The Million Dollar Poetry Project

take a number and get in the punch line

by Wolfgang Nibori

i stand naked, bent and backlit by powder white light
savage in the lost found yet wildly misinterpreted
armored in scars from a thousand battles lost or won
against nature, against man, against Macy’s Day Parade of Gods
draw back now the colors to bring the rainbow taut
let the eagles drop screaming on you depraved snakes
snakes and rabbits pretending to be sentient
simply to fit in with the the livestock
i’ll piss you out of your burrows, stenched and drowning
i demand a refund for the lost causes you’ve sold me
laugh like a looning hookah sultan, let your fat bounce
hostile glances serve to reinforce your insecurities
bankvaulted dynamite belligerance drawing interest daily
the white light shows my red-rimmed eyes of blood undried
i stand bent without shame as i am for you’ve called me
twisted time and repitition
click your buttons but i’ll channel nothing except my own soul
consult your ghost strung chemical power lines
i don’t your source or your mockery of strength
i am every joker out there re-painting his sad clown face
in the frantic, maniacal hues of war

This poem for sale: $21.00 for 21 lines

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Seasoned

by Wolfgang Nibori

the desert is a death gaze rattlesnake
won’t look away and it will not blink
it’s got a black tongue, flip you off two ways
the desert is a death gaze rattlesnake
makes a sound so low you’ll never forget
a song so long that the tune goes flat
there’s a hive of people, swarm like bees
cloud the sky with rising unchained dreams
got a blue metal sting, two miles wide
the desert is a death gaze rattlesnake
the babies eat spiders before they are born
white as vampires who never slide tired
a gun on the hip with a ghost in the heart
sucks all fires dry before they can start
trouble crawls off, leaves a blood powder trail
it knows not mercy and it knows not pain
the desert is a death gaze rattlesnake
it doesn’t give a shit what you think

This poem for sale: 18 lines = $18.00

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scribble scrabble

by Wolfgang Nibori

young hardbodies glint in summer sunshine
busy scrambling from park to park
then hiding down in secret cracks when the big ones thunder over
curious and new to everything, starving to learn our tricks
cautious to avoid mistakes that crush the lesser learned
growing stronger, flying longer and increasing home range
as all the newly hatched do, these insects plan to reproduce

This poem for sale: 7 lines = $7.00

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life as alchemy

by Wolfgang Nibori

can standing such a clutter, drawing flies
line by line, shading until imitation flatters
slap after hungry slap, beating a path to deconstruction
clown cake smeared angry over glass smudged
to some, here the breakdown begins, sobbing chants
viscious gutting of identity, self-flogging of character
not what i see, though, i see life in garbage
perhaps not the stuff of present expectations
yet a certain still confidence in small things
tiny unnamed bugs so pervasive, unflinching
resolute in their tasks despite our vast sorcery
yawning mouth of our harlot home shivering
in anticipation of her first bite
from the clever confection we’re creating

this poem for sale: 14 lines = $14.00

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Mine had Smurfs

by Wolfgang Nibori

when younger I sat still as mice, observing
memorizing patterns named Common Sense, Knowledge, Nature
no child comprehends the power of those years
first steps into mystery, shoved tripping into society
by Curiosity and Others. Shapes unfold their depths
colors take names, expanding into spectrums
answers discovered, recorded - each object named
classroom Earth grading full predjudice
eventually you form the key habit
always bring your lunchbox

This poem for sale:  $10.00 for 10 lines

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Well, after a rather long, drawn out day of writing and techie stuff.. I’m about to rest a while.. but first, as promised I wanted to show a poem I wrote right at the time of Million Dollar Poetry Project’s inception. It’s available for sale ($1 per line) so if you’re interested let me know. It may seem silly how I divided it (linewise) but it wasn’t intended to make it expensive. When I write a poem I divide it a certain way that I hear in my mind. I thought it’d give an example of something I’ve done and might work well if you’re not sure WHAT you’d like a poem about.

Title:
from underground
June 1, 2008 10:14am MST (Arizona)
by Wolfgang Nibori

beneath the face of this
twilight dawn
i sit waiting, strange
and all things
appear to be awash
in the milky green
shades of uncertainty
i’m not expecting growth
to happen
i’m pushing against myself inside
as seeds do
once they decide
to become trees
yet the mistake
at this point
lies in comparing myself
to the rest of the forest

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