It was supposed to have been a poem, but you know what happens when you get a bunch of poets together on Twitter? They tweet away, is what they do. Boy, do they tweet poems! So what was to have been a “twoem” (Twitter poem) took on overtones of a “twepic” (Twitter epic), and the result is below.
The Tweet-Party was held on Sept. 22. In addition to the official tweeted contributions, there were occasional side comments on a variety of things. After looking at everything, I realized what we had here was something of a play, so that’s how I loosely structured the final compilation. Warning: It’s LONG. But it’s good.
Tabloid News, A Twepic
By @llbarkat, @TchrEric, @arestless heart, @redclaydiaries, @doallas, @mhsteger and @gyoung9751, and a slight contribution by @shrinkingcamel. Officially published by @tspoetry.
The Regret of the Camel
Shrinking Camel
With other execs
Cleaned out crap
In the horse stalls
All day
At a therapeutic
Horse farm;
He still smells.
“Regretfully
I might
Miss your lovely
Sonnet
At 30 and nine
Tonight;
Falling
Into twitterish
Pieces
?”
“You will
Be missed, ”
Says the teacher.
Calm Before the Twoem
By @TchrEric
Silver metal sheet glistens,
yellow-white rays of sun bounce off its surface
giving imperfect views
of reality that is not real
The Charge of the Twoem
By @tspoetry
Quotes to come,
from John Leax’s book Tabloid News.
All poems inspired
by tabloid headlines.
E.g.
“I Want to Have A Space Alien’s Baby.”
“Leaping Turtles Invade US”:
Your first thought would be
The thought of war
And your second would be of soup.”
(Interruptus:
@gyoung9751: Space Alien’s Baby?
@TchrEric: Not sure what she has on her mind tonight
@gyoung9751: How about/Midget nun/Sights Elvis/In space alien’s/starship?)
And So It Begins
“Baby born with Antlers, ”
tenderly exploring his small
body, her hand touched a tiny hoof–”
Brad and Angelique
Adopt Baby
With Antlers;
Like Elvis
In a UFO
Eloping with Jen;
Carried to the stars.
Taking a Serious Turn
A flute
With golden tones,
Soundings from
Space echoes
In a universe of expansion.
Do the stars play flutes,
Do they dance like deer
Or maybe they twitter
Softly to alien hearts,
Whisper past fear.
Liquid phrases from
Red clay
Welcomes the rising stars.
The Vampiress Stalks
The vampiress
Is following me
Again.
Vampiress stalks
Midwest businessman
Seeks the pulse
Of poetry to calm
Her alien nights.
Watch out
The tracks of the vampiress
Are thick with clay;
Red night banishes her;
She hides behind stars.
nights too long gone
without
she stalks words
giving comfort where marauding moons play
among the planets
Midwest business
Man pitches
Rope of garlic bulbs;
Vampiress escapes with Elvis
In UFO.
(Interuptus2
@llbarkat: LOL
@gyoung9751: Capitol poet/Stunned by bizarre/Musings in space
@doallas: pray tell/who might receive/tender comings and goings below/the marble monument to nonsense)
Donuts and Laughter
from “World’s Fattest Twins
Arrested for Stealing
World’s Fattest Cat”:
“He is full of donuts
and laughter.”
She cuts a wedge of cake, stuffs it
in her mouth and chews.
Glazings of flour
Yeasted in oil,
Baked in heated
Furnace of life.
She used to want blood
a thin neck
beating pulse
but now her heart
aches for donuts and cake
no one would give her
the stake for this.
(Minor Interruptus: @llbarkat: Go @redclaydiaries. I’m laughing!)
Vegas is glaze
Oil
a furnace of alien
desire.
4 a.m. at the Krispy Kreme on the strip
she sits,
desire satiated
with a sugar glaze
hiding bitter truths;
Failing embers
Light a face
Of expectation and grace.
Air So Light In Space for Fauns
Air
so light in space
leaves business man
aching for that touch that says,
I’m here
Waiting
night lifts her gown.
A child says “Asia”
While a train rumbles
And a cricket screams
And a fire dies.
to find
horrors
the tiny hoof
that began this all.
Was it grace
that planted the hoof
knowing this alien world
was just now in need
of a shy faun?
ah!
fawning faun
do make for Dancing with the Stars
a most surreal experience.
A dance surreal
Of antlered centaurs.
When her gown
set fire
he could only say
God, she is more lovely
than Asia.
Bathed with grace,
Touched with the breath
Of heaven.
Stars beckon
To a time,
A place of permanence and lightness,
Light with light,
The Word breathed across
A galaxy,
Star system of fauns.
At Tokay I Exited
At Tokay
I exited the plains
And entered the hilly country.
I walk across the stars,
The piano keys tuned
And traveling the plains, the hills
Of fire
Glazing the forests of petrified wood.
the golden thread
brings us
full circle
Liberace rises again
crushing us with his glitter
glitz
glimmering.
She stripped/her desire
down to the last layer
of glaze
wondered should
she lick it with fire.
Liberace’s fingers
danced like fauns
o’er hilly country
laced golden desire
through night-glazed trees.
delay, not!
such is glaze on wood
faun’s foot sticks
like Vampiress’s lingering drops.
Lingering drops
Of golden desire,
In silvered night
Fall on my hand.
make for heavy going
when speed we through spaceto hilly country;
what planet be?
The Fallen Angel
From “Duck Hunters Shoot Angel”:
‘Sonabitch, ‘/he pointed, ‘You killed yourself/a male angel.’
‘Shut up, ‘ I answered.
Interruptus3: @gyoung9751: Each time/we turn to/seriousness, /A sprite of pastel artist/Injects a tabloid of stones. @doallas: his points be taken well/or not/I dare refrain from saying/what I really think of this. @gyoung9751: It is a time/Of laughter and smiles, /Cares pushed aside/To enjoy/A fellowship of words/And heart.
Through the stars
he came/falling;
silvered holiness
died on my hand.
pebbles more like it
for angel lacks the strength
to carry your burden
on his wings
His light
Rose again
On my hand
And in my heart,
Coursing life to a sublime rebirth.
He is too busy
Trying to understand.
Wouldn’t you swear too
if by chance
or hidden desire
you culled an angel
from the stars
with smoke and buckshot.
A single tear remained
upon my calloused palm
as his light
glistened and rose
to return to that
which we all
unknowingly desire.
Laughter and smiles
and shy silvered holiness
grasping care and courage to
fly
between blasts.
ay,
had he known which end was up
and how long to smoke’t.
“The sheriff said he couldn’t see
I’d broken any laws. Angels ain’t
protected or anything, but I don’t know.”
(Minor Interruptus2: @gyoung9751: The teacher/And restless teller/Of stories and words/Joined in the terrible beauty of light/and life.)
Shouldn’t there be laws
against angels flying
during duck-hunting season?
Well, if ‘ya ask me
there should be.
sadly,
Liberace caught his sleeve
on angel’s rubbed-raw wing
and music then did end
throughout this space.
end was beginning and
up was
down
long wept away as smoke
and angels conquered and taught
laws that should not have been/broken.
He’d sent the angel
To bring justice to the unjust,
to teach,
To conquer hearts with tears.
Too busy laughing
too calloused for desire
he ignored smoke
wings/the lifted gown.
it’s rabbit season,
you know
which the sheriff forgot
and angels have wings, not/long
floppy
ears.
and Vampiress made a killing
selling bright orange vests
on back of which she quoted teacher,
“I’m no target/for alien abduction.”
I used to believe
only other people
died
that was before I saw
that even an angel
could fall.
With his dying breath,
The Fudd looked up
And shook a fist of bile at the Wascally Wabbit.
calloused angels? Oh
no – they must be soft
of heart, if they were
not just themselves!
Finis
And thus,
in the final minute
dawns
To be continued…
He: to she who claims
she is not a poet
your wit bring joy and light
to an area drenched with tragedy.
She: Thank you.
I soak up encouragement,
unlike saturated
Georgia clay,
thrusting rivers
over their banks.
“I spent a night beyond the moon
one time. Aliens are wonderful lovers.”
An Aftermath of Conversation
Doallas: “That was surreal” and a blast. Thank you!
gyoung9751: This will be/One bizarre poem/When knit of vampires, /Angels, /Stars and Elvis, /Donuts and aliens/With floppy ears.
arestlessheart: wonderful fun – thank you – will not be so late next time!
llbarkat: I can’t think of a better way to have spent my evening. You guys are poignant, funny, deep, quick-witted. Ah. [sigh of contentment]
redclaydiaries: Fudds and alien/angels with callouses/rub wing and rifle/seeking to stake/vampiresses with donuts //So fun! Thx for invite!
TchrEric: @llbarkat Thank-you for offering up a wonderful creative topic for the evening.
gyoung9751: OK, I’ve saved almost all the tweet verses in one document. Now to make some sense of it all. I feel like the Cat in the Hat.
arestlessheart: @redclaydiaries what a fun dream, though – I love it!
TchrEric: Here’s to all the #tsp writers tonight! Thanks for a fun, creative evening! ♫ http://blip.fm/~ds72d
redclaydiaries: Goodnight all. Poetry is done for the night. Now, sleep.
Exeunt all, joining a camel’s slumber.
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L.L. Barkat says
Twitter play becomes Twitter Play. How fun is that?
Love the creativeness of this idea!
Maureen Doallas says
We are inventing an entirely new language.