Crispy Pata

Shroomer

2009-01-31T20:23:00.001-05:00

The skinny bearded guy lying face up in my doorway calls "everything" weird once every eleven seconds.

Welcome Back

2009-01-29T12:42:00.002-05:00

I nuke two chicken patties. The ham and cheese kaiser roll warms up in the panini grill. In the dining room my homie tries to persuade his homie to sleep on the couch and to not drive home drunk. His mother has a lump on her breast. I'm the only one who hears and during our twelve second exchange I try to act like it isn't a big deal and he shouldn't be scared. You express hunger, buddy. So the three of you hydroplane down to the O for some pizza. I eat my cordon bleu sandwich in safety, wishing I would help more.

The French

2009-01-29T09:04:00.002-05:00

What sense does it make for transportation workers to strike due to economic woes? I mean, the people that ride public transport in order to get to work, shop, live, can't get there...how exactly does this help the economy?

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/7857435.stm

Previously Written: To The Stupid Kid

2009-01-26T11:03:00.002-05:00

My rediscovery of poetry a few years ago started with hip hop. What I didn't know then was that lyricists are really just poets that incorporate a lot of rhyme and rhythm into their poetry. I was very interested in battle rap, rhyming poems that share a common aim: to elevate oneself and simultaneously degrade an opponent. I used to visit online forums and post lyrics against other web emcees. We were judged by other forum goers, who were mostly Canadian underground hip hop fans. I wrote this poem to be a sample of that community. I borrow a lot here.

To the stupid kid who thought he could challenge Tabasco Velasco but had to change his boxers because I made an example of him and verbally curb stomped his British ass in front of his disappointed father and his girlfriend who played Cho Chang in the last two Harry Potter movies and probably never slept with him because the obnoxious Slug wannabe rapped worse than Kevin plays Madden
and Kevin fucking sucks at Madden

In your distress
my hormonal levers
depress, you never guessed
I’d sever your best tonal endeavors
and yes you’re pressed, pinned,
not destined to best me
I attack with cat naps and
make the kill with narcolepsy
you’re a sleeper to my Sean Nokes
snapping off the belt
if you shot a verse
with arrows and boobs
you wouldn’t be felt
you dug in real deep shit
logs hugging your kneepits
sloppy trails
reveal your copy and paste secrets
stiffened like a puppet
and I’m lifting up your strings
I could kill you in two couplets
like a zombie king

Penny Meditation

2009-01-22T10:52:00.002-05:00

I swig my coffee. The copper taste of a penny, the acid hops in my throat like a virgin at a rodeo. My mouth is stagnate.

The Chinese are ruthless

2009-01-22T10:47:00.002-05:00

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/7844274.stm

I agree that those s.o.b's deserved the death penalty, especially if they were aware of the toxins in the milk. I don't always agree with the Chinese, but on this point, I nod to them.

Sandwiches

2009-01-19T15:32:00.001-05:00

Wisdom #2 of the day: If you black out while eating sandwiches, just stop eating them. Thanks.

http://bodyodd.msnbc.msn.com/archive/2009/01/14/1745186.aspx?GT1=31037

Mac

2009-01-19T15:30:00.002-05:00

Wisdom of the day: If you are a PC user, and you generally don't have issues with PCs, don't buy a Mac. Thank you.

Garageband

2009-01-19T15:27:00.002-05:00

Oh the horror of opening GarageBand. Don't they know that keyboards don't hit symbols or tap on basses?

Head hurts

2009-01-19T15:23:00.004-05:00

I am constantly ramming
the oval that resides
above my neck
but below my soul
into a solid brick wall.

The synapse that ticks
inside of this oval
above my neck
but below my soul
has an irregular beat, now.

The neurons are unsure
where the signals should go.

Maybe they need a dispatcher
to get the message across, the gap.

If I could just throw this message
across the grand canyon...
My arm is not that strong,
and I am not the muffin man.

My head hurts.

Jessika

2009-01-19T07:50:00.000-05:00

Diyos kong syota ito

Wisdoms: God

2009-01-18T09:41:00.000-05:00

"We need to talk."

Big Spender Advertisement

2009-01-14T23:58:00.002-05:00

Black Submarines

2009-01-14T19:56:00.002-05:00

Let us wolf down shrimp linguine with squid ink
and check out the angler fish tomorrow.

Previously Written: Two Hip Hop Snobs Eat Shit

2009-01-13T06:04:00.004-05:00

This is the first of many poems I wrote featuring a character named Louis. He represents someone with whom I've been best friends since high school (I'll leave his real name a mystery). In either ninth or tenth grade I would go to his house on Fridays, play videogames and basketball and return home on Sundays, most weekends at least. Anyway, he's a man of very few words and many people find him very difficult to talk to. For this reason I find this poem, which is a paraphrased conversation, very pleasing.

Two Hip Hop Snobs Eat Shit

(Nelly is a mainstream rapper.)
(Jason Kidd plays basketball.)

Me and Louis drink Feldschlösschen at the tram stop

Nelly’s so bad
Really fuckin stupid
You remember that line?
“I’m just kidding like Jason”
“I’m just kidding like Jason!”
Hahaha
Who the fuck is Jason
He just picked a fucking name
I’m just kidding like Bob
Had to rhyme with basement
He’s all – what rhymes with basement
Random ass fucking Jason
Like we know how Jason Kidds

Our eyes meet with horror

I Just Can't Wait To Be King

2009-01-12T09:46:00.002-05:00

Why tackle me whenever you win at checkers, Nala?

Snails

2009-01-11T02:01:00.004-05:00

Yes! It's an old day and daily I skip
laps between an empty gucci coach and a. testoni - sounds like a pasta
that I don't want to eat.
But it's a new year and every week there's another
airport through which to jostle.
You could lose an arm here like revolver ocelot
or the cast of samurai candid camera. The heck is javanese?
We're stuck starving in an elevator and I got the guinsoo. Well bananas
and cherries were crowding the stairs like sea hares.
There is harm in eating
your neighbor. Let's tell her we miss her: split
seconds I have time to forget which way that son is going.

The Biggest Temple

2009-01-09T09:30:00.002-05:00

I cannot look at Buddha ruins for two hours.
Instead I will descend Buddha ruin
stairs for one
and chill with the postcard hagglers
until my hungry yawns
knock Yogyakarta into the sunrise.
The quakes will make Dad drop his camera
onto a breakfast table.

Wisdoms: Mom

2009-01-07T20:36:00.003-05:00

"When you were little you really liked chicken nuggets. I couldn't find them at the Pathmark so I asked an employee 'Where can I find chicken mcnuggets?' and he said 'Mcdonalds.' "

Soekarno Hatta International Airport Bathroom

2009-01-07T03:04:00.003-05:00

Three locals in flannel lean on urinals. They are smoking.
The middle moustached dwarf cackles something about duty free shit.
I don't look at them when I pee.

Previously Written: Kovalent

2009-01-06T08:51:00.006-05:00

I wrote this poem at the 2008 Kundiman retreat. Poetry seems to flow so freely out of you when you're there. Maybe it's the atmosphere. I only know that what little shell guards me was broken for four days.

Kovalent

We're content as sloths. Six species with tummies full of symbiotes, digesting leaves over a month, and we have chemistry
with Mr. Hacker next period. He chases us with boredom, tunnels suck in our eyes over and over throwing our heads balance on drooly palms. I beseech to bathroom but Hacker has elephantitis, "Peps, you pooped last month," no, then I played with my turmoil, he prefers us asleep, when it’s his turn to duty. Smad turkey. He admits thanksgiving dinner aftermath* to our nostrils and we all prostrate. Hacker douses us with Watsons iso tone and his arms and legs champagne, his head sinks into his ribs, his torso poles us into place. Silently the silence comes – is it the end of our world? We are one, we are a robot, a vigilante vindicating through Hackzor’s monocle of justice, dynamiting Mrs. Apted and her physics class strumming gravikords and vacuuming skunks while the thigh magenta grows, grows, then, a comeback, an up smash, an of the fallen living dead sith pink panther nerds*, we see dead people, which limb pointed out the closet empty of economics and theory of knowledge? Love polypeptides yourself because the time is now. Veal patties; they ain’t got dodgeballs on us and we got four more toes.

*Not yet a Cold Stone Creamery flavor

These are some of my favorite lines from songs:

2009-01-04T20:58:00.002-05:00

{Credit to No Doubt}

It's too bad, you're so sad, wish you could have had what I had. And its so sad, its too bad, maybe I could make you feel better. Maybe I'm supposed to make you feel better.

I'm like you, I had it easy, You're dark blue, stained from previous days.

I sip on dreams and choke on real things.

I concentrate on empty spaces, A passive pondering of blankness, Sit down shut up, controlled obsessions.

Am I wasting all of your time, And all my cute days on regret?

Damsel in distress is quite submissive, Look how sun burnt my vanity is.

If we both want the love and I want long enough, Then the ground that we're on might be common.

If you bore me then I'm comfortable, If you interest me I'm scared.

Like a fresh battery, I'm energized by you.

I'm sorry, you've had some scarey days.

Frustrate

2009-01-04T19:37:00.004-05:00

"Don't worry!" said the astronaut, "it's not my juice.
Maybe yours." She harnessed the crown
and balanced on the moon.
"I'm Lucky, and I'm home." It's an advantage
like putting sugar in spaghetti.
However, notice the way the clouds stalk around her temples,
bouncing hotly with charisma and youth.
Lucky gasped at them, "This isn't Hong Kong," she gritted.
The astronaut came alone on the moon.

Stuff Toy

2009-01-02T21:01:00.001-05:00

I don't care
if you're a teddy bear
with one eye,
don't you dare
wink at me.

Happy New Year!

2009-01-01T19:09:00.006-05:00

I hope I'll be as happy as I was in this picture forever.

New Year's Eve Like You're A 22 Year Old Expat All Over Again

2009-01-01T07:57:00.004-05:00

I switch the channel to Animal Planet. Two sea lions kiss noisily. Fireworks whistle out the window behind them. Channel up: Meg Ryan makes out with less pretty guy. Internet pic of the minute: "I love my wife" tee on Portia de Rossi next to Ellen DeG grinning. The 10 Hottest Videos of Girls Kissing. Mom and dad treat Ninang Dolly and her baby's daddy to raisin bread, foie gras and cheeses. I'm not drunk. Aint there someone I could be getting drunk with? Cupcake on discrete webcam at work. I found my New Year's kiss. The screen can only kiss back in spirit. It will do. Dad finally opens the last present. "Mike sent me Sex and The City the movie. Want to watch it?"

Fruits Awaken

2009-01-01T07:50:00.005-05:00

Bananas in pajamas: they're coming down the stairs.
Bananas in pajamas: they're gay.

Excerpts from a 25th Wedding Anniversary Speech

2008-12-30T19:41:00.003-05:00

Isn't this fun?
...
Mom and dad, being on your twenty fifth anniversary you must have been married a very long time. At least twenty years. Precisely somewhere between twenty and thirty years. That's older than I am! Probably.
...
Amazing. A-mazing.
...
Mom and dad, your dedication to each other gives me the courage to let myself invest myself emotionally in women. Specific women. I'm confident that I will maintain successful relationships in all my future marriages.
...
Mom and dad, you are singular to me. I email you both at the same time and when I say mom and dad I don't address each of you individually, but the two of you as an entity.
...
Hello Ja ja!
...
I know you wanted to have two beautiful baby daughters, but I assure you if I were born a girl I'd have had a sex change by now.
...
Mom and dad, thank you for loving each other and loving me and Mike. It let us not worry about family stuff so we could develop freely into super kick ass awesome dudes like us.
...
Guys, I love you.

How Visiting Your Family Warps Your Brain

2008-12-30T14:24:00.000-05:00

From: Jennifer Viegas, Discovery News

Dec. 29, 2008 -- Visiting -- or even just viewing photos of family members -- prompts brain activity that affects how you feel about them, your friends, and even yourself, a new study suggests.
The study is the first to compare brain activity associated with seeing relatives with that linked to seeing friends and strangers. It suggests our feelings about biological relatives are at least somewhat primal.
The findings may help explain everything from why our family can get on our nerves to why people who look like us can spark immediate feelings of trust, "but not lust," said Steven Platek, who co-authored the study with Shelly Kemp.
"We like to be around people that look more like us, but we do not find them as sexually attractive," added Platek, editor-in-chief of the journal Frontiers in Evolutionary Neuroscience. "I think it is linked to our subconscious ability to detect facial resemblances so we avoid lusting after those that may be related to us."

Previously Written: A Violent Welcome

2008-12-30T10:04:00.004-05:00

I have wonderful news, my takaw peoples. I was so impressed with a certain Jessika Aldridge's ability to create beautiful images with an effortless flow, and so touched by her work, which is packed full of emotion without becoming melodramatic, that I asked her if she would be interested in becoming a full time Crispy Pata author. It turns out she was just as excited with the thought as I was!

To celebrate, this week's edition of Previously Written features a collaberation between Jessika and I. About a year ago, we were reading a lot of Sean Thomas Dougherty. This poem is a cover of one of his that we worked on together.

Piano Violence

Can you break the keys
over her head in a rhythm?
To plink a tune like a monkey on a
coconut hanging in a window at
Barneys in New York City, with eyes
drooping like an elephants breasts
shortly after birth. Yes, I see sea foam
turn into diamonds off the coast of
Florida on a wintry morning, while shellfish
make love in the garbage.
Sailors poke their Linuses in the sails of the
ship and I wonder if they’ve ever eaten
crabs from the caves in France.
A dessert from the diner just outside of
San Antonio reminds me of bananas shucked from
beaten up pick up trucks by Canadians with
headbands. Frilly dresses of purple and yellow dance
while ukeleles play from a rooftop and
dogs lap at water dripping from a holey anaconda
consuming a fat woman.
You are a prisoner on death row, waiting for burnt
biscuits and sea fairing winds. Alcatraz mothers
you, and I try desperately to gather the sandpipers at
my feet. Your ship stinks off the coast of
Bombay; the cargo on board smells like tea bags and olives.
I give my last toothpick to an old man in a
mall, in Manila, and a little girl asks for a red fox in
sheeps underwear. I reply that foxes only live
in coral reefs and I have never ventured to Sydney.
I stroll to a bend in the road, and fight the
people who ate bread off a plate, plain and dry,
like a piece of sandpaper on my tongue.
I take the left side of the road, because that’s what side
the trees lean to, and I find a factory run by
the Holy Ghost and Mo Rocca. They specialize
in plastic chimneys and air fresheners that only work
next to mirrors in old buicks. I ask them for a flavor of
birch tree and rye, and they tell me that they haven’t
made that since you left for good. See, this is why I need the
phonecall. You were the only one that could keep
the house from rolling onto mice and men.
And when you pick up, you say to me
She is a little girl eating violins.

Outgrowing the band

2008-12-30T09:31:00.001-05:00

Do re mi fa so la la la lalalalala

Man carrying over $70 chooses jail over $1.57 soda

2008-12-29T15:57:00.002-05:00

Wonder how he felt when he sobered up?

EAU CLAIRE, Wis. – Eau Claire police said a man accused of stealing a soda worth $1.57 chose to go to jail rather than pay up, even though he was carrying more than $70. Police responding to the report of a theft recently say the 27-year-old man appeared drunk. An employee told officers the man had taken a cup from the counter, filled it and began drinking.
When employees told him he had to pay for the drink or leave, the man refused to do either.
A police officer told the man he could pay $1.57 or go to jail, and the man chose jail. The officer handcuffed and searched him, finding the money in his pocket.
The man was issued an ordinance citation for retail theft.

10 Things Women Do That Annoy Men

2008-12-29T13:54:00.001-05:00

From iVillage.com

BTW: This is the most generic list I have ever read. Do men really feel like this?

10. Pretend To Be Virtuous <----What does that mean?
9. Criticize Other Women <---- Ok, I'll give you that one
8. Act Jealous
7. Become Needy <--- I want to know how someone "becomes" needy
6. Speak In Code with phrases like “What are you thinking”
5. Invade Our Personal Space & Groom Us
4. Become Too Emotional
3. Spend Too Much Time Shopping <---I'd say this is more rare than people think
2. Talk Non-Stop, Men Don’t Want All The Details
1. Use Sex As Weapon <----Does this mean, withholding?

Antelope

2008-12-28T20:09:00.003-05:00

She won’t understand these words Her ears are those of husks and caves with no
Echo
Her eyes are oysters hiding pearls of tears Her nerves are winged black birds
Echo
Her heart is the thump underneath my feet Her fingers twist my words into an
Echo
Her voice is the rising sun Hot with memories and feelings of him

And yet

I need for her to listen To the running antelope inside of me
Echo
I need for her to hug me To take what I say and drink it silently
Echo
I need for her to speak like I am someone A person who is not always going to
Echo

Her past.

Darwin 2

2008-12-27T19:20:00.002-05:00

Gandalf staggered and fell, grasped vainly at the stone, and slid into the abyss. 'Fly, you fools! ' he cried, and was gone. Aragorn clutched the shrieking Dodo to his chest and dragged him out the cave whilst Legolas snootily whipped his hair back several times.

Ode to Foie Gras

2008-12-26T09:20:00.004-05:00

I hope
that when my enzymes puncture
your membrane it splatters
like stomping a juicebox
of multipurpose plasma.
I sincerely wish
for each of your molecules to burst
like the spine
of a wooden angel
against my knee.
Our first showdown
I did not puke
you out because I was sure
the squeaky Samoyed
on the couch was gonna lap
up my vomit
and throw you up
with equal zeal.
Friday night after Saturday night
of teenage binge drinking Rosie dragged
me ninety minutes
on that last yellow tram
into France
and down two hills
three farms
a trillion cobblestones
and past an autistic kangaroo
so we could lean
across the tiny marble island
in her kitchen
and eat you.
Gradually my tongue
realized that piping
corn down a frightened duck's
throat until its stomach exploded
and then extracting
and frying its liver
granted it nothing
less than a victory of flavor.
Today if I were to return to school,
rather than eat valu time
whipped cream
off a stripper's pubis
while she did a natural light
keg stand I would force
my friends to sit
in a dorm room
play darts
listen to jazz
drink cheap champagne
and eat you
like a classier insecure freshman.
I drip
funky church water
on myself just to pray
that next time we dine
your full body
is kebabed
on my cupcake's nipple
and continues to synthesize
glucose produce
albumin and break down
hemoglobin in a delicious
hepatocytic free for all
that makes the sheep
proud on doomsday.

Wisdoms: The Philippine Inquirer

2008-12-25T02:19:00.001-05:00

"The top 5 foods Filipinos look forward to for Christmas are:

1. Lechon (Suckling Pig)
2. Fruit and Macaroni Salad
3. Spaghetti
4. Ham
5. Queso de Bola (Dutch Edam Cheese)"

Playing Drunken Poker on Christmas Eve

2008-12-24T20:02:00.002-05:00

Baby cousins kneel entranced by pikachu directing other fuzzy lethal creatures to decorate a redwood in Antarctica twenty feet away from this gambling vortex of menthol smoke.

Previously Written: Super Haiku Experiment

2008-12-24T01:42:00.000-05:00

These are six of my first ten poems, not including "Ode to a Hole" and "Ode to Drawing", both of which I wrote when I was nine. I don't remember how those two poems went but looking back at it now I think I was better at naming poems before I hit double digits.

Super Haiku Experiment

Lioness

Predator princess
peripherally predicts
Pepe’s pregunta

Predator princess
Learns from mama to pounce first
Ask questions later

Pounce first, ask questions
later. Why you ask? Because
Mufasa said so.

I like this better

Ghazal ribs implode
from the gravity bomb or
haiku’s fluffy paw

Ghazal ribs cave in
from the wrecking ball that is
haiku’s fluffy paw

The Chase

Spotted hunger sprints
sixty five miles per hour
Run motherfucker!

Barry Bonds's Secret Admirer

2008-12-23T19:14:00.001-05:00

I love you with all my balls.

Holy Place

2008-12-23T19:01:00.000-05:00

Do not drink the water. It makes you pope.

I'm Not The Author: How to Eat Golden Cows by Jessika Aldridge

2008-12-22T22:05:00.000-05:00

Jessika Aldridge is an exceptionally gifted poet, a beautiful woman and a wonderful person. When she isn't writing kick ass poems she is working two jobs to support her family and going to body pump class to keep her shape hawt.

How to eat golden cows
by Jessika Aldridge

Your skin
Desired look: underside of your husbands balls:
Simply squish cherries between your fingers,
Paint your eyesockets,
Exfoliate with the dirt inside your stomach.

Your toes
Desired look: little peach carrots on the end of your foot:
Do fifty kegels every ten minutes
With your peace sign in the air,
And your bra smothered in tomato sauce.

Your nails
Desired look: shiny coins baking in an oven:
Carefully tie a red ribbon around your neck
With your tongue thrusting on the roof of your mouth,
Gently tug on your clitoris until
You can barely see it.

I have cleaned my teeth with the steams of
Underwater trees and I have brushed my hair
With the hands of dead grandfathers;
Why must I now rub my intestine with
Rhine of orange just to be considered?

Ilocos Norte

2008-12-22T21:50:00.000-05:00

sounds like bampire.
Lola heps heps in the van.
Ipis and butiki fight over my dandruff.
Stupid van bounces along so long we roll backwards
like iron plates loving deep fried pork belly
bagnet magnets and macabre Marcos tombs
spotlit in black dimensions and pre prerecorded anthems.

May the light shine upon you too, jeproks!
say dad’s actually rather wholesome flickr clique aware
of uploads proportional to lola heps heps in the van.

We revisit church no. 3 when the lighting is better
and truck no. 6 when the church isn’t in the way.
Museum no. 4 the sixty year old toothless guide
in a wifebeater and John Stockton shorts
is hella dal dal and fetches
me when I wander away from his lecture.
Museums no. 1-9 are people’s old houses.
Lola heps heps in the van.

Rustic and tropic, we sleep eat and tour
walang working faucets walang yellow walang bedsprings.
Tabo showers. The whole beach has wireless.
Lola heps heps in the van.

Wisdoms: Bei Dao

2008-12-22T06:50:00.001-05:00

"Give your poems gravity."

Previously Written: Adventure

2008-12-22T06:21:00.000-05:00

This is a poem I wrote about Magellan. I was reading a lot of Natasha Trethewey at the time, but I don't know if that shows.

Adventure

Explorer of the world, Magellan sailed
his Victoria across the planet’s everywhere,

Rabban beard crisp from the absorption
of salt water. Seeking a path to

the spice islands of Indonesia,
he camped in a smaller archipelago,

of only seven thousand islands. Drunk,
Spain’s adopted son declared the Sugboanons

servants of God and Spain, worse,
pronounced the people of Mactan enemies

of the Church. Ferdinand began his crusade
two weeks later, exacting holy terror

shaped as axes, swords, crossbows, guns
and cannons – all the marshmallows in

16th century lucky charms: Catholic edition.
Boats and artillery left behind

because of rocky waters, Magellan and his top
fifty favorite Spaniards stormed the Mactan

beach to find one thousand five hundred
infidels chilling, their kampilan, spears and poison

arrows rising slowly before they burned
down the wind, suffocating the Westerners

with a rice and fish diet
and a grand putang ina mo.

Filipinos always had great appetites.
Chieftain Lapu-Lapu, ever the hero,

chased Magellan back into the water,
the only thing to love him back.

When Lapu-Lapu impaled
the first man to cross the globe,

he jammed his spear into the sand,
so the explorer would drown

before he bled to death. Five hundred
years previous, those islanders, who slaughtered

the great Ferdinand Magellan,
rode boats of their own to

Madagascar and South America, while
Spain bribed the ruling Moors

with a flat-rate supply of virgins
to postpone the Muslim invasion.

It took half a millennium for someone else to figure out the Pacific.

Darwin

2008-12-22T05:54:00.001-05:00

Yo saber tooth cat
I tell you don't do you do look at

Jazz

2008-12-21T05:22:00.001-05:00

"Tigers are so BADASS," she marveled,
"if I were an animal I would fuck one, no question."
The two half tons of feline muscle glanced at her
before they returned to pacing
and licking their chops at the baby goat
next-cage neighbors.

"If you were a tiger--"
"If I was any animal at all."
"People are--"
"If I was a chimp. Or a magic carpet."
"That's some Aladdin shit."
"I know RIGHT!?"

#3

2008-12-21T05:16:00.000-05:00

Hello my lovelies. I am Pepe and this will be my third attempt at blogging.

This time I will be better because I cannot escape poetry. Is it because poetry is my escape?

Peps