Monday, April 24, 2017

Jim Bourey has a conversation with #CharlesBukowski in these #poems, #NationalPoetryMonth

Jim Bourey is a certified senior citizen, a retired plumbing and heating wholesale manager and lifelong student of poetry.  His work has appeared in Fourth Coast Arts Magazine and “Said & Unsaid” an anthology from Winding Road Press in Marietta, GA.  In 2012 his poem “Words Then Space” was a runner-up for first in the Faulkner-Wisdom Competition and he was invited to read at the “Words and Music” conference in New Orleans.  He lives in Dover, DE with his wife Linda but he spends an inordinate amount of time at a cabin on the Deer River in northern New York State.


The following are selections from a twelve part poem based on Charles Bukowski’s “Defining the Magic”.  The poem describes what Bukowski felt were the qualities inherent in a good poem.

I)  Cold Beer

manuel sweats a lot
as he puts together
beans and meat
flour and water
heat tomatoes
peppers chocolate
spice and salt
fruit sugar
love passion fury
creating the only
real food in this little
town working in his
café six days
a week
some people don’t
eat at all on monday
when manuel sits
in his leaky boat
drinking a cold
beer planning

a monday meal for
his sweet maricelia

V)  Hot Butter

when the time came
he faded
breathed deeply
a time or two then
said

no shit this isn’t
bad at all

and it wasn’t

for him


  
VII)  Feet on Foreign Ground

descending becomes rolling
on the runway and then
a clunky stop followed
by a thump as an old
fashioned stairway bumps
against the plane
heat dry and fragrant
pours through the open
door and the passengers
are reluctant none of them
in a hurry to gather
their belongings to leave
the safe cool metal
cocoon that brought them
to this last stop where
everything familiar ends
where safety belongs
to no one and life is
only as important
as the money in the belt
strapped around your belly
it is an indulgence
called on the edge tourism
a chance to see a reality
chained to violence where
children are a commodity
where women are frozen
in time shrouded but still
living and young smiling
men carry rifles grenades
and cell phones
eyes gleaming with
holy zeal ready to pose
for your infidel camera
and you know that it could
all go wrong and you
almost wish it would





XII)  When to Stop

you do go on
she said
you blather about any
thing and every
thing until
the reader
wants to light
the page on fire
just so they can
quit reading
and I said
but honey
the pages are already
on fire
that’s why they don’t
stop reading

i really believed that
a long time
ago


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