The
Power
by
Joe DiBuduo
Poetic Flash Fiction
An experimental genre
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The Power
by
Joe DiBuduo
Smashwords Edition
Copyright©2010 Joe DiBuduo
Cover and art by Joe DiBuduo
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Experimental
Starting to write so late in life
my mind was already set.
Conventions in literature are only
there to be broken I think.
All my contrary life I have
shattered rules, and learning
how to obey at this late stage
will never be for me.
I've taken the classes and learned
theoretical ways to write poetry
and fiction both, but I tend to
disagree. It's my nature I know.
Here is a compilation of 226
poetic flash fiction pieces that I have written in the last year or so.
A piece of transparent glass
A window of opportunity
Are one and the same
After you have passed them by
This collection is dedicated to James Natal , who taught me
everything I know about poetry,
and to my friend Donna St. John, who is always an inspiration.
Where I grew up in Hano, a Boston neighborhood, I would have been beaten with a stick for reciting a poem. So for me to write an entire book of poetry is so unlikely, I’m writing this book in a genre I call poetic flash fiction, because I feel I’m writing flash fiction in poetic form. I have included 226 poetic flash fiction poems in this collection.
Genres are formed by conventions that change over time as new genres are invented and the use of old ones are discontinued. Often, works fit into multiple genres by way of borrowing and recombining these conventions.
The following poems have been published
by
http://www.alongstoryshort.net
Pussy Cats
Magic Mirror
The Power
Let’s Not Talk About It
What is Broken (Granpa’s revenge.)
A True Friend
Extortion— published by the Prescott Valley Tribune.
Table of Contents
Chapter replaces the word Poem
Chapter 4 Blind Artistic Endeavors
Chapter 8 Internal Disintegrating Words from the Id
Chapter 9 Online Dating Despair
Chapter 17 Progressive Education
Chapter 18 Unexpected Transformation
Chapter 20 My daddy always said
Chapter 24Something to Think About
Chapter 26 Jeopardizing Brevity Rusticity Credibility and Versatility
Chapter 29 After Eight Years the Bombing of Afghanistan Goes On
Chapter 37 I’ve Been Loving Her and Don’t Want to Stop
Chapter 47 What a difference a Day Makes
Chapter 53 Beneath My Consciousness There’s a Stream
Chapter 54After the Poets Talk
Chapter 57 Before She was My Wife
Chapter 58 Sodium Thiopental & Pancuronium Bromide & Potassium Chloride
Chapter 68 Sanctuary Sanctuary
Chapter 75 Starry Starry Night
Chapter 88 Goddess Frankenstein
Chapter 90 For You and You Only
Chapter 97 Travel to the Stars
Chapter 99 Let’s Not Talk About It
Chapter 102 Dancing at the Mausoleum
Chapter 108 Cook County Jail 1962
Chapter 109 What's It All About I Wonder
Chapter 111 To be happy, let your eyes see
Chapter 119 Creepy Crawly Things
Chapter 145 Monday Night at the Palace
Chapter 162 Do you ever stop to think
Chapter 166 Night at the Bellagio
Chapter No 168 Catholic Divorcees Allowed
Chapter 170 What Ghosts Haunt Me
Chapter 172 Something I Can’t Live Without
Chapter 173 In a Hurry and Don’t Know Why
Chapter 174 Over and Over Again
Chapter 177 The One That Never Says No is Jail
Chapter 180 Thirteen Ways of Looking at an Ear of Corn
Chapter 182Relinquishing Relationships Formed Over Years
Chapter 183 Smile, You’re on Camera
Chapter 184 Always Presumed Innocent
Chapter 185 What a Difference a Day Makes
Chapter 188 Digital Defragmentation
Chapter 190 A Five-year-old’s Aspirations
Chapter 194 Jennifer, November 3
Chapter 196 Boston Public Gardens
Chapter 197 Things I Can’t Forget
Chapter 201 * 6:55 a.m. May 13, 2010
Chapter 207 A Strong Wind Blows
Chapter 208 Roberta or is it Robert
Chapter 209 Exoplanet Wasp – 12b is Made of Diamonds
Chapter 210 The Thrill is Gone
Chapter 214 Vincent Speaks To Me
Chapter 216 Professional Writers of Prescott
Chapter 222 He picked Christmas Eve to say
Chapter 223 Get out of Here Santa
Chapter 226 A Winter Wonderland
If only I had known I had the power, the power to make life glamorous, exciting, and filled with pleasure. A life lived in faraway places, a life filled with excitement, a life on the edge.
The power to have as many famous and influential friends as I want, to take or not calls from presidents and stars. I can if I please, invite celebrities and generals when I feel the need, who all want to see what mountain I’ll climb, or what fish I’ll catch, or maybe to see how great I sail.
Or if wealth is my desire I can find a lost treasure or masterpiece and claim it as my own. I can be handsome, and strong. Even superpowers belong to me. I know I can best Superman in any challenge or feat.
Beautiful women are mine, as many or as few as I want. When boredom overcomes me, I exchange them all for an adventure, as they cry and beg me to stay. Wherever I go, women find and want me.
There isn’t an animal I can’t best, a horse I can’t ride, and a dog that doesn’t love me. There’s not a fish I can’t catch, or one big enough to scare me. Great whites fear me and whales love me. Dolphins entertain me and sardines feed me.
The Great Pyramids are but specks compared to the palaces I build. The world’s but a stopping place for me as I travel to Mars or Jupiter, the Sun or the Moon. I can walk on a moonbeam and soar on light.
I converse with God and the Devil too. Jesus knows my name as do the angels and demons. Visits to heaven and hell are frequent and exciting and they beg me to stay. I leave when I want.
There’s not a race I can’t win, flying, running, or driving, I’m the best. I can lift any weight or outbox any champion; I out swim the fish and outrun the jaguar.
Mr. Wright’s buildings appear as cardboard boxes compared to mine. I build higher than anyone, and use the space elevator I designed as a building crane.
Mr. Edison envies my inventions, and my patents outnumber his ten to one. I design a better Internet and am the envy of Mr. Gates – his fortune pales compared to mine. The world fears the bombs I invent and celebrates the peace I bring.
I can be president or king. Emperor of the world if I want. The choice is mine.
To think this power belongs to me and to you. You ask where? Where is this immense power buried? I tell you it’s not buried, only sunken deep within.
To hatch this Herculean strength from within, we need but to take pen in hand and begin.
Chapter 2 Delusional
Words don't fascinate me at all
many I can barely pronounce
and have never met a rhyme I liked
until I wrote my own
what a thrill to put word after word
until I delighted at what I just said
conceited I know, but I'm the best poet I ever read
even though most who love language
write phrases that bring tears
I don't know why I can't enjoy their words
more than mine but that's the way it is
I see beauty when there is none
I guess it doesn't matter because those words
pecked out letter by letter belong to me
and only me and in my mind the word formation
is so much better than all the rest
and when it comes time to read
my poems aloud
I know those who listen will agree
the order of my words and the music they make
will be the best they ever heard
Chapter 3 Bug Hugger
I watch it struggle to survive
a thousand legs violently pushing
and pulling to stay out of the center hole
a rushing stream of water from a faucet
attempts to wash that thing down the drain
when a roach sticks his little head out
from the circular hole and looks me in the eye
I swear that bug telepathically said
you left the food here for us
to feast on and now like Vlad
you want to kill your dinner guests
it was right I had murder on my mind
just because I didn't like the way
those two insects looked
I didn't stop to think they may have children
at home waiting to be fed
I stopped the deluge
and watched all those legs grab hold
the creepy bug ran home to its mate
with maybe a bite to eat
I told him he had to go
and take his family with
because I can't control my urge to kill
those that are brown and look like him
I gently wrapped him in a paper towel
and showed him to the door
with a warning to never return
and if he did I wouldn’t be able to resist
that natural urge to kill
what doesn’t look like me
Chapter4 Blind Artistic Endeavors
Blinding light spawns liquefied steel
a volcano sending its molten core
across the metal in front of my face
my eyes covered with darkened glass
only see flashes of burning white light
I have to judge by touch what to melt
my fingertips guide the flame
constructing a sculpture
like Picasso did
I follow his lines to create
an animal with wings to sit with
Boadicea and her dog Spot
on my sandy desert lawn
images no one expects to see
on a residential street
cars brake and stop at the sight
of weird and tall sculptures
made from steel and cement
even children stop to look and point
a little boy says—can I look at the cool statues
unbiased judgment I couldn’t get anywhere else
I can hardly wait to get a welder of my own
and maybe build an Eiffel Tower or King Kong
on my front lawn for the kids to admire
and maybe climb
Chapter 5 Alto Saxophone
Musical notes fill the air
drift through Illinois, Missouri
and states west before
reaching Prescott where they linger
to sweeten the desert nights
One man blowing his horn
with honey-dripping sounds
from that little town
I left behind in Illinois
depriving it of sugary notes
Smoke from snow covered cabin
rises above mountain peaks
a peaceful night without a sound
but Angelo knows they’re there
the hatred in his heart lets him identify
those wolves that ate Gracie
they’re back looking for him
he grabs his carbine
bursts through the cabin door
ready to shoot the creatures
he knows every bullet has to count
but in his haste to load his gun
he drops the bullets
into the deep snow
scrambling to find them
his hands soon freeze
the two he locates
won’t be enough to kill
all those ravenously hungry
for him
Lying in bed thinking of a train
rolling down the tracks
a vision always in my head
McIntyre loses his head on
those same narrow tracks
his brother carries it home
to show his mother he’s dead
and won’t be eating dinner anymore
Walking on railroad tracks
a train approaches
smoke belching and whistle blowing
though distant
the train’s warning it’s there be careful
or you’ll lose your head
in fear and dread I try to run
but my legs stick in deep mud and the engine
bears down
steam envelops me in a cloud
I hear the squeal of brakes
when the train tries to stop
before it runs over me
I move and wake an instant before
I die and no one has to carry my head
to show my mother I’m dead
and won’t be coming home
for dinner again
Chapter 8 Internal Disintegrating Words
from the Id
A pillar of salt imported from Sodom or Gomorah
sat in her chair waiting to critique my work
like a hawk looking for a meal
her beady eyes set upon me
as though I'd be lunch if I uttered a sound
she swooped in with cutting words
turning my peaceful nature
into a violent volcano
emotions flowed like molten rock
inside my collection of synapses
flesh and bone erupted
I fired hot language right back
at this white piece of feminine saline
salaciously craving to emasculate me
with her spoken list
mortified that a white-haired shrew
brought forth my loathing
she tasted the flavor of anger
and was awakened so her next words slashed
my thrown together first drafts—according
to her—comparing them
to her carefully thought out Greek odyssey
I've been reading since the beginning of time
I felt pitted like a dog and my nature caused me to respond in kind
I'd like to have been cool and intellectual
and have said I'm better than that
but I wasn’t and responses backed up in my mouth— they wanted to come out with wicked words
but I didn't allow them
to flow through my locked lips
I had to pay the price of rage held inside
eating away any pride I owned
when that spiteful woman spewed sardonic
language saying it was my problem and not hers my volcano wanted to explode and
if I had the power of God
I’d certainly repeat his action
and turn her into a subdued pillar of salt
Chapter 9 Online Dating Despair
Colorful lights of red and blue
illuminate moans emanating from a
wrecked and despondent man
singing out his blues
she found another instead of him
distressed his world is devastating him
with regrets because he'll never even meet
the one who has captured his heart
with only electronic words
he never even heard her voice
but envisioned it a joy to hear
nor did he ever get to touch her soft silken skin
nor see the color of her eyes or gather in her scent
her beating heart full of love for so many
except him
his lights begin to dim the more he moans and sings
baby baby baby please don't do me wrong
and fall in love with another if you do I swear
I'll never love again and the lights in my life
will certainly change to solid black
so baby baby baby please baby don't find another
Chapter 10 Expectations
I smell ozone as I drift through life
tasting putrid substances
I hold particles of dirt suspended
in our atmosphere and hear space debris
in forty seven colors
My foul words reverberate through my ears and
I fear God in Heaven will hear
there isn’t a God
nor is there a Heaven
painful places preached to me
May well be paradise after I’m dead
quantum physics shows a thousand worlds
zoological impossibilities exist on every one
quarks and leptons interacting
via strong weak and electromagnetic
Fundamental forces proves neither exists
my head is a container full of deception and outright lies
I believe what the physicists say
but I better pray anyway so maybe
I can enjoy everlasting life
Non mi interessa dove vado dopo la mia morte
(I don’t care where I go after I die)
a dove speaks to me in Italian
through a mouth instead of a beak
telling me after I pass away heaven or hell
May be a choice but energy- filled air
is another place to go
without Saint Peter waiting at the gate
Chapter 11 School Days
So harsh were those days
I sat yearning that maybe I too