If My Head Is Down, Do Not Be Afraid, For My Mouth Is Smiling Where It Is

Jennifer Page Algieri

Obligatory IntroductionI have too much spare time, and simultaneously not enough and zero ability to actually come up with

comprehensive titles. At work, in school, during times I should be doing other tasks and activities I find myself jotting down bizarre snippets of nothingness. Then titles must be assigned, and that mess is dealt with on the spot with much thought and deliberation all the while I know it will never be the title the poem deserves to have. Never have I seen a more disorganized, organized mess of attempted flatter and finery than my poetry. It reminds me why we are clear when we speak, because goodness it is exhausting trying to be lovely. But here all of this kerfuffle resides anyway, a predicament of exasperating poems that connect in the bizarrest of ways with their excessive language and poor attempts at being symbolic and bits of fragments I adored but couldn’t let go of. Regardless, I fell in love with my darlings, and had to kill them one by one to present to you, returning, for the very first time, by popular demand, a collection of poems dedicated to the spare time I should have used wiser depicting the way I think versus they way I speak versus they way I write, and all they’re glorious conflicts of behaviour.

Ode To The Hardships We Had To Invent For Ourselves

Stupid breeds stupid

Carelessness breeds recklessness

Eat four saltines in a minute

Glorious!

Love it!

Tried it

Failed

Those who never failed

Never did anything stupid

Still phenomenal

It was a cracker

And It rose to something more

How powerful our food becomes

When we have an abundance of it.

Swallow a spoonful of cinnamon

Ridiculous!

Impossible!

Did it anyway

Failed again

No one succeeded

But we tried anyway

The glory of a challenge

You challenged us

Risking our lives

For glory

For Saltines

And Cinnamon

Because you could never be boring

Cheers to the stupid

And the reckless

And the pointless

And the bold

Props to you

For becoming a trending tag

The respect I uphold

For crackers and spice

Is not something to shame

But something to marvel at

No one remembers me

The way they

Will remember you.

Kill Your Darlings or Convince Them To Kill Themselves

I fell in love with an idea

Foolish and weary

Wandering between reality

The idea of a something

Of a maybe

Of an almost

Of a could have been

Words tear through pages

Because they just don’t fit

Characters bleed through the paper

And become blotches

Of nothing

Of very nearly

But not quite

Sentences that were fragments

Word that were wrong

Characters that were static

Ideas I fell in love with

And could not let go of

My darlings,

How can I kill you?

No parent is pure

Who murders her children

But let you live?

No, no

Not that

My relatively’s

My roughly’s

My just about’s

Tarry onward towards answers

And the promise that all will turn out right

If I keep going forward

And forget to look back

My darlings

My darlings

My darlings

We go forward

But I shall not

I cannot let you die

You were mine to protect

So swallow pride and integrity

Down with regulations and opinions

I shall reside with you

My imperfect perhaps.

Quel Suprise Candy Land IThe drops paved the

path that we followed and lined

the walls of the

bridge in place of the usual

stones. A person behind us

called out to us claiming

the pass was reserved only

for those who landed

exactly on purple. Of course

we didn’t listen

and only ran faster

ahead, only to get

Stuck in the melted mess

of the gumdrop gluck

to wait until we could

pull ourselves free.

The story begins

At the edge of the wood

Where the Gingerbread Plum Trees

Grow. We started the journey

On rainbow steps

Through the pleasant oaks iced

with soft vanilla cream

that gave them the faces

with smiles they shared.

In that woodland of plenty

We crept on our way

‘til the woods turned sweet

and the air filled with

a peppermint scent.

The Candy Cane Forest we

came upon next and

were offered two peppermint sticks

to enjoy on our trip

to the throne of the Candy Land King.

We crunched through snow, more sugar

than ice, and proceeded

on our merry way.

The sticky surface

of the ground began

clutching our shoes as we moved ourselves past

the Gumdrop Pass.

The gooey sensation

stuck to our soles

with a temperate sun on

the jelly like buttons.

Released at last

we could continue forth

between licorice sticks woven

up to the sky. Lord Licorice’s

Castle the dreadful abode,

sat squat in the dreariness

of the dessert desert dunes

A place no one traveled

and no one returned.

But look, there are nuts

growing on stems

and a house, quite content

made of Peanut Brittle sits

comfortable in the mist

of a peanut butter fog.

Quel Suprise Candy Land IIAvoiding the squirrels,

and the chatty Grandma Nut

we scampered forth

to the Lollypop Woods

where all will get lost

regardless of directions

or maps. So lost we did get

for some moments or so, before

finding the right way to go.

The lollypop flowers

were perfect for picking

and eating especially of course.

But we couldn’t fill up

for the best was yet to arrive.

Trotting through green fields

and colourful candies,

all of which we should have liked to try,

the air got much colder

and the winds grew much bolder

to reveal the Ice Cream Sea!

Behold! So majestic!

We paused for much longer

and skated across a frozen lagoon

where Ice Cream Snowmen waved

and rivers of soda accompanied

us as we shivered,

but still ate more.

Amidst brain freeze that warned us

not to over-eat sweets

we carried on

on our much warmer way.

The castle was distant,

but its outline appeared

yet the faster we ran

the less is came near

for the pathway was then blocked

by a Molasses Moat

whose fudgesicle bars

were only mal-par.

We got stuck only once

and were out in a pinch

before racing ahead to the gates

only to find

we had drawn the last card

which portrayed a picture of

Gingerbread Trees.

We groaned and we sighed

we had come of so close

but the card had been chosen,

so we had to obey

and were sent right in reverse

on our less merry way

to return to the start of the game.

Sobbing Uncontrollably While The Other

Thinks Uncharitable Things

Suck it.Suck on it.Deal with all this.Shut up and suck it.Absolute trash and universal swine.Suck it.

Lament of a LifeguardSwim moms

Carry verbal baggage

To dump on anyone

Who Listens

Richer than sin

She says too loud

“Her son

Can’t even float”

Clacking on phones

And laptops

On bleachers in hot discussion

“Young people these days, AmIRight?”

Pool water

Lapping the edges

“I was training as an Olympian

When I was her age.”

Equipment slaps the side

Children scream

Loudly

To no one in particular

“One, two three

Eyes on Me!”

“One Two

Eyes on You!”

Unshaken

In watches

Worth more

Then I am

Over the shoulder

Back-talk to coaches

“I just think my way

Is better.”

Sure of themselves

They gossip as loud as possible

Secrets are only fun

For sharing

Jumping off platforms

Parents film children

Their obligations

Fulfilled

“Isn’t J.T.’s dive

Getting so very nice.”

“And she tried to tell me

What he can or can’t eat.”

Leaving with comments

Among one another

“That lifeguard,

She must be so bored.”

For Tomorrows CrowdFear.

Love.Hate.

Joy.Power.

Respect.Saw something.

Said nothing.Drank to forget.

Poke a hole in the sky.Weep ‘til the leaves fall off.

Dream of tomorrow and mourn yesterday.Mourn tomorrow and dream of yesterday.

Change the tone.The mood.

Scream.Louder.

Irritation is the enemy.Shatter.

Feel a word with your soul.Nothing hurts like a word.

Crinkle the page of a legacy.Burn bridges.

Flames lick flesh the way fear clings to hope.Cry.

Tomorrow won’t be better.But yesterday was worse.

Hurt.Feel.

Die.Live.

Four Minutes For Four HoursTo all my friends

who wished to be born in the 50’sWelcomeThe 50’sand 60’s

Seal of Approvalstick to the side

of the statesLiving in

The Banned Editionrendition

of a real life novelThe Value of Ego

ergoexists not far behindelitists and Enemies

elevated Inside and Out

A lot of badis going to happen

in thisTricky Balancing Act

A nation dividedis still standingVictim’s faces

Facing the Camerafor scrutiny

Black – ThugMuslim – Terrorist

White – He’s just sickRight?White

and light skinneddon’t commit crimes

They can’t

between controlling the congressand ruling the roadsThe Last Politicians

urge for peacewhen police

line the streetHalf a million’s a lot of money

for murderFour Minutes

For Mike Brown

Words Do Fail Me

Disgust me

Exhaust that expression

like Shakespeare with rhythm

Wear me thin with ridicule,

slam me dry of colours.

I have romanced the prose

out of the poems

someone loved.

So shame me for my sins

shower me in flowers of

hate and contempt.

The light of your life

disappeared when I stole

the sun,

so punish me.

I destroyed the beautiful

secrets of life

Share with me your story

of detest.

21 deceptions of clairvoyant

distaste

shall follow me to the past

Stained Glass Houses Throwing RocksI am glass

Stained windows cascaded in colour which tells a story to the eyes

Time, energy, and influence sculpted me into this creation

Dazzling and peaceful

Triumphantly trumpeting the glory of the story I am telling

I break under a crushing hurricane

Shatter under adversary

Tremble in war

As floods and rockets send me tumbling to the ground

Fragmented and useless

Closing in on those who worship, I lock them in and dowse them in light

Luminescent and forgiving.

Sin does not perturb the sanctuary so long as I stand

Towering over those of holier stature than I

Blood and sweat

Fire and heat

Smelting, blowing, melting, shaping

At last perfection

Dominating the room, eyes wander to my place of grace

Questions, or answers, each viewer gives more to me than I started with

Sunshine permeates through my translucent skin

Covering those eyes in bliss described only in shades of red

Or hues of blue

An image tells the story of a thought

There is not truth in imagery

Only a vision

Here and gone

Lost forever, until discovery, in sharp glass shards

Because Heroin Dealer Sounds Classier Than Crack Addict

I can see the future.

I read it as the stone is carved.

Granite and sediment are chiseled and crafted

Depicting the world as it will become

Every action creates a new reaction

The past dictates the present

The present determines the future

Change is rudimentary

Static behavior is safe

Nothing creates nothing

I can see the future

Fear no more

The granite chisels are weak

We were content with nothing

So that’s all that’s left: for now, forever, for always

Molten LoveLike the thick richness of marshmallow fluff

The honeydew son of perfection arrives

And a sugar sweet smile was simple enough

To melt me like butter and feel more alive

The glow of a dimple on one cherry cheek

The pureness of eyes, candy crystal in hew

Vanilla introversion keeps me meek

Stuck silent, in place, in peanut butter glue

Confectionary affection is shown to all

Anticipation builds like soda pop

Cinnamon dusted hair sifting through the hall

Music crescendos, strawberry blushing must stop

A rich chocolate voice compelling conversation

Me stuck speaking backwards with bubblegum frustration