a child.
Think like an outpatient.
Fuck like a bull.
Cheap like a metaphor,
bitter red wine
might stain something
in a white girl's poem.
Maybe many lame scars
like the rungs of a ladder
will explain it.
She has built
a stairway to sympathy -
mad as a rabid giraffe,
cheap as a whore.
So damn bored,...
Read More
by JR
Write like a child.
Think like an outpatient.
Fuck like a bull.
Cheap like a metaphor,
bitter red wine
might stain something
in a white girl's poem.
Maybe many lame scars
like the rungs of a ladder
will explain it.
She has built
a stairway to sympathy -
mad as a rabid giraffe,
cheap as a whore.
So damn bored,...
Read More
mora:
so when are you going to write something profound about me, huh?
by the by. did you beat the Evil Team?
by the by. did you beat the Evil Team?
The Apple Poem
by JR
The crunch of an apple in the middle of the night,
not unlike the static on the line
when someone tells you,
"Im sorry," when they are not sorry,
or, "I have company,"
when their new lover looks at them,
raising an eyebrow, "Who is that on the telephone?",
taking a hard bite out of an apple, you swear,
belongs...
Read More
by JR
The crunch of an apple in the middle of the night,
not unlike the static on the line
when someone tells you,
"Im sorry," when they are not sorry,
or, "I have company,"
when their new lover looks at them,
raising an eyebrow, "Who is that on the telephone?",
taking a hard bite out of an apple, you swear,
belongs...
Read More
frankie18:
ive read some of your past poems too. i must say that they are quite pleasing. very truthful.
mora:
yeah, i hate that icon too. but just can't help it.
yeah, i hate that icon too. but just can't help it.
Listening (draft #3)
by JR
At last, I rose from my bed
to follow a craving for donuts and hot cider.
Outside the place where I get my breakfast,
a sleepless night behind me,
5AM laid a glaze to the pavement
and my temples.
A young man sits across from me,
a hood pulled about his face like a cowl.
I reach across the table...
Read More
by JR
At last, I rose from my bed
to follow a craving for donuts and hot cider.
Outside the place where I get my breakfast,
a sleepless night behind me,
5AM laid a glaze to the pavement
and my temples.
A young man sits across from me,
a hood pulled about his face like a cowl.
I reach across the table...
Read More
Listening (rough draft)
by JR
I tried to retire tonight,
having said goodbye to her.
It proved a coughing crawl
to a small death.
I rose from my bed.
There is the option of
donuts and hot cider.
At the place where I get
my breakfast, a sleepless night
behind, 5AM has laid a glaze
to the pavement and my temples.
A young man is...
Read More
by JR
I tried to retire tonight,
having said goodbye to her.
It proved a coughing crawl
to a small death.
I rose from my bed.
There is the option of
donuts and hot cider.
At the place where I get
my breakfast, a sleepless night
behind, 5AM has laid a glaze
to the pavement and my temples.
A young man is...
Read More