tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31039552012-01-26T02:57:49.119-08:00PoeTreeRecent poems by readers. If you would like your poetry to be posted here, send the work to mythville@yahoo.com.Douglas McDanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709941464730435476noreply@blogger.comBlogger131100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103955.post-51522161085155466842012-01-26T02:57:00.000-08:002012-01-26T02:57:49.135-08:00The Solar Bath
She awoke
shapely but shaken
And I watched her bathe
In blinding electricity
Beneath the solarized sky
Tiamat met Zeus
Were unable to reach
The porch to punish her
And over the cornfields
Of Republicanated Iowa
Thunder a’ trumpeted,
And Tesla’s lightning
Failed to defeat her,
And solar light bounced
Off the feet of her
Bouncing upwards
Off the earth, to fire
Up the weaponized,
Douglas McDanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709941464730435476noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103955.post-1158161846423979602006-09-13T08:37:00.000-07:002006-09-13T08:37:26.436-07:00Answer, Click. Go ...Dark star, who has known nohistorical shape, but summonsthe swooning sun and cold,diminished Pluto,as do the ghosts who roamour napping housesand see us throughmannequin eyes and passthrough us in digitized cloudsof moneyed seasBorn of the earth,this failed and fabled space,where darkened dreamsdare us through tubesof pixilated light,and friendless faces,quartered bodies,are Douglas McDanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709941464730435476noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103955.post-1157053558941820792006-08-31T12:43:00.000-07:002006-08-31T13:02:53.223-07:00I thank the sky lordfor clean water to drinkThanksI thank Tom Clancyfor providing so muchdamn PR for the militaryindustrial complexThanksAnd a special thank you, too,to the clown in his flight suitskybombing us in his dreamsAnd a special fuck you tothe apocalypse for beingsuch a damn Good Bookand making it so hardto get clean waterin Beiruitand for the passingof fluids throughhis oh so Douglas McDanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709941464730435476noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103955.post-1157053167844651742006-08-31T12:28:00.000-07:002006-08-31T12:39:27.853-07:00I saw a flower child with a ring in her noseand a house as big as a cloudhanging from a cliff like a prisoner in a noose,a rustling from the trash bin, a sticking of my healsinto the carpet, and facing the wind with ear bentI was forced to wear some kind of ridiculoushead contraption and now I can't hear youand now I can't get to sleep anymoreand now I think Orwell is right, always rightAugust isDouglas McDanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709941464730435476noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103955.post-1157050151144612332006-08-31T11:36:00.000-07:002006-08-31T11:55:04.186-07:00For exactly one decadeI have made a habitof smoke-toughenedinto leather-lungedbouts of caffiene-induceddelusions and otherobservationsfrom the broadcastcenters of the monoculture,usually staring outat parking lots,sometimes at mountains,sometimes the seaDuring these yearsof nicotine reverieI have sent myselfnaked into the worldas a statementopposing me,seeking you:A pretty silly Douglas McDanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709941464730435476noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103955.post-1156167630655715182006-08-21T06:39:00.000-07:002006-08-21T06:45:58.086-07:00An Official Statement from Rodrigo et Exciso IndustriesWe most humbly apologizefor the series of unfortunate eventsleading to the catastrophic batchof pancake mix productsused to sanctify yournational ritualsAlthough, for reasonsbeyond our control,as well as those we can,we cannot fullly divulge, recite,enunciate or simply explainthose circumstances leadingto the incidents in question,our hearts Douglas McDanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709941464730435476noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103955.post-1153841434058771672006-07-25T08:14:00.000-07:002006-07-25T08:30:34.270-07:00Arizona, I don't recognize you anymoreYour creosote roots lie beneaththe perfect piles of McDonalds parking lotsArizona, an inequal symmetryof rubble piles collectTen thousand miles from hereArizona, you are responsible ...The middle-aged businessmanwith expendable incomesweats for pleasureArizona, when can I stop sweating?I swear in the heat like a pizza ovenArizona, you are a car part storebut Douglas McDanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709941464730435476noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103955.post-1153839775133161782006-07-25T07:57:00.000-07:002006-07-25T08:02:55.133-07:00Four pigeonsby the whirlpoolcoodling up chlorineFlying life, safe as gingerin a cabinet,extrapolates lifespanThe wingspanof swimming pool pigeonsis dependent upon supply,depth and demandIt is to the good fortuneof the young chicksthat their short necks,soft beaks, cannotreach down to drinkSix poisened pigeonsfind survival in the short-termrisk at the swimming pool lipLater, they will plummetto Douglas McDanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709941464730435476noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103955.post-1153839070524858262006-07-25T07:49:00.000-07:002006-07-25T07:51:10.540-07:00Genius, dense as cobaltresides here, breaking the glassshattering fortgetfulnessMasters of accident and intention,the labored conceits of high wordstimed for ill effect, for penswarmed up in hell, for swordsthrust in God’s eye, as the riversrun thirsts for bloods,mocking heroes, makingheroes of mockeryDuring the program,the light goes throughNumbers one, zero, zero,zero, Oh ...I stay low beneath Douglas McDanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709941464730435476noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103955.post-1152042051079120152006-07-04T12:40:00.000-07:002006-07-04T12:40:51.096-07:0023 Roads to MythvilleAn apocalyptic journey across America and meditation on the imposition of order in space, both cyber and dirt real. By experiential author Douglas McDaniel, who explores the mysteries of American networked life. Read more Ipswich at WarA few days after Sept. 11, 2001, poet and essayist Douglas McDaniel moved to Ipswich, on the North Shore of Massachusetts. A collection of Douglas McDanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709941464730435476noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103955.post-1098850342282486562004-10-26T21:08:00.000-07:002004-10-26T21:12:22.283-07:00Exile from Iowa
By Jaimie Ondrea Dunn
The Feminist (in her former days)
Every once in a while, old pain wells up to be dealt with, reprocessed, let go. The only way I have devised to do this effectively is to write about it. Maybe someone else in a similar situation will find comfort in it. Maybe pain's creation of beauty is enough. Maybe my ego is healing from what happened when I submitted Douglas McDanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709941464730435476noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103955.post-1097158014031629782004-10-07T07:05:00.000-07:002004-10-07T07:06:54.030-07:00REINCARNATION
The earliest recollection, I have of my conception, is when evil conceived me, like Adam and Eve, and she was me.
I was in Egypt, and I was in Rome, and I even sat on a throne.
I had a hastle, in a great big castle. I was stabbed to death, and left with no breath.
And I was an Indian, and began to believe again. That I would find my twin soul, my forever companion.
Then Douglas McDanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709941464730435476noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103955.post-49573012001-08-07T08:11:00.000-07:002001-08-07T08:11:16.590-07:00Jet Girl
I look at the airplane in the sky
and think of what I see when I'm up there flying high,
looking past the cotton-colored clouds -- they're supposed to be soft
tho'
sometimes they're hard on the plane
and there's turbulence and rain.
I'm looking down on the quilts of land and lights-- electric and aquatic.
Sometimes the ground looks like it's coming apart at the seams.
That's where Douglas McDanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709941464730435476noreply@blogger.com