Carrie Does Poems

Carrie Jones reads her poetry every week.

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July 11, 2022 00:02:13
Imprinted

Imprinted

Imprinted The tight curls on her lover’s neck? Lord studied them. Made litanies to survive. Whitman, of course, sang of electric bodies and armies he loved, of girth. Chen Chen focused on ice cream Connoisseurs, jigglypuffys and wigglytuffs. Donika Kelly spoke of small animals Knowing thresholds of each other, meeting. Meeting at those thresholds Litanies of survival Bodies electric and connoisseurs. And me? I stare at a blank page and have no language; I stare at a blank life and wonder. We are still “imprinted with fear,” Aren’t we? Refugees of our own selves, Starving for bronze plaques and sonnets With those measured line and expected beats Telling us it is safe: it is safe, come in. Hey, thanks for listening to Carrie Does Poems. These podcasts and more writing tips are at Carrie’s website, carriejonesbooks.blog. There’s also a donation button there. Even a dollar inspires a happy dance in Carrie, so thank you for your support. The music you hear is made available through the creative commons and it’s a bit of a shortened track from the fantastic Eric Van der Westen and the track is called "A Feather" and off the album The Crown Lobster Trilogy. While Carrie only posts poems weekly here, she has them (in written form) almost every other weekday over on Medium. You should check it out! https://freemusicarchive.org/music/eric-van-der-westen/the-crown-lobster-trilogy-selection ...

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July 04, 2022 00:03:30
What Kind of Person Does That?

What Kind of Person Does That?

Hi! This year (2022), I've decided to share a poem on my blog and podcast and read it aloud. It's all a part of my quest to be brave and apparently the things that I'm scared about still include: My spoken voiceMy raw poems. Thanks for being here with me and cheering me on, and I hope that you can become braver this year, too! What kind of person does that? A person person. What kind of person does that though, really? A person. That’s not an answer. That’s a nothing answer. It’s just an answer you don’t want to hear. If you know that, why’d you say it then? I didn’t know it until I said it. That’s how life works. We don’t know things. Look, the other day, my sister told me on the phone that she shakes after she has a colonoscopy. She’s old now and she’s had three. Every time she has one, she shakes and shakes when she gets home, almost collapses into bed. She’s fine the next morning. Her daughter’s a nurse administrator, and she told her that it was the anesthesia. But I think that’s not what’s happening. What do you think is happening? I think her body is remembering things she worked hard to forget. But why do people do that? At our dad’s funeral, a man showed up, and I heard her whispering to her husband the same thing I was whispering to my daughter, which was “Oh my God, why is he here?” We were talking with the same moan about the same man. Who was he? A man. Who really was he though? All his friends called him Uncle Hal, the kiddie’s pal. And he was ...

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June 27, 2022 00:02:52
Because (a poem)

Because (a poem)

Because she’s not some drugged up doper or anything like that, but shivers have taken control of her whole entire body because it’s cold, cold, cold in Bar Harbor, Maine and it isn’t even winter yet. Because she’s huddled behind the dumpster outside of Geddy’s. There’s a giant lobster claw at the front part of the restaurant and a massive moose on top of the ceiling because that’s what gets the tourists. Fake moose. Broiled monster lobster claws, red with death and sprinkled with white Christmas lights. Because it gets to be too much, huddling there against the cold and the sun’s rising over the Porcupine Islands, so she gets up. She gets up and she heads out to the wharf where all the lobstermen tie up their skiffs, so they can get out to their moorings. The wharf’s not much of anything really, just a lot of pilings holding up a parking lot and then there’s some docks holding the skiffs. WE get Because she runs out there because sometimes no matter how cold you are, running makes you warmer.  It only works until you stop, though. When you stop running, the sweat against your skin turns you even colder. That’s why she usually don’t stop running. Because she does today. She does today because today she is cold, cold, cold all the way into her capillaries. Today she is cold, cold, cold all the way into the roots of her teeth. Because it’s not winter. Because it will only get colder. Hey, thanks for listening to Carrie Does Poems. These podcasts and more writing tips are at Carrie’s website, carriejonesbooks.blog. There’s also a donation button there. Even a dollar inspires a happy dance ...

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June 20, 2022 00:02:52
Episode Cover

Myths About Presidents

Myths About Presidents 26. He didn’t Ride A moose. The photo is fake Like a lot Of presidential things. 16. He dreamt His death, Found himself Waking in a coffin And asked who Was dead In the White House. Dream mourners said, “The president.” He denied the dream. Nobody listened. The story was too good. 9. He stood At the podium, Sworn in And speechifying For 8,445 words In the cold Of March. He died A month later Of pneumonia Linked to His pontification It was actually bad water At the White House. He’d been drinking shit. 1. His teeth were made of wood. But really they were just so old And stained they looked that way. 27. He did not get stuck in the tub and need Six men to yank and yank and yank him free. 35 He didn’t call himself A jelly donut in German. 45. His toilet Is not Gold. He is not Christ. Or Even the Opposite. 46. He is Poor. 1. He apparently Could not Tell A lie Unlike All the others Who could Not Tell The truth. Hey, thanks for listening to Carrie Does Poems. These podcasts and more writing tips are at Carrie’s website, carriejonesbooks.blog. There’s also a donation button there. Even a dollar inspires a happy dance in Carrie, so thank you for your support. The music you hear is made available through the creative commons and it’s a bit of a shortened track from the fantastic Eric Van der Westen and the track is called "A Feather" and off the album The Crown Lobster Trilogy. While Carrie only posts poems weekly here, she has them (in written form) almost every other weekday over on Medium. You should check it out! https://freemusicarchive.org/music/eric-van-der-westen/the-crown-lobster-trilogy-selection ...

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June 13, 2022 00:03:20
Twenty Years Outdated

Twenty Years Outdated

These firefighters show up at a hotel fire, maybe Started in the laundry room during the off season, hoses Frozen from winter temperatures, ice across roads; The crumbling structure is about to fall, flames shooting out windows. In our small town, three-hundred people Are listening to the scanner because we can’t be there, But our family and friends battle, wearing air Compressors and safety equipment from 2002. Twenty years outdated. Other poets write about grief and hand holding, The ache of winter trees bending with wind, Charleston’s harbor, celebrations and tiny pains. I sit here, listening, ineffective, useless. I once fought fire. Nobody believes that Though I have photographic evidence. I even Used to dispatch emergency calls, take fists to the face, Witness hate and rage that never made the scanner. Twenty years outdated. The firefighters work so hard to save that building, But the roof collapses, only the foundation remains. The thing is that building has burnt before. Twice. They keep reconstructing it though, refusing to admit defeat, Vaguely rethinking the design. After a couple months Nobody even remembers what it was before. When I was little, I used to dance, even got paid For it. Nobody believes that either. Or that I reported sports Taught gymnastics, was even a church secretary. I don’t fit Any of those notions people have of who I should be. Twenty years outdated. Sometimes we rebuild only after everything has collapsed, After burning walls fall outward to the snowy ground. Sometimes There are witnesses. Sometimes there is only lonely horror as our structures crumble. Hey, thanks for listening to Carrie Does Poems. These podcasts and more writing tips are at Carrie’s website, carriejonesbooks.blog. There’s also a donation button there. Even a dollar inspires a happy dance in Carrie, so thank you ...

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June 06, 2022 00:03:43
Holes and Vettes

Holes and Vettes

Hi! This year (2022), I've decided to share a poem on my blog and podcast and read it aloud. It's all a part of my quest to be brave and apparently the things that I'm scared about still include: My spoken voiceMy raw poems. Thanks for being here with me and cheering me on, and I hope that you can become braver this year, too! Holes and Vettes Bar Harbor. Maine. 2022. A baseball field. Corvettes line up in rows, engines still For once and owners preening From their folding chairs, legs poking Into the same grass that supports Life Flight helicopters in emergencies And soccer cleats. This earth withstands so much. It’s a yearly gathering that’s paused two years Thanks to global disease, but now the drivers Are all maskless and showing off Their cars to locals who wander Between the lines, marveling. “I will never be rich enough To own one,” says a man in a black t-shirt to a guy with a firebird red model. “I thought that too,” The guy says. “Work hard. You’ll get there.” The first man moves to run A finger across the car’s hood. The owner flinches like it’s some kind of assault. “Try hard,” he repeats. “You’ll get there." We all try hard To get there, Inventing monologues Of worth based on materialism, Who owns what, how shiny Our skins are, our hair, our cars, Houses. We pretend like any of this Fills up the holes we dig inside ourselves, Inside the ozone, inside the earth. Darkening faces, Double visions. Horror. The Vettes represent adventure And freedom. Not being beholden Despite the car loans required, The interest rates. The American Debt. “There are eight Generations of car here,” Says an organizer With a yellow sunhat Perched on ...

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