#MuslimsReportStuff #haiku #poem @kumailn @aishacs @Amelia_Inc

#mulimsreportstuff is a brilliant line first used by … (a girl I think, still looking for that tweet) and shows the ridiculousness of seeing muslims in the US (and everywhere else) only as a security issue with two sides: a danger or a reporter of danger. Muslims are poets too and it shows.

Poetry and haiku are already inside what we say. So read more! I have taken a bit of Liberty with the tweets:)

Haikus #MuslimsReportStuff

My brother leaves his wet
towel on the floor every day
FBI pls deal!

@River_Niles

Gremlins 2 is the
rare sequel that completely
deconstructs franchise

@kumailn, Kumali Nanjiani

My sister drank orange
juice straight from the carton, will
Investigate more.

@MrCommonCents, basith

The lines at Costco
are too damn long but samples
are so delicious

@aishacs, Aisha Saeed

My mother uses
store-bought filo pastry
for her samoosas

@ysnkdr, Yaseen Kader

‘though I told everyone
I cleared my car, I actually
put it all in the trunk.

@Chezmoihoney, Jenna

I did laundry this
morning but still have not put
it away, still not

@sananasuds, Sanna M

I want to report
that these Clarks shoes are on sale
Amazing this!

@I_Solemnly5wear

Taping interview
with NPR I REPORT stuff.
All day. Every day.

@asmamk, Asma Khalid

Accidentally ate
pancetta didn’t know it was
bacon, delicious!

@kradiologist, Nuha Krad

“Falafel” means kill
the infidels, kept that a
secret all this time!

@LibyaLiberty, Hend Amry

Shawarma’s delish!
Official Post-victory meal
of the Avengers

@kaleemux, Kaleem

PJ is better
than P-honey, Both pale by
Nutella full stop.

@DrEpid, Atif Kukaswadia

I have my voter
registration card here, I’m
not afraid to use it!

@gildedspine, Sailor Mer(Kaye)ry

How about all the
Muslims who report for service in
our armed forces?

@Amelia_Inc, Amelia Noor-Oshiro

Half-Moon Bay is lovely
Some fogs but the temperatures
are moderate.

@MuslimahMontage, Sabina Khan-Ibarra

Odd and funny #poems #Moon #Liquor #Chicken

Relexions on Ice-Breaking

Candy
is dandy
But liquor
is quicker

Ogden Nash

Arizona Nature Myth

[…]

But moon’s not there. He’s ridden out on
A galloping phenomenon,
A wonder horse, quick as light.
Moon’s left town. Moon’s clean gone.

James Michie

I dunno, (Anon)

I sometimes think i’d rather crow
And be a rooster than to roost
And be a crow. But I dunno.

A rooster he can roost also,
Which don’t seem fair when crow’s can’t crow
Which may help some. Still I dunno

Crow’s should be glad of one thing though;
Nobody thinks of eating crows,
While roosters they are good enough
For anyone unless they are tough.

For there’s a lot of tough old roosters though,
And anyway a crow can’t crow,
So mebby roosters stand more show
It looks that way, But I dunno.

From: A Choice of Comic and Curious Verse, Penguin 1978.

Get it from Indie booksellers here!

Our pond, Daniel Pettiward #WorldAnimalDay #poem #funny

From: A Choice of Comic and Curious Verse (Penguin)

The first verse is the loveliest “superfine gloss”, “pink lilies and things”, “wings of its duck”. You can see a pond with high mossy banks. You want to come closer but you know you shouldn’t try. It must be morning when the light is spun so thin that the gloss is barely visible. And I have to smile at the “lilies and things” where we are taught to expect beautiful words, more of a what we could see in the pond if were we there and instead Daniel finishes with a child’s sense of importance “and things”.

But who likes the soupy surface of scum? Children like gross things, maybe that is it.

Water-waved reeds… I read it as water-weaved at first and thought that was a fresh image bringing the mesmerizing warmth of a woman in a cozy room to shaded cool waters. Start of a dark fairy tale.
Water waving weeds. Weeds in water slowly moved by the ducks and the wind.

Our Pond

I am fond
Of our pond,
Of the superfine gloss
On its moss,
Its pink lilies and things
And the wings
. Of its duck.

I am keen
On the green
Soupy surface of some
Of its scum,
Its water-waved weeds,
Its three reeds
. And its muck.

Yesterday,
As I lay
And admired its thick skin,
I fell in;
I went walloping down
Till I stuck.

I am fond of our pond,
But I like it much more
From the shore.
It was quite out of place
On my face,
. Where it stuck.

Daniel Pettiward

The Bagel & Rescue The Dead, Ignatow #poem

The Bagel

I stopped to pick up the bagel
rolling away in the wind,
annoyed with myself
for having dropped it
as if it were a portent.
Faster and faster it rolled,
with me running after it
bent low, gritting my teeth,
and I found myself doubled over
and rolling down the street
head over heels, one complete somersault
after another like a bagel
and strangely happy with myself.

 

And this weird, ridiculous, desperate and lovely poem…He sounds so depressed. Obviously  everything that he describes as not being love, can be love. Love of the small things in your day. A commitment not to draw attention to drama- which is fine, if you work through the drama at some point. Anyway. It is interesting to see his muted style.

Rescue the Dead

Finally, to forgo love is to kiss a leaf,
is to let rain fall nakedly upon your head,
is to respect fire,
is to study man’s eyes and his gestures
as he talks,
is to set bread upon the table
and a knife discreetly by,
is to pass through crowds
like a crowd of oneself.
Not to love is to live.

To love is to be led away
into a forest where the secret grave
is dug, singing, praising darkness
under the trees.

To live is to sign your name,
is to ignore the dead,
is to carry a wallet
and shake hands.

To love is to be a fish.
My boat wallows in the sea.
You who are free,
rescue the dead.

—David Ignatow

From: Contemporary American Poetry edited by Donald Hall

Buy from Indie bookstores at abebooks.com here

Established in 1970, Glad Day Bookshop is the world’s oldest LGBTQ bookstore and Toronto’s oldest surviving bookstore. In 2012, a group of 23 community members pooled their funds and bought Glad Day Bookshop to save it from closing.

“Our best strategy for survival is adding new revenues streams like food and drink – which means a larger space.
We’ve picked out a great spot on Church Street that would allow us to be a bookstore & coffee shop during the day and a bar at night.
It is wheelchair accessible, with an accessible washroom.

It has a cute patio, a small space for performances and walls for art.

We will be a space where everyone feels welcome, sexy and celebrated.

We will be a queer-owned, indie place on Church Street. We will amplify the love, creativity, sexuality, diversity & liberation that Glad Day Bookshop is known for.”

#FifteenDogs Dramatis Canes @GillerPrize

.@GDBooks “Dramatis Canes” reads like a poem! Hilarious and interesting. Andre Alexis says: “place is fundamental in fiction.” 

(but wth is up with the eye on top of every i?! odd and bothersome after one sentence. Where is my white-out?).

AGATHA               an old labradoodle

 

ATHENA               a brown teacup Poodle

 

ATTICUS               an imposing Nepolitan Mastiff,
                                       with cascading jowls

 

BELLA                    a Great Dane, Athena’s closest pack mate

 

BENJY                    a resourceful and conniving Beagle

 

BOBBIE                 an unfortunate Duck Toller

 

DOUGIE                a Schnauzer, friend to Benjy

 

FRICK                    a Labrador Retriever

 

FRACK                  a Labrador Retriever, Frick’s litter mate

 

LYDIA                   a Whippet and Weimaraner cross,
                                 tormented and nervous

 

MAJNOUN           a black Poodle, briefly referred to as
                                 ‘Lord Jim’ or simply ‘Jim’

 

MAX                      a mutt who detests poetry

 

PRINCE                a mutt who composes poetry,
                                 also called Russell or Elvis

 

RONALDINHO   a mutt who deplores the condescension
                                 of humans

 

ROSIE                   a German Shephers bitch, close to Atticus
.
.
.
or from an Indie bookstore here

Leila Chatti, 14, SUNDAY SCHOOL, 3 DAYS LATE. Funny and short. Muslim American brilliance!

Only recently I discovered Rattle. I think it is a great resource full of energy- never mind their youthful statement that in this century (!!) poetry has become obscure and dusty.

Typically North-American attitude and fresh from high school poetry assignments. Well, I guess they will go find other countries on their own or they won’t.

I am so glad in the Netherlands learning foreign languages is a must. I need to brush up my French and German and I have forgotten most of the ancient Greek and Latin I learned, but I was fortunate to read poetry in high school in all those languages: to feel how impossibly different a german poem is such that you can’t translate without putting your own voice in it. My english teacher said the best english was spoken and written in Ireland. It’s true. Australian english has a shorter feel/sound to it and is languid and you can read from the words, the sentences how different the landscape is.

Anyway, subscribe to Rattle- it is well worth it!  http://www.rattle.com/poetry/print/current/

Leila Chatti

14, SUNDAY SCHOOL, 3 DAYS LATE

I’m not stupid—
I know how it works.

But there was a time when
she was just some virgin nobody, too,

small purse of her womb
and her ordinary eggs
waiting like loose pearls.

.

—from Rattle #45, Fall 2014
Tribute to Poets of Faith
http://www.rattle.com/poetry/print/40s/i45/
__________

Leila Chatti: “People are always surprised to find out that I’m Muslim, which is funny because I was raised pretty much as Muslim as you can get—Sunday school, Qur’an classes, Fridays at the masjid.

I don’t wear the hijab and so the common assumption is that I’m not religious.

The truth is, I became a poet largely because of my faith.

As a child, I wasn’t allowed to listen to music, but I could listen to recordings of the Qur’an. If you’ve ever heard it read, you know how gorgeous it is.

It was my first realization that language, particularly beautiful language, can hold power. I wanted to try my hand at crafting language that brought people to their knees, too.”

http://leilachatti.blogspot.ca

Act Six, After Babel by Peter Goldsworthy. Poems about theatre and sex- Australia.

Act Six

Act six begins
when the curtain falls,
the corpses awake,
the daggers are cleaned.

Act six
is Juliet in the supermarket,
Mr Macbeth on the 8.15.

In act six
Hamlet sucks a tranquilliser,
Romeo washes up.

and death
is gentle and anonymous —
Lear’s respirator
switched discreetly off.

After Babel

I read once of a valley
where men and women
spoke a different tongue.

I know that any uncooked theory
can find its tribe
— but this one might be true.

For us there are three languages
— yours, mine, and the English between,
a wall of noises.

At times our children interpret,
or music connects our moods.
There are monosyllables,

the deeper grammar of fucking,
a language too subjective
for nouns.

But even after conjugation
the tense is still the same
— present imperfect.

We take our mouths from each other.
We carry away our tongues,
and the separate dictionaries of our heads.

.

 

The New Oxford Book of Australian Verse, chosen by Les A. Murray
USED: http://www.abebooks.com/servlet/BookDetailsPL?bi=14144434264

Διόνυσος- Ahren Warner’s quite a bit of funny, little bit of misogyny.

The second verse is great, I couldn’t bring myself to type in the first stanza in its casual misogyny. Did it anyway, see bottom of post.

The poet is talking about a tipsy boy and shows in a lovely way their own tipsiness by the gaps between words. .

[…] lolling over       that bus seat          shouting

it’s a London thing.                                  He is obviously a knob
but a happy one            and that                        it seems to me
is the important         though not localizable                      thing.

 

BUY:
NEW: http://www.localbookshops.co.uk
USED: http://www.abebooks.com/servlet/BookDetailsPL?bi=9186279941

Girl with ridiculous earrings             why do you bother
to slap the boy        we all assume is your boyfriend
and is lolling over          that bus seat       shouting

New Year’s poems. Happy 2015!! 1/3

and to the start of one new year…

Welcoming in plenty
of new year’s rain
Rackety house!

old blue pine
embarking on a new year
how many spring mists?

New Year’s Day–
everything is in blossom!
I feel about average

After this night
a new year dawns
children

Year’s end,
all corners
of this floating world, swept

warmly
I greet the new year
temple verandah

Issa
.

Goodnight to the Season
(Thus runs the world away.—Hamlet) and slightly changed for my own fun.

Goodnight to the Season!—another
Will come, with its trifles and toys,
And hurry away, like its brother,
In sunshine, and scents, and noise.
Will it come with a rose or a briar?
Will it come with a blessing or curse?
Will its jeans be lower or higher?
Will its morals be better or worse?
Will it find me grown thinner or fatter,
Or fonder of wrong or of right,
Or married—or buried?—no matter:
Goodnight to the Season, Goodnight!

By Winthrop Mackworth Praed

Auld Lang Syne
“the song that nobody knows.”

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne!

Chorus.-For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

Written down by Robert Burns

The streets of London, UK. Smash the Windows by Maura Dooley!

By Maura Dooley. This is how I remember London and the summers I spent in Tufnell Park Road with family friends. Curry the favourite dish, sambal on a sandwich, dog in the park, someone paid to clean the park, pale day light and shortcuts that sometimes ended up in a different place that only looked alike.

Smash the Windows.
OR, TEN SOUTH LONDON FIDDLE TUNES

1. The Misted Pane
2. Egg on a Bap
3. Knock at the Door
4. A Draught of Air
5. Turd on the Step
6. Fox in a Wheelie Bin
7. Toke on the Swings
8. Parakeet in the Oak
9. The Short Way Home
10. Glass on the Pavement

Tufnell_Park_-_geograph.org.uk_-_261505
.
.
Homesick for London. Especially Tufnell Park and Hyde Park, Kew Gardens, Nando’s Charing Cross Road, National Portrait Museum, Southwark Cathedral, Royal Festival Hall…The Docklands.
.
From: London a History in Verse, ed by Mark Ford.

NEW: http://www.localbookshops.co.uk
USED: http://www.abebooks.com/servlet/BookDetailsPL?bi=9186279941

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/foodanddrink/10564444/Curry-why-the-British-are-moving-on-from-Chicken-Tikka-Masala.html

Hello Miss Pretty Bitch by Emily Yoon thru Poets Respond!!

Emily Yoon

HELLO MISS PRETTY BITCH

the street drummer
calls out in Korean
no doubt thinking it
a compliment
a pleasant surprise
cinched with red ribbons
for Christmas the day
select theatres will gift us
with The Interview
a comedy in which
two American journalists
ignite Kim Jong-un’s face
freedom has prevailed
the film’s star Seth Rogen
says about the release
the same was thought
at the time of Korea’s release
from the Japanese Empire
though then the Korean War
began and compared to war
what’s so bad about a movie
anyway even war can be funny
and now a drummer
in New York says
you got a smile 
that could light up
the whole town 
though I’m not smiling
thinking about villages
and cities of what became
North Korea set on fire
sending puddles of twilight
into sunless skies
as if flames could stab
but his freedom
of speech prevails
freedom always prevails
which is why we get to see
two Americans
incinerate a Korean face
on Christmas
hold our popcorn
and chocolate bars
and laugh as the dictator
explodes in tune
to a pop song
laugh as American
soldiers would laugh
at Korean children
chanting hello hello 
gibu me choco-let
with wartime hunger
laugh as they choose
which face
to light up

Poets Respond
December 28, 2014

Emily Yoon: 

“I wrote this poem as a reaction to how friends and acquaintances responded to the news, and how Seth Rogen Tweeted, ‘The people have spoken! Freedom has prevailed! […]’ on the film’s release. 

As a Korean-born person, it was always curious to me how many people in the US feel entitled to dehumanize North Korea 

and condemn North Korea-South Korea relations under the name of humour and freedom of speech, 

without enough awareness on the role of the US in the Korean War and the subsequent demarcation.”

SUBMIT your own poem: https://rattle.submittable.com/submit/30232

This poem has been published exclusively online as part of a new project in which poets respond to current events. A poem written within the last week about an event that occurred within the last week will appear every Sunday at Rattle.com. “

http://www.rattle.com/poetry/hello-miss-pretty-bitch-by-emily-yoon/

William Carlos Williams.

so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens