Quentin Briscoe: Favorites

Dec 2013 Quentin Briscoe

Nat Lipstadt

As you may know, I continue to collaborate with other poets here, most frequently with Helen. Below is a poem of hers that I have edited and reworked, her original notes to me are contained in the notes section below. So if you like it, tell Helen. If you "choke" on it, tell the editor. That's why they pay us the big bucks! So, send me your scraps yearning to be free...

I am choking
on words.

chest clogged,
throat seized,
as I await to deplane,
when I will perforce,
speak these words,
but for now, held in a
prison garb of my own design.

organs can be donated,
the broken heart,
the shattered liver,
the kidney failing,
eyes for the blind,
lungs for the breathless.

the human psyche
is not replaceable.

I need a mind of titanium,
will gladly settle for either the
Tin-man's heart, or
Cowardly Lion's courage,
both, too much too hope for...

but they are not sold at the airport shops.

perhaps my unseen editor
will accompany me,
hand firmly on my writing elbow,
guiding, refining, selecting
les mot parfait...

How come?
How come everything
inside a body can be replaced
so artfully, artificially
except words inside a broken mind?

I cannot get these words out,
who can transplant a soul?

Limbs recoverable
an Arm, a Leg
Titanium, strength
a missing part replaced

Organs can be donated
The broken heart
The shattered liver
The kidney failing
Eyes for the blind
Lungs for the breathless
Every part of the human psyche
is replaceable

Except for the words
trying to exit
from a chest that is frozen
from a throat that is clogged
from section 38C Row B
where they sit, waiting to deplane

How come? How come everything
inside a body can be replaced
so artfully, artificially
except words inside broken minds?
Trapped like birds with broken wings?
Are all parts that are replaceable
externally, more important
then what's dying internally?
Not just inside our skin, but inside our soul?

I think about that a lot because I'm choked!
Helen 10 hours ago

Dec 2013 Quentin Briscoe

Any particular weapon?

Dec 2013 Quentin Briscoe

Sir B

Any particular weapon?

"What weapons may I use?"
He asked,
"Anyone and anything you like,
knives are in the front,
guns in the back"
He replied.

"Knives.."
"They are the sharpest,
can cut through steel."
"...knives..."
"Sir, I believe something is wrong.
Please..., be quick"
".......knives"

He said and then fainted
Shopkeeper put him on a bed
and found scars on the boy's arm
long scars,
going from shoulder to wrist..
..they were on both hands
and the part between the wrist and elbow
were scarred so bad,
you were scared to touch the skin
then.. it hit him
The boy wanted to run away
from this world
and he didn't know where to stop and lay his head down
and he had chosen the shop
to symbolize that it had given him
relief in times of stress and horrible emotions
he wanted to be back from where he started
thus, he had laid, fallen, while talking
and there was nothing that could be done

-Speechless-

Dec 2013 Quentin Briscoe

with solid roots, in stronger winds - Winter arrives (Poem Art)

Dec 2013 Quentin Briscoe

Tilly

with solid roots, in stronger winds - Winter arrives (Poem Art)

You*
stand       there
- naked          & exhausted -
a silhouette at   twilight;     Bowing to
the     end of seasons     as a final gold tear
spins...    down   into shadows that lengthen, on this
  brighter day. . .       I will remember,        creaks out
       from   an open spread of  arms in     a vast greying sky;
Heard, by listening ears,    which embrace each darkness.
     Every  barest  recollection  -of ever changing filigree
   falling silently to loom,           (hungry worms
              feast far below)       where once
           warmth    shimmered
         in gentle breezes-
             Alive forever
                                             within*  *the
    sleep of our trees.

Dec 2013 Quentin Briscoe

the date

Dec 2013 Quentin Briscoe

st64

the date

Ramirez waits on the couch
patiently
for the date of his life

1.
fidgety-fidgety boy
there's no call for nervous-smiles
her daddy gruffly placed you
on the couch
now, you wait and wait and wait

2.
you decide to use some bonus-airtime you received
but who to call?
the one you'd like to spend that time on .. is with your Maker
but you're too shy to talk to God
your Momma told you God's one busy-light
and he ain't got no time for a slow-coach like you
who can barely spell two words

3.
yes, I can spell my name.. *leave me alone!
hey man, who says God won't talk to me?
why, I did Him a favour here.. I'm takin' out this here girl
who's never been out before
18 years old and her pappy been watching her so
she can barely make two sentences before her complexion vies with beet

it came to him in a dream.. take her out.. take out.. take her out..
and so, tonight.. he will

4.
Lord behold, where is our boy?
******, why did you not watch him?
what... and you believed him??
goodness, go out and find him....NOW!

he didn't take his stuff

5.
she descends slowly, as on a cloud
and smiles in awkward-bunches
oh, if only her father had let her go out before.. like everyone else

she may have been able to see..............................................................

this is the date
and he
took her out

S T - 2 dec 13

just a silly piece..

Dec 2013 Quentin Briscoe

Sweetie, I See Right Through You

Dec 2013 Quentin Briscoe

John

Sweetie, I See Right Through You

Well we used to be pretty great
So pretty, pretty, great and everything was right
The light in your hair
When you'd dance and dance
Nothing compared
To that romantic phase
I wouldve given anything and everything
To you but now I just write and sing
About you

Things were nice
Oh the air was so light
Everyone said we were right
We only had one big fight
But that was the fight
The fight on that humid night
That humid night

Then you wanted to talk about all these things
But I've never wanted silence more in my life
On our hallowed hearts is etched a pair of broken wings
Tattooed in honor of things gone down the pipe
But I still think and I still talk and I still walk
Because I realized what I thought I never would
That no beautiful thing is just a walk in the park
No declaration of love is only etched in wood
It's written in you
And it's written by you
Written for that one person

Dec 2013 Quentin Briscoe

Never Endings

Dec 2013 Quentin Briscoe

Nik Bland

Never Endings

If my days should end, my friend, and sorrow takes its due
I pray somehow that some part of me would live on within you
That petals of red would run through your blood where my rose has wilted, dried
And days would run on for you and no tears formed or cried

If my days should should end, my friend, if I go before my time
I pray you'll see that my actions matched my words and thoughts buried in rhyme
That you will love with the same love I've set aside for you
And that, as ash fades into ash, to that love you'll remain true

Dec 2013 Quentin Briscoe

Bracing Myself For Tomorrow's Presentations

Dec 2013 Quentin Briscoe

AJ

Bracing Myself For Tomorrow's Presentations

I'm so angry.
I really am.
You are college students.
You think you could tastefully
Complete a project on eating disorders.
I very well know that
Demi Lavato is a beautiful woman.
Is that honestly all you can say?
How could you possibly romanticize this issue.

My throat burns because of the acid.
My teeth are ****.
I brush them three to five times a day.
I lock myself in the guest bathroom in the building
So that I can ***** in private.
I can eat a whole loaf of bread in three minutes.
When I was in high school
My mother tried to force me to eat breakfast.
So I filled multiple gallon bags
Of cereal and rotting bagels and toast.
I don't eat meals with people.
I bring a take out container to my dorm
Once a day
Stuffed to the limit with food.
And I eat it in ten minutes.
And then I *****.
And sometimes I cut
And sometimes I sleep
But I don't even cry over it.
I itch my legs at family meals
Because taking another bite seems unbearable.
It's not something I care to discus.

To tell me that men can't have eating disorders
And that women are the only important ones.
I am a woman
But that makes me feel even sicker than my ED.
Ana and Mia are pansexual.
They don't care who you are
And they don't care if you hate them.
They will become your best friend
And they will stalk you
And destroy you
And they don't give two *****
If you're asian, white, male, or 300 pounds.
It's still a big deal.
I don't care if you have a BMI of 0 or 100.
It's still important.
It's still a big deal.
And you're offensive.