Urban Zen
—Poetry and Photos by Joseph Balaz, Cleveland, OH
RUST BELT BINGO
Standing downtown
looking up
at da Terminal Tower building
makes me wonder
wat I’m doing heah in da first place
but no sense backtracking on dat
cause dis is wheah fate has led me.
You are wheah you is
and you is wheah you are
simple as dat.
So now Ohio
is part of da bio
even as my island sensibilities
stay taking everyting in
examining dat unique awareness
in da complexity of itself.
Wen I stay walking dese streets
I tink of anykine stuff too
like da pierogis and kielbasa
I just had foa lunch
and how dose ono grinds
wen just broke da mouth.
Ruminating in island lingo
while living
and playing Rust Belt bingo
all da numbahs dat come up foa me
is different from anybody else
cause I fill all da squares
wit perceptive kine circles
as round as da pupils in my eyes.
It comes down to da way
I view and interpret
da new world around me.
It’s like dat classic mind exercise
dat expands your tinking—
“If a tree falls in a forest
and no one is around to hear it
does it make a sound?”
Deahfore da parallel taught—
“If I stay tinking in Pidgin
ovah heah on da continent
does da language still exist?”
As long as it’s between my ears
dose familiar words and phrases
going live everywheah.
looking up
at da Terminal Tower building
makes me wonder
wat I’m doing heah in da first place
but no sense backtracking on dat
cause dis is wheah fate has led me.
You are wheah you is
and you is wheah you are
simple as dat.
So now Ohio
is part of da bio
even as my island sensibilities
stay taking everyting in
examining dat unique awareness
in da complexity of itself.
Wen I stay walking dese streets
I tink of anykine stuff too
like da pierogis and kielbasa
I just had foa lunch
and how dose ono grinds
wen just broke da mouth.
Ruminating in island lingo
while living
and playing Rust Belt bingo
all da numbahs dat come up foa me
is different from anybody else
cause I fill all da squares
wit perceptive kine circles
as round as da pupils in my eyes.
It comes down to da way
I view and interpret
da new world around me.
It’s like dat classic mind exercise
dat expands your tinking—
“If a tree falls in a forest
and no one is around to hear it
does it make a sound?”
Deahfore da parallel taught—
“If I stay tinking in Pidgin
ovah heah on da continent
does da language still exist?”
As long as it’s between my ears
dose familiar words and phrases
going live everywheah.
* * *
ono grinds Delicious food.
broke da mouth Expression that food is very good.
Pidgin Hawai’i Creole English.
Deadly Heat
PRONTO NOW
You bettah grab da wheel
and start reversing backwards
cause da tipping point
is right around da bend.
From wun evidentiary standpoint
da projected disastrous weather
dat is beginning to arrive upon da earth
going fully use
all of dose greenhouse gases
to make everybody feel da heat.
Da petrocapitalists
are forcing your hand on da griddle
and making you sit
on da red hot coils of wun electric stove.
Moa bettah you scream
wun scream of protest
raddah den wun scream of agony.
Focus on dat corporate fat cat
continually pushing fossil fuels
wit wun big smile from ear to ear.
It’s time
to knock out some oily teeth
and let moa wind
and solar energy
flow through all da gaps.
____________________
Today’s LittleNip:
Hawaii is not a state of mind, but a state of grace.
—Paul Theroux
____________________
Welcome to the Kitchen, Joe! Joe Balaz writes in Hawaiian Islands Pidgin (Hawai’i Creole English) and American English. He is the author of Pidgin Eye, a book of poetry (www.amazon.com/Pidgin-Eye-Joe-Balaz/dp/1091108706). His art, concrete poetry, and visual poetry have appeared in numerous art and literary magazines online. Balaz presently lives in Cleveland, Ohio. Today he sends us two “synergies”, he says. Thanks, Joe—and don’t be a stranger!
Would you like to be a SnakePal? All you have to do is send poetry and/or photos and artwork to kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post work from all over the world, including
that which was previously-published. Just remember: the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—for poetry, of course!
Today’s poetry event with Traci Gourdine and Patrick Grizzell has been postponed till September 25th. Host Lara Gularte writes: “Patrick Grizzell was bitten by an angry Black Widow Spider [Friday] and received hospital treatment and medications. The good news is that Patrick was able to escape from the Spider's web and he did not become her prey. We will hear Traci and Patrick next month, but please come to an open reading [today, Saturday], same place, same time, and bring your poems, your book of poetry to read from, or a poem by your favorite poet. We will be inside Love Birds Coffee in Diamond Springs due to bad air quality.” Our thoughts are with Patrick today, and may this episode of his life pass quickly!
_______________________________
—Medusa
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