Thursday, December 23, 2010

Two goats that nearly drowned in Tucumcari, N.M. (see NOAH poem below)

NOAH

the rain came
thick in tucumcari – it
tried its wet best to
drown both my goats one
stood
atop the
other – smashed her
bony back down in the
muddy flood – the bottom
goat bobbled her frail
back gave way her head
dipped quick below
the surface -- we rescued
the two to the laundryroom –
where both promptly peed
on the floor – the
perfume of ammonia
seeped deep beneath
linoleum as they
pawed hooves all over
white walls – bit a big
hole in the flimsy tin
dryer hose.

-Ryn Gargulinski.12.23.10

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Winter in Arizona

SKATING A GLACIER

when I write I
tend to skate the
surface – I tell you
a story I even make
it fancy give you
axels, double-axels,
plié – but I fear to
scrape beneath the
glacier – it’s been
years in formation to
freeze out emotion who
knows what doth really
lurk beneath – if I poke
at such a carcass it may
unleash thick maggots or
perhaps it’s more like a
cocoon – where inside
dwells a
butterfly.

-Ryn Gargulinski.12.16.10

Sunday, December 05, 2010

Watch dog

ODE TO ALL THE ARTISTS

You will not –

hold me
down, mr.
man will not
shave off my eyebrows or
yank out my teeth or rip lashes
from my lids or chop limbs at my
knees you will not – you

cannot –
reduce me.

You cannot --
quash

my flame, mr.
man cannot piss
on my bonfire hurl
water on my torch snuff the
innate hot blaze that long makes
my skin scorch cannot hush that

spicy sizzle

in my soul – that
consumes me with
the need to
create.

-Ryn Gargulinski.12.05.10

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Five ways of looking at a tarantula hawk wasp





INSECT CHINESE WATER TORTURE

bugs are
smarter than
we think they know
exactly where
our eardrum is just as
we fall asleep they know
to bite the crappy
itchy spots behind our
back and knees they
know to fly through the
one single wound that
gapes in the bent-up and
dog-injured screen they know to
land so promptly at dinner atop –
a mound of pure white
cottage cheese.

-Ryn Gargulinski.10.31.10

Saturday, August 07, 2010

Sawyer's nose knows


read sawyer's blog at TucsonCitizen.com/sawyer

NOSES

deviated
septum turned
up like a ski slope
punched flat on a boxer
too big for your glasses too
small for your face there is so
much – that can go wrong – with
noses.

-Ryn Gargulinski.2010
see more ryn poetry at ryngargulinski.com

One big bug


PAYCHECK

I am a bug
on my back that
struggles to flip a
scarab in a sand dune that
june bug on my porch – I struggle
and wiggle to make ends meet – yet
my legs still wave fruitless in the air – when
I am finally able to flip myself upright and
breathe for a moment a fresh gasp of air –
a dog paw squarely blasts me down flat.

-Ryn Gargulinski.2010
see more ryn poetry at ryngargulinski.com

Sweet ghoulish chile

GHOULS

we wondered if
the child knew he
looked like a ghoul as he
sat on the bleachers at
pinnacle peak while a wild
west with slapstick thrilled the
audience – with gunshots and
a barrel that leaked. we learned
later the kid was with a
whole ghoulish trope who
dropped by in a hearse to
sell their parties – (yet) that
did not stop the
audience from
staring – or whispered
titters pointed fingers at the
child – glaring flashbacks of
me in first grade.

-ryngargulinski.2010

Saturday, July 03, 2010

Fluff (aka clouds)

FLUFF

by Ryn Gargulinski

fluff
can be
cushy sweet
plushy cute like
something
you
pack
in your
pillow that –

soft stuff
that cradles
your head but –

fluff
can be

nasty
harsh
abrasive
gruff as the

term used to
criticize your writing or –

the curt cold so
loathsome response when
you open up and
disclose your
dreams.

Andrew's cat Rosie - goes with his FLUFF poem

FLUFF

by Andrew Ulanowski

My cat Rosie
is so skinny
and frail
that I am
quite sure
she is made from
fluff
and
popsicle sticks.

Lazlo the lizard dance



See more photos, art and Ryn writing at ryngargulinski.com and tucsoncitizen.com/rynski

BETRAYAL POEMS: BETRAYAL and LET DOWN

BETRAYAL
by Ryn Gargulinski

they may have thought
we would take them on a
bicycle ride a trek to the
circus a zip to the zoo but instead

we put them in an ice cube tray – each
bald baby mouse in its own
little cube – each parent, dismayed where

their babies went – atop lean cuisine
pizza beside smashed frozen peas – the
next morning we pulled

out the ice cube tray – found several cubes
empty as a number had crawled – to a lumpy
pinkie clump in one cube – a huddle that had hoped to

stay warm – one frozen mid-crawl on
the lip – his paw grasping at the
the cold freezer
sky.

Poem in honor of pinkies we wrenched away from pet mice to feed lizard Lazlo
___

LET DOWN
by Andrew Ulanowski

Betrayal is having
the person
you have fallen
in love with
ask you to review
their ad on Match.com

Shoe shots and feet




TWO SHOE POEMS: MINOR and SHOES

MINOR
by Ryn Gargulinski

we remember
things that hurt like
our first broken heart long
lost pets who up
and died the
friend who gave a
gift and then
took it right back – she would

rather gift the gift now to
Shannon, she
said – the chipped

tooth on the
water pump the
Hubba Bubba in
the hair – the

snowball
in the back at the
bus stop – that hurt
less than its
derisions and
snarls -- or the size

four antique
buckle shoes – I
crammed on my
teen feet’s
size eight.

____

SHOES
by Andrew Ulanowski

Shoes, shoes, the musical fruit
They kill my feet but they’re SO CUTE!

I’m supposed to be writing this STUPID poem about shoes,
but, I’ve decided that I’m going to protest the fact that
while shoes come in many assortments of
size, color, material, style, etc.
Seems someone forgot a very important category indeed . . .
flavor!
With that said, I vow from now on only to wear banana leaves
on my feet, held on by some string or perhaps some old bungie chord,
shunning shoe-dom until justice (and tasty shoes) have been served.

Saturday, May 01, 2010

HAIKU: ONE DAY

one day everyone
will wake up happy and they
won’t know what to do.

-Ryn Gargulinski.05.01.10


Illustration from Ryn Gargulinski's book BONY YOGA

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Smashed bee could bee a hummingbird (see poem below)

MISTAKEN IDENTITY

hummingbird hatchlings are the
size of a bumblebee what this
could mean is beginning to
trouble me – how many are
smashed in a mean, panicked
streak by folks who see a
stinger that is really just a
beak.

-Ryn Gargulinski.04.18.10

Friday, April 09, 2010

Seven deadly sins, rat style








DEADLY SINS

A poem in seven parts

i

wrath will
always fascinate me it’s so
easy to feed just
start with a seed then
watch it sprout fester and
bloom until you
blow up an orphanage

ii

lust brings skank
prostitutes to mind – and
itchy red bumps to your
crotch

iii

gluttony the void
that can never be
sated I found 22
packets of nuts when i
cleaned out my
desk

iv

greed makes me
think of daffy
duck when he
finds mounds of
treasure then gets
trapped in the cave to
starve
rot and
otherwise
die – surrounded
by diamonds

v

sloth has
two toes but
no motivation he’s the
reason we have dents in
our couch and that thing
called TV

vi

pride pumps
our heads like
balloons – that get
popped with a prick
from reality

vii

fear dances in our
bladders twists
knots in our
stomachs is the
glob that
gives rise to the
other six sins.

-Ryn Gargulinski.04.09.10

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Smiling while falling - Two Grand Canyon poems below

DEATH IN THE GRAND CANYON

By Ryn Gargulinski

this one was frozen in a gully
this one had tumbled from the
brink – that one was found
near his water face down as
some voices told him not to drink

this one was swept in a
flash flood – this one was
blanched by the sun – that one
went far in his very fast car that
had sped to its very last run

this one was drowned in the
river – this one was crushed
by big stones -- that one don’t
know how he happened to go
all that’s left is a pile of bones

this one was posing for a
photo – this one veered way
off his course -- and that
one was shoved by a
husband out of love as it’s
cheaper than
getting a
divorce.

See more Ryn writing and art at RynRules.com and Rynski.Etsy.com.

Check out her blogs at TucsonCitizen.com

Muerte en el Gran Cañón

By Andrew Ulanowski

I’ve sometimes wondered
how long you would fall
if you were to fall
into the Grand Canyon . . .
I suppose you could use some measurement,
some formula that has you hurtling through the air
at ‘X’ miles per hour until you hit ‘terminal velocity’,
or the canyon floor.


Fitting phrase that, ‘terminal velocity’ . . .

I wonder how long it takes
for you to mess your pants up
on the way down.
I bet Wiley Coyote knows.

How humiliating it would be
to get beaten to death
by your backpack filled
with life-sustaining water
and granola bars
just before you make your mark in the world.


Read more Ulanowski poetry under his pen name Raul Aqua at Scribd.com/Raul Aqua

Submit poems of your own at Scribd.com.

Saturday, January 09, 2010

San Diego Whaley House and nearby cemetery





THE FAVOR

alcohol kills
slowly my mom
watched it in her
neighbor who lived
well into her 50s until
body parts shut down – a
fresh teen in her yearbook wrote a
sad dark ode to hangovers was
hooked on drugs by 25 then
murdered by a john – as
sick as it was it was
quick – and maybe
he did her a
favor.

-Ryn Gargulinski.01.2010



See more Ryn writing and art at RynRules.com and Rynski.Etsy.com.

Check out her blogs at TucsonCitizen.com

Negative Nellie personified

NEGATIVE NELLIE

sometimes I hear his
negative voice march
mantras through the
tunnels in my head – the
coffee’s not
strong enough the dog
leash not
long enough the
TV’s too
little the cheese
grater sucks – like

goldilocks rarely
satisfied – I’m sad as
that used to be
me.


-Ryn Gargulinski.01.2010



See more Ryn writing and art at RynRules.com and Rynski.Etsy.com.

Check out her blogs at TucsonCitizen.com