2 Days Until 24 in 24

March 23, 2022March 23, 2022 jdoublep24in24, poem, poetry, writing3 Comments

Some inquisitive readers have emailed about the rules of the challenge. Since there’s nothing at stake – there are no bloody rules! However, this is how I’m approaching the task: starting at 9AM CST on 3/25/22, I will post a poem written sometime the hour preceding. Then, at the top of every hour for the twenty-four hours, I will post a poem written sometime the hour preceding. I don’t plan to write three or four and then use WordPress’s scheduler. Just a poem an hour every hour for twenty-four hours.

I do hope some of you play along, too!

Another question someone asked is “Why?” I have no good reason for this – no charity nor cause. It’s simply a way to channel hypergraphic energy and experiment with sleep deprivation to see what results. That’s it. Simple, silly fun. Write hard.

Haiku for Instagram Poetry

March 22, 2022 jdoublepinsta poets, poem, poetry, writing14 Comments

What the fucking fuck?

These are just aphorisms!

There’s no literary devices at all and completely banal observations like “I have a heart. Before you, it beat like a normal heart does according to science,” and look hey if you dig on it – that ain’t no thang but a chicken wang – you keep on reading and loving it and enjoy but got-damn! I don’t get it. You give me an Insta Poet writing this zzzzzzzzzz and I will provide you the name of writer you can read who shows (not tells!) what it means to express something hard/tragic/magic/beautiful using artful language, rather than pedestrian sentences enjambed for no good reason. I mean, not even any imagery, like the most basic of poetic devices – literally, “You were my dog, but I am cat person #poetryisnotdead.” Not yet, but you’re doing a bang-up job of killing it, motherfuckers!

Tears fall. Toilets flush.

(Sorry you had to bear witness to my breakdown. And look, I know from bad poetry. I’m the guy who wrote an entire book of sonnets about your mom and composed an ode to a miniature version of Milli Vanilli hiding out in my underwear drawer, but yesterday I clicked on an article about Instagram poets to follow for Poetry Day and I wish I hadn’t. Can someone explain the appeal?)

24 in 24

March 11, 2022 jdoublep24in24, poem, poetry, whole lotta stanzas, writing7 Comments

Sprachspiel

March 9, 2022 jdoublepperils, philosophy, poem, poetry, Wittgenstein, writing1 Comment

Your mother!

My mother!

Moses made cookies and was quite pleased with himself!

Explanations? Never!

Descriptions? 4Eva!

I had to apologize for minoring in Philosophy.

Wittgenstein was right on tract.

All mothers are disappointed by too much familienähnlichkeit.

Mothers prefer hard sciences.

I only want to study patent nonsense.

This Love Tonight

February 3, 2022 jdoubleplove like gods do, poem, poetry, writing7 Comments

I don’t wanna call it a night.
I don’t wanna call it a day.
I just want this forever,
what we got here tonight.
This love, this love, this love.
Thank god, we got this love tonight.

Someday, it will be different.
I guarantee, just wait and see.
I’ll be old and you’ll be bored.
But I won’t wanna take it back.
No, I won’t wanna take it back.

So let’s stay here forever.
Let’s do it all over again and again.
Let’s feel each other tremble.
Let’s dissolve imagined boundaries.
Let’s build countless, hidden empires
over and over again and again.

Let’s become twin gods together.

Let’s find that silent space
where there are no words to share,
grow intertwined like trees
that only fire can rage through.
I will deny you nothing ever.
Ever.

Everything about you
fits where I am hollow.
Oh god, I swear I’m flying
despite the weakness in my knees.

The Hunt

January 29, 2022 jdoublepbutterfly, death, poem, poetry, video games, writing2 Comments

Let me know 
what you think 
about my new 
video game idea:

It’s a 4-D action/adventure, socio-politico, platformer 
set in a randomly-iterated universe using a believable physics engine.

You play 
as a butterfly 
who wants to retire 
to its plush room 
every night, and spend
those nights 
in deep thought 
about how 
to make its room 
more cozy.

The room has a library 
and dungeons and 
a swimming pool
filled with bumblebees.

Every morning 
the player decides 
what the butterfly needs 
to say
to face 
the day.

After the player chooses
the morning affirmation,
the player 
molds the world 
into magical items
to sell 
at the witch market.

I call the game The Hunt because 
as play progresses 
the player 
comes to realize
that the grim reaper 
is chasing a bounty 
on the butterfly’s 
tiny, antennaed head.

The player 
will never
discover 
who placed
the bounty.

The Hunt has one mode:
Player vs. Death.

The butterfly 
has many powers
that impact 
the game universe
so 
the player 
must hold 
out hope 
for excitement
and adventure
and mystery
and surprise
and terror,
always terror.

Proprioception

January 16, 2022 jdoublepkundalini, mantra, mudra, poem, poetry, writing2 Comments

I'm out my mind!
I'm out of my head!
I'm out of my life!
What a scene, this dream!

I wanna show you!
I wanna be your friend!
Wanna be that one that can be!

No,
that’s not really what I meant to say…

I just wanna ask…
I wanna go out on a limb…
Can we pose together?

I mean, can I get a yoga date?
Please, please can I get a yoga date?

Damn, all I wanna
Is to share a few asanas,
So can I get a yoga date with you?

I'm out of my mind!
I'm out of my head!
I need a yoke
to something greater in this lifetime!

It's like the magic of the wind
being so flexible.
You were expecting a rhyme here
Like “gurusexual”?

Nah, I just wanna yoga date with you.
Yeah, I just wanna stretch next to you.
For real, I wanna bend right next to you.
Oh, how I wanna wanna,
Sa-sav-asana next to you.
I just wanna yoga date with you.

Country Lament #223,804

January 13, 2022 jdoublepcountry music, lament, poem, poetry, writingLeave a comment

You were the hungry one.

You were the ornery one;

the haunted one that survived…

the only one I ever loved.

You were the hopeful one.

You were the faithful one;

the sacred one I waited for…

the only, only one.

Now I know without you

how the slow days go so lonely.

Now I know without you

how lonely days go slow.

Now I know how isolation

spreads everywhere like cancer.

Now I know how it feels to be

some fruit left on the vine…

long past picking time.

You were the precious one

I can’t let go of.

You were the cautious one

I couldn’t fool.

You left me lifetimes

to remember, darling.

Now I’m living lifetimes

of over-ripe regret.

Death In Anger

January 12, 2022 jdoublephard knocks universe, poem, poetry, writingLeave a comment

This is a song about a universe who was a parent

It worked all day and night for its children

It only got what it paid for

It was the kind of universe

That never asked for anything

It was the kind of universe who had no time alone

It said its time was up

“All of me is spreading out and wasting here”

It told us everything

It told us too much

We turned it into a mechanism

We forgot it is an organism

It gave its life to a life of crime

It will die in anger

We will say it was a leader

It was the kind of universe

You’d never wanna be without

It will die in cold, slow anger

Only a few of us ever saw it with its hair down

To Banish By Illumination

January 11, 2022 jdoublepbreeze, ocean, poem, poetry, writing, śāśvataLeave a comment

For little selves in agonies,
the world takes time to realize
what dreams may come.
If we saw this moment at every moment
we might learn to welcome missing the smile on memory's face.
We'd dive into a pool of pink lemonade,
in this moment at every moment,
like fools, we'd try to drive to the moon.
I'd tell you I love you.

In a world without past,
and no predictive dashboards,
after a long and dirty search,
we found fresh seawater and a sandy beach
where we could sit and sigh together.
My feathered arms trembled as they held you,
next to an ocean breezing deep;
thrilled by brushing up against another’s wings,
things fragile and made for turbulence.

Jason Preu

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