Compilation Poem for 1/28/16

This week's compilation poem is a new format.  We had two poets write compilation poems completely separate from each other and then we zipped them together into one poem (switching back and forth from one line to the next). Some of the line combinations were really great!!

If you've ever heard Marianne's poetry
did our hearts not sing within us
this can be dangerous
shake my darling heart
your last words will haunt me forever
to keep a hand on the latch
Something up there
when fruit becomes addictive
is brushing dandruff
no source of boundary
from his hair
when the rolling words finding their way home
don't listen carefully
a warmth penetrating from the midnight star
I regret reading that
I did not want to absorb
it's under copyright
the silence is a rotting boat
yet completely forbidden
you must heal yourself
I find that I am sleeping with demons
they were talking about how easy she is
eat that cannoli
you should be praying not preying
the potent juxtapose of bitter and sweet
becomes cross with me and eats garlic
for we loved
the slabs from the roof like standing sleepers
their entwined hands felt more emotion
my sadness was never beautiful
besides not giving a damn
her features were preserved in a death mask
I'm really tall. It's a big problem.
was her sadness beautiful?
I regret reading that.
removing dignity post mortem
fluttering wings warn me off
I am not painted in neoclassical form
with a calm voice she says "Hello, Michael" as if she had never been asleep
a moment's pause among the woad
Marianne builds houses on fields of cloth
Marianne will forever be greater than me in the cloth category
I regret reading that
kneel with your family
as you pray to
a God you might not even believe in
some things I just no longer laugh about
my sadness was never beautiful
a truck emerging out of a rock
my sadness is not your story to tell
consuming is like possession
the thirst that darkness kindles
it's a big problem
reverberating in my brain.

by Marianne Hales Harding and Michael Clements

We read it like that at the open mic, but I kind-of wish the zipping hadn't ended.  So here's the poem with continued zipping:


If you've ever heard Marianne's poetry
did our hearts not sing within us
this can be dangerous
shake my darling heart
your last words will haunt me forever
to keep a hand on the latch
Something up there
when fruit becomes addictive
is brushing dandruff
no source of boundary
from his hair
when the rolling words finding their way home
don't listen carefully
a warmth penetrating from the midnight star
I regret reading that
I did not want to absorb
it's under copyright
the silence is a rotting boat
yet completely forbidden
you must heal yourself
I find that I am sleeping with demons
they were talking about how easy she is
eat that cannoli
you should be praying not preying
the potent juxtapose of bitter and sweet
becomes cross with me and eats garlic
for we loved
the slabs from the roof like standing sleepers
their entwined hands felt more emotion
my sadness was never beautiful
besides not giving a damn
her features were preserved in a death mask
I'm really tall. It's a big problem.
was her sadness beautiful?
I regret reading that.
removing dignity post mortem
fluttering wings warn me off
I am not painted in neoclassical form
with a calm voice she says "Hello, Michael" as if she had never been asleep
did our hearts not sing within us
a moment's pause among the woad
shake my darling heart
Marianne builds houses on fields of cloth
to keep a hand on the latch
Marianne will forever be greater than me in the cloth category
when fruit becomes addictive
I regret reading that
no source of boundary
kneel with your family
when the rolling words finding their way home
as you pray to
a warmth penetrating from the midnight star
a God you might not even believe in
I did not want to absorb
some things I just no longer laugh about
the silence is a rotting boat
my sadness was never beautiful
you must heal yourself
a truck emerging out of a rock
they were talking about how easy she is
my sadness is not your story to tell
you should be praying not preying
consuming is like possession
becomes cross with me and eats garlic
the thirst that darkness kindles
the slabs from the roof like standing sleepers
it's a big problem
my sadness was never beautiful
reverberating in my brain
her features were preserved in a death mask

by Marianne Hales Harding and Michael Clements