boys and girls in the night

Posted on September 20, 2012 by jswaingrass78

Author’s Note:  I’ve been rotating new pieces with existing ones. “boys and girls in the night” was written some time ago, but I’ve retooled it a bit.  Thanks for reading.

 

boys and girls in the night

i was trying to stay straight
it was tuesday
there were girls in tank-tops
and striped tights with tears at the knees
and hands in their hair
boys were all over the girls
boys wearing black jeans and shaking cigarettes
boys were picking up girls by the waist
i was trying to get fixed
the edge of the bar was calling.

richard gere was on a television
mounted behind the bar
the waitress was wearing a jack daniels t-shirt
and folding her in hands inside a symphony
girls were trying to shy away from boys
boys were covering up girls’ hands
someone was buying me a drink
richard gere was on a television
we were all faithful gigolos
in an incorrect annex of the night
i was trying to stay straight
i was south of fixed
the edge of the bar was calling.

a newspaper was weeping ink on my fingers
its charred headlines whispering the smoke
of a tabloid bomb
it floated to the floor
boys were talking to girls
it was a tuesday in california
boys and girls were fooling around
with zippers under gift-wrapped tables
richard gere was on a television in a bar
and someone was offering me
someone else’s drink
there was talk of the probability
of getting fixed, of getting right
it was some day on some apex
of a night that was burning
in its own oil
the edge of the bar was crying.

boys and girls were letting go of the night
someone who knew someone
who almost knew me
was offering to buy me the morning
i was betting
i was taking
i was walking in my own teeth
my skin was scraped under the surface
the edge of the bar was calling
boys and girls were promising each other hours
i kept on taking.

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Boxcutter in Shanghai

Posted on September 20, 2012 by jswaingrass78

Props to my friend Scotch and her own new blog, “Boxcutter in Shanghai”. 

Here’s the link: http://www.boxcutterinshanghai.com/

If history is any indication, there’s sure to be a ruckus involved at that site.  Do yourself a favor and follow it. 

–J. Swaingrass

 

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delivery (or, there is no endpoint on the globe of our hearts)

Posted on September 20, 2012 by jswaingrass78

delivery (or, there is no endpoint on the globe of our hearts)

I.

when the fog changed its narrative, the dolphins breached.  foam curled
like commas from their beaks and midday strings of
sunlight molded into the pottery of evening.

II.

you asked for thunder but there was
not yet an allegory of rain.  the thought
gurgled in the river of your future sighs, a
small turning rock averse to the quiet
of sediment.

night climbed on a crow’s wings whose
feathers stuttered cliche, pleading for verse and chorus.
unlike both of us, you were quiet
then.

III.

upon arrival, the sledmaster said
it was not a delivery.  “delivery connotes
an endpoint,” he said.  pellets of ice
plunged from his beard onto the
dusky backs of his team.

we both were puzzled by
the usage of “connote”.  we had both been thinking “connotate”.
the sledmaster himself
was not a surprise.  your syntax was always
that of the wild.

IV.

he was correct in some ways,
wrong perhaps, in others.
there is no endpoint on the globe of our hearts.

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Vine

Posted on September 19, 2012 by jswaingrass78

–A new piece that has been evolved over a few drafts in the past week.

vine
may this vine green itself
upon the ventricles
of your lungs.  may this vine
twixt itself within the
whisper of your hair.  may
this vine straighten within the
daybreak of your corneas.  may this
day fulfill the premise
of our breath.
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Geography (or words thereof)

Posted on September 19, 2012 by jswaingrass78

To start things off, I’m posting an older piece that has been previously published.  This poem is important to me for many reasons and is serving as sort of a staring point.  I’m curious about the circular pathway in life.
Something old, something new to come as it’s said, I suppose.  And, as you might note, it’s the perfect poem to launch this particular blog.

Geography (or words thereof)

And it’s true that the fetters became
unbuckled. Gladly, yes. The rope and lash, bound
and slickened by spit and salt
could never contain a multitude
and I kept walking in this city of bridges.
California is fine this time of year. Is that
a statement or a fact? I have not lent
my ear to a fable in some time. Portland
was in our footsteps and I felt fine and
interlaced in the strings of your breath.
I have always known you. Known you
in an unconditional sense, known as in spoken
known as in latitude. I said the word map
and let myself become marked by its lines. I am
walking still. Walking in the path of your next step.

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Stop me if you’ve heard this one before.

Posted on September 19, 2012 by jswaingrass78

A man walks into a bar.  Wait, no.  A man starts a blog, and…

Writing a blog (which I’ve done before, and it was all good fun) is a funny thing.  By putting words out there, you’re asking to turn those lights on top of your head (you know, the ones that put a spotlight onto an audience) onto yourself.  There’s a fine line between self-aggrandizing and pure emoting.  I’d like to avoid both of those spheres.  We’ll see how that goes.

We make our own lines and intersections.

The title of this blog comes from a Pearl Jam song, “Man of the Hour”.  The full verse is as follows: “tidal waves don’t beg forgiveness/crashed, and on they break.”

That line has resonated with me for many years.  It has a sense of inevitability with a promise of hope in the swirl of turbulence that sweeps its way around all of  us.

My main focus here will be to create a space for my own writing (both poetry, fiction, and nonfiction) that encourages community feedback and also engages others who are interested in sharing work.  This doesn’t mean this will be a pure “writing-driven” blog but it absolutely won’t be a space that I use to spout off about myself.  There will also be a focus here on other passions of mine, most notably advocacy for individuals dealing with mental health conditions as well as the occasional musings about sports and politics.

I’d like to keep pop culture references to a minimum but I’m not fooling myself.  They will be there.

Some might notice the handle “J. Swaingrass” is back.  In a previous venture, he had a lot of good things to say.  For those strange few out there who have requested a return, well, here you go.

In any case, thanks for reading.  As the good Dr. Hunter S. Thompson said, “Res ipsa loquitur.”  Let the good times ROLL.

–J.Swaingrass.

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