retrospective ekelemchi okemgbo [[next->menu]][[begin->chapbook]] [[how this works]]author's note: hey all. thank you for reading. i wanted to make something to be able to process the amazingness of cupsi and i figured that this is the best way. doing it fast and dirty so many of these poems are unedited, unfinished, and probably problematic. thank you for reading them anyways. it means the world to me. -e [[begin->1]] the poems, in alphabetical order: [[all the punk girls]] [[autism]] [[blood]] [[characters]] [[food]] [[haiku]] [[the house the bomb built]] [[if you are trying to hit on me]] [[liberal arts]] [[nightmare]] [[police]] [[silence]] [[stars]] [[suicide note]] "all the punk girls have boyfriends already" is opening in your hometown tonight doors are at eight at that one venue, you know [[the one]], the one where the boys sneak off to snort cocaine in the girls bathroom. the lead singer is, in his own words, "too fucking old for this", they're opening for [[some other band from philly]]. ironically, if he had gotten some girl pregnant on their first tour, that guy could be his kid. all the punk girls have boyfriends already, whines the young man standing in front of you in the line around the venue. he is wearing the t-shirt of the band touring. it is one size too small for him. he wears his hair back in a quote unquote man bun, his beard is smaller than he'd like, the one he had last summer was wicked, it got hella likes on instagram. another girl passes by, arm around waist of some skinny hipster fuck, he imagines what music that only cool people listened to sounds like. all the punk girls have boyfriends already? what a funny joke, she thinks, walking next to one of her male friends. the PA is playing something that sounds like nirvana but definitely isn't nirvana. they stand really close to each other, bodies bumping and holding hands, the creeps tend to leave her alone when they see her with someone else, they only know how to respect men. [she wonders how jealous his boyfriend would be seeing them standing together. her mood sours. they had been friends for years, he had been dating him for months, why is this even an issue?] in the crowd a guy reaches out for her butt and misses. all the punk girls have boyfriends already stands on the stage, the soundman, offstage, trying desperately to balance the mix, do these kids even notice whether or not it sounds good? they come in smelling like sweat, weed, and sex anyways. he thinks about saying "fuck it" but he needs the money. the drummer counts them off, there are people throwing elbows in the pit. halfway through the set the lead singer says, "we're going to play something new." he plays a G chord and sings a song about the commited relationship with his wife. the crowd / doesn't / get it. all the punk girls have boyfriends already, he whines to his best friend. you mean like the band? she asks. no, like in real life. she laughs. the girl next to her whispers something in her ear, she blushes. what did you say? she won't tell him. she kisses her on the cheek, then absentmindedly goes through instagram, the show that you were at just ended, they wouldn't be in ottowa for another three weeks. after the show the lead singer sighs. they make enough money now to stay in a nearby hotel instead of the floors of stage managers. after fumbling with keys and taking a shower, he lays on his bed that still smells like cigarette smoke and rests until morning, where, after eating a shitty continental breakfast, the band piles into the van and begins to drive. onto the next city, to the next scene. after a while it all starts to look the same. [[next->stars]] blood, as mistaken for water i asked my parents for water and they gave me blood in ornate glasses, i called it my own, with this much blood who is doing the sacrificing? who is the sacrifice? i stand on the altar, the blood is consumed by fire that water can't put out, //why not be utterly changed into fire?// my blood type is b negative, dasani bottles from columbia river streams, [[my hometown is washed by the water of the native people->the house the bomb built]] when it rains the blood pools on the ground, in texas it mixes with the red clay, turning perfectly clear moses turned the nile into water that the pharoah could not drink, they say that we are kings and queens but if my father is my oppressor i guess that makes me moses i've spent enough time crying to know what my blood tastes like, it tastes like the salt of the earth, but instead of being crystal clear it runs with blue pink [[white]] pink blue undertones, would my parents still thank god for me being a [[threat]]? everytime i am thirsty i take a knife to my wrists and contemplate drinking, alcohol is mostly poison but i like to pretend it's water, round the glass it runs like blood, blood dirty with yeast, like a new child the three times i have gone to the doctor they say that i am anemic, too little iron in the water i drink, [[they do not test for lead.->autism]] i dream of finding someone that makes my heart feel as if it is underwater. [[next->haiku2]] [[body->haiku1]] [[dress->haiku2]] [[selfie->haiku3]]if you are trying to hit on me / / i'm sorry if i didn't notice, i'm [[not very good at social cues->autism]] /i've been told the mirror is a liar what it says should be ignored knowing this, i still don't know what you could possibly see in me /if you're after sex then i am not the person who can give it to you i don't know what i want but if i figure it out there's no guarantee you can give it to me /[[i've been hurt by people i love too many times->characters]] so, if i fall in love with you i will assume you will hurt me. i'm not sure if this is self protection or self fufilling prophecy /the only thing that people say i am good at that i agree with is writing poems. i will write you so many poems even after you leave /i am a musicial and i will touch you like an insturment i am afraid to break because i cannot afford it /i will take [[so many pictures of you so that i know that you are real->haiku3]] /if this works, if this works, if this works out, you will need to remind me why you chose me you will need to tell me if i put a leash on you please tell me what i do wrong im sorry im not good at social cues /if you choose to reflect what you see in me i will see you as mirror and call you liar [[next->haiku1]] the [[guy on okcupid]] said "you're neat in a liberal arts kind of way" what he meant was "you're neat in a flower crown kind of way" or a "you're neat in a basic level of social consiousness kind of way" or a "you're neat in a velma from scooby doo way" but not "you're neat in how you can turn words into weapons and murder kind of way" or a "you're neat in the way that language is neat, which is to say chaos becomes organized, which is to say that organization is chaos kind of way" or a "you're neat in a way different from engineering but also the in the same way both at once, somehow, you feel me? kind of way" or a "you're neat in the way that books are neat how, our infinite beauties come from singular and yet major death kind of way" anyways fuck okcupid guys they suck [[next->nightmare3]] [[1->nightmare1]] [[2->nightmare2]] [[3->nightmare3]] [[4->nightmare4]] [[5->nightmare5]]walking around the ut austin, prefunking for a poetry slam, i am listening to my tunes and jamming, walking circles around the stadium, when i stop swinging my arms and begin to look around, i don't have my badge on me, and what if somebody sees? i'm not afraid of being seen, but the rules change when you're in a place that you don't know very well and you look like me. i try to make sure that i'm walking in the other direction of students, they wouldn't like to see someone like me creeping behind them, especially not today, the air is thick with sorrow, what if something happened? say, a police officer trailed me, in trying to prevent a tragedy he created a new one, what happens then? the sun is setting and it's getting dark and i'm getting the same kind of creeping feeling that i'd get in [[richland->the house the bomb built]], who knows what people see in me, do they see harry potter oaths of misdeeds or [[a boy who lived?->suicide note]] i pick up my pace. [[next->food]] there was no poetry in that silence. that morning, i walked into school, unaware of why my band classmates walked in whispers. they had the principal and councelor of the eight grade tell us, our bustling class of fourteen year old assholes, he died of blood cancer. it was so quiet i was afraid to move. in sixth grade he played percussion in the back, he was a class clown, you could always hear him. in seventh grade, he wasn't around very much because of how sick he was, but whenever he was there, he'd be smiling, still in the back, on the marimba or snare. we sat still, sniffles from some, music sitting in stands the administrators said that we could leave. there would be councelors in the library. i was the first to stand, and the creaking of the chair was so loud. when i walked out the door closed behind me, echoed down the empty hallway like a gunshot, a bullet of blood cells morphed to [[take another life->RC]]. i walked down the hallway in my own silence, pondering the hole left in my heart and [[head.->2]]when you work nights you forget what stars look like. that's not something that you think about actively, "oh golly gee i haven't looked at a star that wasn't the sun for a good ol' three to four weeks now!" it's something that you just kind of forget. at the factory i worked outside, cleaning up after machines that didn't have diapers. the trucks that brought the corn in and took away the ground up feed came non stop every night, so whenever i looked at the sky, i could only see the moon. the lights from the factory were brigther than everything else, except for the moon. so i'd watch the moon run across the sky towards the west, and by the time my shift ended, the sun had risen, blue sky replacing blue night. i saw a lot of sunrises working there. the only ones i remember were the ones when washington was burning with wildfires, and the entire night smelled like smoke, but when the sun rose it was a red giant, so dull that i could stare in its eyes without looking away. i saw seven of those but i only saw the stars once or twice. i've seen the milky way once. i was working on a children's home in tecate, mexico, and they'd cut the generators at eleven and i'd spend nights just looking at the stars, stars i didn't know existed before, hidden by [[light pollution->the house the bomb built]] from [[a small town.->asmalltown]] if they'd cut the lights i might have been able to see some of those stars again, but they never did, instead they processessed tons and tons of corn, i haven't eaten corn since working there. but there was one night, around three in the morning, where i was going back inside for a break and i looked up and saw twelve stars in the northern sky. and i cried [the milky way and strings of galaxies within those twelve like electric signals in the brain obscured by eyes] danced [the moon dances on a pendulum, rock steps with the earth while the sun's spotlight obscures and refracts] screamed [the machinery in the background, grinders turning corn rind into feed for dairy farm cows replied with sounds of brutal indifference]. [[next->silence]] "fuck a blue puzzle piece" i have to apologize in advance because i have not gotten a professional opinion. i only know what i've read on the internet, looking for something that lets me understand why i freaked out at bible study and had to listen to music to calm down. when arthur added a character with aspergers they made him a white boy who liked trains. i am not white i am not a boy and i dont give a fuck about trains so clearly that's not me people always asked me about adhd in elementary and middle school and yes, i was hyper, but that doesn't explain why i could never talk to people about more than one thing, i got a friend by following him into bionicle and that was all i tired to talk to him about even when he stopped being interested in the psychiatrist that i saw after my mental break told me i didn't not have autism but they'd have to ask my parents how i developed. it's been eleven years but by parents refuse to acknowledge that my youngest brother has downs syndrome. i apologize for my stutter how i wave my hands sometimes when i try to start a conversation i'm going through the answering machine that recorded lines in my head i am so sorry if i don't compliment you back compliments are a new thing for me people have fallen in love with my mind when they see the roses on my lips but when i forget how to reciprocate social currency the love bank tends to run dry [[next->haiku3]] if i were to write a suicide note, [[which i am not]] i would apologize to my family for not giving them something to remember me by. memories fade away and everything i touch breaks so i guess that's fitting i would ask to give my youngest brother all of the pop and juice he asks for so much that it makes him stop asking so much they remember me by his silence i would like to thank the academy for giving an Oscar to the kid that plays me in the movie [[although i don't remember being that white->3]] variations on the word body: body. Baah Dee. Bawd Dee. mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmbody. [[author's note]] [[next->autism]] when i wear dresses i feel the power. it is not in my [[hands->she]] [[next->if you are trying to hit on me]] [[she]] never took a picture of me, convenient, easier to hide. [[next->suicide note]]three characters i relate to the most: 1) stevonnie from steven universe, my existence appears to be a happy accident, adhd meets first gen anxiety, i get scared in big rooms but i got better at hiding it 2) bmo from adventure time, a genderfluid robot that doesn't necessarily [[understand social interactions->autism]] 3) finn from adventure time, but only in the beginning of season six when his arm gets ripped off by his dad, i've never lost a limb but i know what it feels like to be get hurt by parents 1) when people see me sometimes they're pretty sure of what i am but i can assure you that you've got no fucking clue, i'm not from this planet 2) sometimes when i look in the mirror i see another person i can't quite recognize, hello football 3) jake tried to help finn after he lost his arm as if he wasn't still broken, my family is full of broken members, my parents might be the worst 1) my parents might be the worst but they're still trying, even when they hurt me 3) i build towers into space, tearing up my world and hurting myself in a quest for retribution and self destruction, as if 1) they might be a giant person, 2) blue canary in the outlet by the lightswitch, //[[who watches over you]]// 1) and if my parents find out even if i save the world i'm still fucked 3) //[[baby's building a tower into space]]//, looking for affecton even when it hurts, because it hurts 2) sometimes i say words and they don't sound quite right 1) i am an experience, that scene when they're running on the beach, happy to be alive 2) bmo tries so hard to help 3) the third episode, on the wall of the candy kingdom, the banana guards running amuk, he laughs without arm 1) they laugh 3) and i try to save the world [[next->blood]] part 1: [[before->the house the bomb built]] NIGHTMARE 1 i dont remember most of my nightmares. the ones i can remember are the worst ones, so it's really not a bad thing. i know i had one when i wake up, suddenly and abruptly, and cannot fall back asleep. all i remember about this one is that we were talking about slam, and how it was my fault that we didn't win and then all of the lights went out, and it was dark in [[west philadelphia]]. i woke up at five thirty. i had slept for four hours, maybe. i tried to go back to sleep and sleep would not take me. [[next->nightmare2]] NIGHTMARE 2 jason is proud of being up ahead of time, responsible, each morning i sleep later than him and wake up earlier. he calls it my youthful tendencies, being young and beautiful gives you all of the energy in the world. my energy is limited and i have been operating on borrowed time. [[next->liberal arts]] NIGHTMARE 3 how do my teammates sleep so well? what am i doing wrong? i buy everyone tacos. i probably shouldn't and can't really afford it, but i do. [[next->nightmare4]] NIGHTMARE 4 the only thing i can remember from that sleep is me saying that it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave and your story and me crying into a pillow i wonder then, was that the [[nightmare?->nightmare5]]it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave [[it is four in the morning and i am feeling brave]] i still do not believe that i have a disorder although, there are days where mearly eating two meals is a victory for me, how do i even talk about what i think might be my self destruction when i know that all in all, it's not that bad. (i think that i can see my ribs in the mirror again although that might just be muscle so i don't feel bad about junk food anymore but, yesterday i went to mc donald s and ordered a meal and when i got home it turned into dead bees in my stomach, i am not trying to starve myself into a shape of beauty so i really dont kn ow what is wron g with me.) [[next->nightmare1]] this is the house that the bomb built bob johnson lives in richland washington he lives with his wife, a child, and his dog in an house (when the goverment started the manhattan project they compensated the original residents and kicked them out, and then built hundreds and hundred of houses with the same template. they're called the letter houses, bob lived in an A house) without a white picket fence. he drives to work every morning on george washington way. on his right, he passes the rebuilt hanford high school (the original building sits empty and gutted looking over the columbia river, a reminder of what there once was ) before parking his car at the pacific northwest national laboratory. his children go to richland high school. walking to class they pass the day's pay, the b-17 bomber that the residents helped fund to fight the war (this is the house that the bomb built in classrooms after videos of nuclear tests are shown, asian americans slink back into their seats, trying to avoid the ire of white classmates. when japan lost to the united states in the world cup twitter was lit up with verbal bomb) sirens goes off while he's at work today, just in case of emergency (there's a nuclear fallout shelter across the street from the high school). they remind him of how hard everyone worked to get where they are, in case they are ever attacked again (the kids cannot hear the siren at their school renamed to emphasize the past, an attempt to etch pride into the bedrock beneath their feet) the sirens are [audible] at hanford high school. in the cafeterium are four statues of horses, wild horses that used to roam the hills (the horses are gone, like the native americans that lived here before, stories that live on only in books banned from school curriculum) the horses are gone but the hills remain, near enough to water that we could make a bomb, and drop it on nagasaki, japan. we don't say fat man but it is implied by the names of public parks. this is the house that the bomb built (there is a football game that evening, and overlooking the stadium is [the word] BOMBERS in giant green text. the BOMBERS are playing the KAMIAKIN BRAVES. the students used to chant "nuke em!" as their war cry but it was quietly retired, and buried underground) vats of plutonium, refined for detonation and destruction, hidden away in crates of steel that leak slowly and poison the water (it's senior night. the graduating class is hailed by relatives who have lived here their entire lives) wearing old t-shirs and jackets that proclaim "PROUD OF THE CLOUD", they wear thousands of deaths on their shoulders, proud (, the quarterback stands in the front as the crowd cheers him onward to the battlefield, the all-american small town where the snake and yakima rivers converge) the R in the school logo still has the mushroom cloud on it and students still paint "nuke em" on spirit rocks the cloud follows on diplomas and the whole of the town listings on best places to live while ignoring the creaking of the fifty year old frame (this is the house that the bomb built, all at once an abberation and a model minority) [[next->all the punk girls]] each poem has [[annotations]] that you can click on. these lead to an explaination by myself, a description of the reference, or another poem in the chapbook.//Baby's building a tower into space Space is where he's gonna find his dad Daddy's got an arm And Baby's gonna harm his arm by tearing it off his dad.// [[adventure time s06e04->characters]] AN: i have used ok cupid for three years now, on and off, and my greatest fear was always being this guy. [[back->liberal arts]] AN: so, i dated someone. i wrote a lot of poems about her. one of them was kind of mean, and she saw it, and asked me to never read it again because she was afraid that it would incriminate her (in this poem i say things that are less than flattering than [[another ex]] and she was worried that people would get them confused.) and it's funny, to me at least, that the only evidence that i have that it even happened is a bunch of twitter dms skype messages so many poems but nothing real. just words. only words. [[back->haiku3]] AN: fuck you, mady. [[back->haiku3]] //cause a small town is like a small stage for teenagers and their drama instead of playing shows, we'll be showing plays like 90210 without the beverly hills// relient k album03track08 [[back->stars]] AN: later that year they had this thing called "rachael's challenge" where there was a giant assembly and one of the girls that was killed in the columbine school shooting's parents go around and tell kids to be nice to each other so that tragedies like that wouldn't happen again (we all know how well that worked) but in the time afterwards i just thought about how easy it is to feel alone in a hallway full of people and how much i understood how a person could feel the kind of pain that you could only express in the misery of others. i ended up resenting the praise heaped upon [redacted] after his death the irony of taking the living for granted and praising the dead. [[a friend of mine killed himself when he was in middle school]] after i had already survived. i wish he had said something but i know why he didn't. the high school i went to kind of looked like a prison. while the front was covered in panes of glass, the rest of it was hard lines of concrete. the arts building in my community college was the same way. brutalist architexture. dear samey, i hope you're hearing this, that god has you, wherever you are, listening. the thing about that, though is that i love it because you see the crudeness and sharpness of a building and then look at how it contrasts to the ebb and flow of the sky dear samey, i hope you're proud of me, i know it's supposed to be the other way around, i'm supposed to fly across the country to go to your graduation. the school district had to commision artists to make statues, so at richland high there is a large metal sculpture that supposedly sways with the wind in the courtyard. i was there for a year and a half and i never saw the wind move it. dear samey, when you hung yourself in that closet who did you want to find your body? dear samey, if it was me, i would have done it to scar my classmates, every single person who ever hurt me, i would have shown them what they did to me, my words would have been bullets to the back of a head, they would have had to clean up the blood and the broken glass, i would have burned the building to the fucking ground, my ransom would have been my life and the hostages would have been their souls, i would have killed all of the fucking hostages. dear samey, i am a brutalist body and my jagged edges are juxtaposed against the sky of still being alive i can't live your life for you but you can be part of mine i hope you're proud of me. [[silence]] //not to put too fine a point on it say i'm the only bee in your bonnet make a little birdhouse in your soul// they might be giants album03song02 [[characters]] AN: this came from a strange space where i wondered what i would do if i were to kill myself even though, at that time i had zero desire to do so, even in a hypothetical. it's about [[legacy]] [[back->suicide note]] //Legacy. What is a legacy? It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to see I wrote some notes at the beginning of a song someone will sing for me America, you great unfinished symphony, you sent for me You let me make a difference A place where even orphan immigrants Can leave their fingerprints and rise up I’m running out of time. I’m running, and my time’s up Wise up. Eyes up I catch a glimpse of the other side Laurens leads a soldiers’ chorus on the other side My son is on the other side He’s with my mother on the other side Washington is watching from the other side Teach me how to say goodbye Rise up, rise up, rise up Eliza My love, take your time I’ll see you on the other side Raise a glass to freedom...// [[the world was wide enough->suicide note]] part 2: [[during->characters]] // does this mean I'm a threat? well am I a threat or am I success? ------------------- is this the blessing or the curse? should I belong to the trend? at least it's a tragedy that will only come once. // the chariot album03track06,07 [[back->blood]] part 3: [[after->police]] AN: born and raised [[back->nightmare1]] and? and? so what? who are //you?// do you even know who you are? you're just like everyone else everyone is lonely and afraid [[and lonely]] [[and sad]][[open mike eagle, album04track09->and sad]] [[nobody in the world ever gets what they want and that is]] [[beautiful]][[they might be giants album01track04->beautiful]] [[next->meditation]]a meditation on black pain i have heard stories of whips and chains and i wonder if there is only pain. i wonder if all we have is a celebration of sex, love not found but made. i have heard stories of dogs and [[police]], and i wonder if there is only [[blood]]. the negro sings of rivers, and oceans, never land but of land lost. i have heard stories of jesus and moses, and i wonder if there is only God. if justice is found not in life but in death, if lady libery rides a [[black horse]] weighs out the two pounds of barley and six pounds of buckwheat. i have heard stories of kanye west and kendrick lamar, and i wonder if there is only survival. if there is no life but only living only masculinity and money, if being a man is being human. i wonder if we are more pain than human. i have heard so many songs. of angels and gold and chains and whips. they are all songs about death and dying and i wonder if we are already [[dead]]. //when the lights shut off and it's my turn to settle down promise that you will sing about me promise that you will sing about me// when my lights shut off and it's my turn to settle down my main concern promise that you will sing about me promise that you will [[sing]] [[special thanks]]thank you to everyone who has had my back to 'the dagger, the killer, and the killed' to 'so wicked and everlasting' to 'not fists' to 'running from the chamber' to mr. bierembaum to mrs. smith to mrs. maldonado to uncle jansen to the chariot to mewithoutyou to deerhoof to they might be giants and a whole bunch of other people i am very tired [[annotations]] [[mewithoutyou, album06track11->meditation]] [[flying lotus / it's that final destination->meditation]] AN: specifically, ray's golden lion. but this is a universal story. [[back->all the punk girls]] AN: there was originally a line about a black and white shape (touche amore) but there's from LA. i can't remember who i'm making fun of here but it's someone [[back->all the punk girls]] AN: this is poking fun at the way that spoken word poets say the word body. next time you see someone on button poetry go ahead and observe how the hard consonants cause the poet to emphasize that word to near absurdity. i avoid it in all of my writing now, which is kind of an issue, but 100% my fault [[next->autism]] AN: i do not need poets who have found their answers when i have not found mine [[back->blood]]