Little Red Spider

Little red spider
Just small enough to see
What is your reason
For crawling on me?

Although bigger than you
I mean you no harm
We could have been friends
But you bit my arm

Guess it's the end
Of you being real
Little red spider
Under my heel


Aaron Kokorowski, 2009

Ode to Project Stoneway

Greetings to everyone on this late Harvest Moon, thanks again for checking out my poetry blog. Over the last three and a half years my wife and I lived in an apartment on Stoneway Avenue North in Seattle, and it was there where I experienced the most prolific stretch of writing in my life. I battled my notebooks daily, building poetry into my routine with the same urgency as sleeping and eating and breathing, often writing into the wee hours of the night. I've pulled hundreds of poems from thousands of pages in my notebooks, though much of the material remains raw and unpolished. Last week we moved out of our apartment, and I am anxious to get our boxes unpacked so I can start building poetry into my new dwelling and routine. While I hope to continue to generate new material on a daily basis, much of my focus in the coming months will be on revising and compiling all of my work from Project Stoneway. Be sure and check back here each month as I will continue to share my works in progress. Oh, and enjoy this moon's poem!




The Day I Did Not Invent Walking

I put one foot in front of the other
Then repeated the process
Commonly known as walking.

Although it was rather useful,
I recalled having seeing others walking
Before me, before I had walked.

Rather dismayed by this realization
I sat on a bench and cried my eyes out.
I was not the inventor of walking,

Nor would I ever be.
If only I could invent something
So practical and efficient.

Unsure how to move on,
I put one foot in front of the other
Then repeated the process.


Aaron Kokorowski, 2009

Them Recession Blues

Wherever you are, sing this one with me.


Dear Economy

Don't you go and listen to all of that bad news
People fussing headlines around the room
Get yourself right off of that floor today
Can't be lying on the ground all day
Plenty going on that's not so down and out
Time to get some good news going round

Got to stop believing in all that bad news
Make your head spin and give you the blues
Get yourself right off of that floor today
Time to stand up and have a say
Plenty going on that's not so down and out
Let's get some good news going round

Don't you go contributing to that bad news
Everybody negative and full of gloom
Get yourself right off of that floor today
Don't let propaganda get in your way
Plenty going on that's not so down and out
People let's get some good news going round

Don't go justifying all of that bad news
All people can talk about is imminent doom
Get yourself right off of that floor today
Now is not the time to sit and wait
Plenty going on that's not so down and out
Get up and get some good news going round

Aaron Kokorowski, 2009

Uncountable Sheep

How do you fall asleep when your mind wanders late at night? Does anyone out there actually count sheep to help lull yourself to sleep? I have tried before out of desperation, though generally my experience is regular exercise is the best cure for any sleeping problems. In my college years I often experimented with drinking beers or whiskey until I fell asleep, but technically that would be considered passing out. Tell you what, if anyone out there is having trouble sleeping let me know and I'll send you some of my poetry to read. This moon's poem is in two parts, Part I being the voice of the shepherd, and Part II being the voice of the sheep. Thanks again for checking out my blog.


I. Shepherd as Insomniac

The sheep in my head
Are tired of jumping
They're hitting the fence
Their legs are crumpling

Like stumbling elephants
That ate too much hay
Those useless fence jumpers
Have too much to weigh

All over the ground
Bunched in a heap
Baaaaa someplace else
If you can't put me to sleep

A simple job
One fence to leap
Too much to ask
Of these lazy sheep

They want to retire
From jumping the fence
They want paid vacations
Per diem expense

They're counting me
Those tricky sheep
They get out of bed
And go back to sleep

Get back to work
Is what I say
Start jumping that fence
Or nobody is getting paid

Can't take this mess
I'm terribly tired
Attention sheep
You are about to get fired


II. The Sheep say Baaaaa

What's the big deal
Why must we leap?
If you are so tired
Find a new way to sleep

We jump the fence
To spin your wheels
You need sleep?
That's your deal!

We the sheep
Are tired of jumping
Working all day
For next to nothing

Why jump the fence
So you can rest
After years of fence jumping
We've nothing left

Leave us to be
Old grumpy sheep
Don't think of us
When falling asleep


Aaron Kokorowski, 2009

Poetic Madness

I had them with me. They were in a jar but the jar broke and I pulled the piece of paper out read it to myself 19 times. Some of them were rolling then but I may have lost some of the others earlier, though none of them were squares. What exactly did the piece of paper say?



The Knots in my Head

The knots in my head
Are twisted and tangled
My mind is crooked
My thoughts are mangled

Can't really remember
Which path I took
Lost my marbles
And I don't know where to look

Mostly confused
Can't make a decision
Vision is blurry
I have no precision

Find myself places
Pronouncing incoherent
Repeating phrases
Like some sort of parrot

A trespasser caught
On a rocking ship
Try to speak
Can't move my lips

Forget my words
Before I can talk
Almost as smart
As a cinder block

A concrete world
Thoughts abstract
Always against me
The deck is stacked

Straighten my mind
Measure my angles
The thoughts in my head
Must be untangled

Don't function well
Walking around
Get lost looking
For the lost and found

Always uphill
Into the wind
Weights on my feet
When I'm travelin'

Clarity sideways
Certainty lacks
Tripped and fell
Right through the cracks

Climbing trees
Upside-down
Has anyone seen
My marbles around?

A daily battle
Versus memories
Cross my I's
Dot my T's

The knots in my mind
Are twisted and tangled
They must be unwound
They must be unstrangled

Find my wheel
So I can steer
If I can't think
I'll disappear

Round and round
Makes my head spin
If I found my marbles
I'd lose them again

If I'm in style
Deranged is the trend
Baffled in a maze
Too many dead ends

Can't navigate
The day to day
Joined the discussion
With nothing to say

Twisted knots
Tangled insane
5 of 5 doctors
Agree with my claim

Mumbling sideways
Upside-down
I'm the craziest fucker
In this town


Aaron Kokorowski, 2009

New Exhibit at Local Zoo to Feature Poet

Greetings everyone, thanks once again for checking out my poetry blog. Seattle has been a paradise lately, and it has been tough to stay inside and get work done. Nonetheless the wheels of my poetry machine continue to spin. I've been writing lots of blues songs and ballads, and harvesting the stacks of notebooks that have collected on my shelves. This moon's poem was written last year and I have recently revised it. Congratulations to all the recent and soon to be graduates out there, and early congrats to all you fathers out there too. Enjoy the summer and look for new poems here each month!



Poet at the Zoo

There is a poet at the zoo
One that writes words
They've got him in a cage
Right next to the birds

Zoo tenders help him
Keep him clean
Wash his clothes
Bring his cuisine

He stays up all night
Sleeps until lunch
Takes another nap
Before evening brunch

Fascinates crowds
With words he knows
People take pictures
It's very absurd

A poet at a desk?
For this we paid a fee?
Can't he jump around,
Or climb up a tree?

He'll get angry
Curse and swear
Take you on
Double your dare

Drink down a beer
Couple shots of whiskey
Get too close
He'll get frisky

Curses onlookers
Rattles his cage
Writes a poem
Crinkles a page

Crowds laugh
Move on through
Ohhhed and Ahhhed
By a poet at the zoo


Poem by Aaron Kokorowski, 2009

An Oaf Moon Tonight

Hey everyone, time for some poetry. Big shout out to all you mothers out there, enjoy your day. This poem is a little bit longer than usual so I am going to keep my babbling short.
Enjoy


Song of the Oaf

I am a big Oaf
I like to oaf around
You will find me
Where big Oafs are found

Lurking the aisles
Clumsy as I am
People see me tripping
But they don't give a damn

They'll stick out their feet
Push me to the ground
Step on my face
As I roll around

Lollygag your days
Passing the time
Sloth is your step
Dumb is your mind
Like a laughing stock
You waddle and creep
Do yourself a favor Oaf
And get some beauty sleep!

My oafingaround
Sticks out in crowds
On the city bus
I talk too loud

Holes in my shoes
Cough when I breathe
Don't smell well
I take two seats

People watch my plight
Roll their eyes
When I trip and fall
They are not surprised

Get all choked up
Often I stumble
Try to converse
Words get bumbled

Always a strange
Look on my face
I would get last
If there was a race

I am an Oaf
I like to oaf around
People see me swimming
Hope that I drown

Hope I choke
Hope I fall
Hope my car crashes
Into a wall

So it goes
Being an Oaf
I've stopped dreaming
I've nary a hope

Let them laugh
They at me
I make simple lives
More interesting

I am a big Oaf
I like to oaf around
You will find me
Where big Oafs are found



original poetry by Aaron Kokorowski
2009