BUMBLEBEES BUZZ

coyotes howl. hyenas
cackle. cats yelp and
yowl with their tails
'neath a rocker.

bumblebees
buzz. crappy
cars clunk. eye
sockets pop
when they’re
bopped with a
baseball.

rats tisk. lizards
hiss. my dog
croons a tune
that sounds
like “I love you.”

-ryn gargulinski.01.06.11

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.

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

MEETING HIS MOTHER

by Ryn Gargulinski

I wanted her
to like me because she
was his mom and he
was my boyfriend and
the first impression is the
lasting impression that can
make or mar the future make her
hate me for 12 years so I brought a
homemade trinket chitted chat about
her past said I really like your house this fine
gold carpet looks brand new and she

may have gone and
liked me just fine – if my dog had not
straddled that
gold carpet and
peed.

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

GREEN ONIONS

by Ryn Gargulinski

When I chop
green onions I
think of you the
technique you learned in
cooking school about
peeling off the layers to get to
the good stuff nestled deep
inside – when I

said it wastes half the onion you asked
did I like such things that were
scratchy and bland – which is what

happened to our relationship we
stopped laughing stopped trusting you
pretended to have a job at some restaurant but just
hid around the corner as I took the

train to work – but some
fond stuff is still
nestled deep inside – in that
tasty plump core called
nostalgia.

The Last Place You Look

by Andrew Ulanowski

I remember
When my father was alive
And the Cubs
Had players like
Ernie Banks,
Billy Williams,
Ron Santo
And the coach
Was Leo Durocher.
One year
My Dad gave me a baseball;
My favorites
Had signed it
But it was a fake.
No matter.
It was my Dad’s heart
With Little scribbles
On it.
I used to think
It lost

But I just looked
And it’s here
In my heart
Right where he left it . . .


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

NOSTALGIA

by Ryn Gargulinski

I sometimes pine for
strange things like a
colored candy necklace that would
quickly stain your skin or the trek we’d
take to buy them from the
cottage to the gas mart past the
quarry where the frogs rot in the days
before quarries were fenced off in the days
before sunshine could cancer you in the days
before heartbreak before loss
of friends and pets the days
where you didn’t even care (when)
a necklace stained
your skin.

Read more Rynski poetry at Scribd.com/rynski.

REBEL - a poem in five parts

by Ryn Gargulinski

i.
if all my pets
rebelled they could
easily kill me – with their
dog claws their
rat scratch their
catalog of teeth – a fat
lizard who might
suck out my
eyes.

ii.
uppers downers cocaine meth –
heroin crack and PCP – all
rebellion – against the will
to live.

iii.
james dean was a
rebel without a cause my friend
dave was a rebel without a
house – while sweet
dean seemed so sexy in his
studly leather angst my friend
dave became
bedraggled began
to smell.

iv.
I shaved thick
rebellious lines on the
side of my
head but the lines were not
parallel and I looked
like an idiot.

v.
if all my pets
rebelled they could
easily kill me – and so
could an angry batch of
kids.

See more Rynski poetry at RynRules.com or http://www.scribd.com/rynski

Rebel without a Clue

by Andrew Ulanowski

I put on a uniform and I even took an oath
To defend my country and the Constitution
Against all enemies foreign and domestic.
They let me in (despite my lack of education)
And they told me I was to follow orders
Or find myself in jail for a long, long time.
I shook a little in my boots and did as I was told,
Ironing my underwear in perfect 6 inch squares
So I could be a bett(Silly)er Soldier.

One day I went to the flight line as I did most everyday
And the people in charge tried to put me in harm’s way,
Telling me I should do this and that and the other thing.
The things that they were asking were foolish and dangerous
Designed to make Disabled Veterans out of Silly Soldiers.

I refused. (Silly Soldier!)

They took me behind the bulding at work
And proceeded to threaten me with physical harm.
I stood my ground know(hope)ing they were bluffing.

And they were.

They finally decided that it was time for me to go to jail.
They really thought they had me there.
But I just laughed and said,
“Send me to jail; you’ll all still be idiots
And I will have three hots and a cot
Plus all of my limbs.”
(And I won’t have to lis(ten hut!) to your crap
I thought to myself.)

They muttered to themselves
And probably gave the assignment
To someone else who was still ironing their
Undies in those same perfect squares,
6 inches to a side, shaking in their boots
Not knowing that their loyalty
Would probably cost them an arm and a leg.

See more Ulanowski poetry, under the nom de plume Raul Aqua - and submit your own writing to the site! - at http://www.scribd.com/Raul Aqua

DOG IS GOD SPELLED BACKWARDS

the dog
chewed off his hind leg
not thinking twice not
thinking just doing it sort of
the way I moved to New York
or the way they perform abortions.

it’s easy not to think
that’s the easy part I often
meditate in traffic going the wrong way
with my eyes closed someone told me
that was dangerous
after they stopped laughing.

It’s easy to think
of gloom & doom and the way
my gerbil’s neck snapped when
I threw him against the cage
after he bit me
an accident
I hid in my brother’s room.

it’s hard
to stay solid,
to stay still, to keep hold
of the air when you are hissing
above the sunset or clunking
below the coal mines with a sickening thud
usually reserved for old men getting hit by cabs
or an old broad’s pocketbook, just don’t call her a broad,
or other things you are sorry for
that had to happen anyway.

-Ryn Gargulinski, 2001

Two roadkill poems (below) inspired by dead rabbit poked by stick

THUMP

By Ryn Gargulinski

some things are
better off dead – like
anger resentment a
cockroach a king – but not
so
for the
bunny by
the
road – you’d

think with
all their
animal Instincts – from
feeding to
breeding to
hopping from a
dog – they would
know when to
cross the
dang
street.

Do I Have Something on My Face?

By Andrew Ulanowski

I’m the funny little bunny
with a runny, little nose.
This look of mine
is no mistake.
It’s something that
I chose.

Looking close
you’ll see I’m smart
or maybe that’s just brains.
It seems my new position
comes with lots of pains.

A day ago
I ran around
on little bunny feet.
Today
I seem to only
be running down the street.

But if you’re feeling sorry
don’t be forever blue.
Just wait a little while
and this will
happen to you too.

See more Ulanowski poetry, under the nom de plume Raul Aqua - and submit your own writing to the site! - at http://www.scribd.com/Raul Aqua