This week’s featured poem is by Christy NaMee Eriksen, one of the organizers of the monthly Woosh Kinaadeiyí Poetry Slam & Open Mic.
PICK UP LINES FOR POETS
So…. do you scribble here often?
Allow me to alliterate how achingly amazing you are in the anachronistic afternoon.
I never believed in love at first draft, but - reviewing you - I can’t picture a single revision.
I enjoy banned books and I like long walks at the library.
Is that a sonnet in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?
Is that a verb on your body? Cause I really wanna do it.
There is not a form that can contain you,
not a rhyme scheme that I want you to end on,
If you were acrostic,
I would fall into your letters,
get lost in your center,
your name would be my backbone.
I am 16 syllables and you are the one.
Baby, there ain’t no stem high enough,
ain’t no root low enough,
to keep me from
I heard you order dinner in iambic pentameter.
I appreciate your personifications of the weather.
I’m tired of all these young similes, I want a real metaphor, someone who is.
You make the line breaks in my heart feel like a stanza.
next to my raven,
be a man of your word,
let me read between your lines
and highlight passages of your breath, my favorite sections.
Let’s go outside:
I will grip you like a lifetime of leaves in Walt Whitman’s grass, like tripping over Nikki Giovanni’s ego, like an amethyst rock slung by Saul Williams, like a tree between Yusuf Komunyakaa and a sniper’s bullet, like Langston Hughes’ night, like the stars, the sun, my people,
You must be an allusion!
I will invite you to my secret places,
I will spill my coffee on your corners,
I will rip you out, fold you up, carry you with me.
raise your eyes,
tuck your pen to bed,
and while all your
demons are sleeping,
I will whisper synonyms into your skin like a thesaurus in heat if you will open me.
Let me give you something to write about.
-- by Christy NaMee Eriksen