word garden #8 the adventures of joe burden

great list shay, and rather serendipitous, i wasn’t familiar with this poet and enjoyed reading his work, and i have been wanting to write more prose poetry lately and this got the ball rolling for me, hope you enjoy 

enter joe burden wearing his favorite bowtie
joe is an average joe with an average burden, so he deepens his load and carries the weight of the world, sometimes on the back of his neck between his scrawny average shoulders, sometimes in a bowling bag that matches his bowtie, joe loves the world... when it conforms to his reality

he listens to electric radio hellhounds pounding on his cauliflower ear, the world is postponing reality, perhaps permanently (reality all tied up and clogged up and beat up by reality) this is not good, joe is not happy 

time gets lost and dizzy, the big hand grabs the little hand and walks itself into the dark, vicarious gingerbread ghosts beyond the cellar door poke holes in the floor and make fun of his goofy bowtie, and the cowbell tolls for cowboy souls, all hell break loose in joe’s favorite bowling bag

oh well
hell is full of pollution, and revolution, and imitation information, and joe is an average bowler, he can’t roll a strike to save his life, or the world, and all manner of evil crawls out of his bowling bag and attacks his cowboy soul, tooth and tusk, beak and claw, hatchet and chainsaw, poor joe, with his average credit score and a ticket to heaven

but reality canceled and exit joe burden
as he crawls under the kitchen table and sticks his head up his ass, all the way up to his beautiful bowtie, “tuck and roll” says the radio to the world, “tuck and roll” says joe burden to his asshole

oh well
hell is full of hell, and reality 

“bravo! Bravo!” says the radio, reality discontinued due to lack of interest and bad weather, stay tuned ladies and gentlemen and average joes of all ages, for this year’s tastiest torments and funniest disasters, and always remember, three prayers are better than one, good god, good grief, and good luck

posted for Shay word garden word list #8

posted for d’verse

posted for poets and storytellers united

Ziggy’s Spoken Word Museum

Ziggy’s Spoken Word Museum

Showcasing a wide range of poetry through the medium of “spoken word”, any poem that is spoken outload, sung, chanted, cried-out or howled. This is a database of sound recordings and videos by Spoken Word Artists, in their own words, modern and old, all styles and modes, for your listening pleasure…

Including: Maya Angelou, Jack Kerouac, Mary Oliver, Billy Collins, Joy Harjo, Carl Hancock Rux (featured above) and more, I’m always adding more.

Listen to poems from poets you would not normally think of as “spoken word”, hear them from a new perspective.

If you like this idea and would like to add a poet/artist to Ziggy’s list, just let me know!

Ziggy’s Spoken Word Museum

an argument between drums and horns

        down at the jazz factory
landlord keeps the beat 
steady
steady
	slow 
this is landlord’s parade
        and this is how he plays it
his sticks are tight, the music tight 
        this night feels
			all right
landlord hits the cymbals 
                and it starts to rain
shh-tat-ta-tat-tat-splash
                just a little sprinkle 
shh-tat-ta-tat-tat-splash
and the horns walk in, start jumping
		into puddles
trombone is the backbone, the big brother
do-whop-a-whop
			wah-wah
do-whop-a-whop
			wah-wah
trumpet is the poet of the family
		he pours the coffee
beh-dee-deet 
        da dee-deet
beh-dee-da-dee-da-dee-deet
and the girl 
        with the whiskey fist
and the rose on her lips
                blows him a kiss	
so he talks to her
                        beh-dee-deet 
da dee-deet
        beh-dee-da-dee-da-dee-deet
time gets loose and thin
but landlord snares it in
			so tight
shh-tat-ta-tat-tat-splash, shh-tat-ta-tat-tat-splash
do-whop-a-whop
			wah-wah
do-whop-a-whop
			wah-wah
landlord punched the clock
        and we start to rock
beh-dee-deet 
        da dee-deet
beh-dee-da-dee-da-dee-deet
landlord is pounding
                horns are laughing 
pounding and laughing
		laughing
and pounding
        all of a sudden 
                                the music stops
all is

quiet

silent

like
holding your breath 
before a storm 
and landlord says
			“time to pay the rent!”
boom-boom-splash-boom!, bah-boom-bah-boom! bah-boom! ric-a-tic-a- splash!
boom-boom-boom! thump-a-thump-a-tic-a-tic-a boom-bash-boom-splash! 
boom-splash! boom-splash! rat-a-tat-tat-tat-boom, bah-boom! bah-boom-boom-
        splash! splash! splash!
boom-boom!
        splash!
boom!
boom!
        boom-splash!
yeah!
and then the trombone blows up, and the trumpet blows up, and the room blows up 
and the moon blows up, one whole city block blows up, and all of harlem
							shakes
all the whiskey fists and red rose lips screaming “drums have won! horns have won!
							all is one!”
just the way i like it


posted for Shay's Word List #7
posted for dverse oln #307
posted for poets and storytellers united