Excerpts from my poetry book: "The Wickedness Of Flowers"

Here are a few poems from my third book of poetry, ("The Wickedness Of Flowers" follow the link to purchase) and the first one that I self published (all self pub'd) as Josie Boyce rather than under my old name.

The first one is a poem that took me many years to get to 'finished', though like Walt Whitman, one of the very few 'heroes' I have, I consider all my work to be mutable, and open to later revision. It's a dreamy worded piece that speaks in those dreamy tones about my youth growing up in rural New Brunswick, specifically, Sunbury County. Here is a video, followed by the text for those who don't like videopoems (pretty much everyone based on my hits.)

In The Blue South Of Sunbury County

In the blue south of Sunbury County

a child with cherries    

smiles 

spinning knives

                  teeth paint screams

ghosted trains within 

                pink fingers

rusted nails in the deep green

              mother's morning dreams .

flesh of aquamarine   

silent St. John River

                  sentences

                  disappear 

with the gaspareaux through 

the rapid water  

words fly & fall 

with these fish   so slumbered 

                     in red & brown   

                     lazy a part   

from   the   trees

sky a part from

turquoise & green afternoons   

                    sparse clouded memory   

memories of mine 

of  Sunbury County .

voices... 

purply watered

imagination 

pass each dream & drown

                   quiet dimples   

other children ring round me

one by one

(burnt roses helpless 

thoughts virgin puddles)

everyone sings down 

among the violets &

              clover .  

tears borrowed maybe stolen 

                              twirl down  

mother's fish scale glittered skirt 

wearing mirrors 

that catch each glimmer 

                     crinkled 

blue green red brown 

splash 

             swirl down & 

grasp playing Mr.  

           & Mrs. Dressup  

30 years ago in

the blue south of Sunbury County .  

© 2013 Josie Boyce (Published in "The Wickedness Of Flowers" 2013)

The second showcased poem was written back in the mid nineties when I was at my most prolific. I had access to a vocabulary that these days really eludes my grasp. I don't think I have this kind of rhythm anymore. This poem usually goes over really well when I read it, especially here in Vancouver, as it's very Van centric. video and text below:

This poem was selected to be in the Vancouver visible Verse Festival a few years ago, for video poems. More people saw it that one night than have or ever will watch it on youtube. It got a nice response.

Gargoyle Weather

I can drink from a candle's supple flame,

singing my grey hair black walking amidst

East Vancouver's furious rainy dropspots.

I can remember to remember myself

as easily quickly as i do, my dead

friends and unrequited lovers.

I can walk across a river of drowning

words, my head a fire of gargoyles dancing

on glass screaming riddles in rhyme.

I can close my eyes melting wax; scald my 

fingers with tongues of smoke kissed by

gingerhairedgirls crying missing down home.

I can breathe in this flooded sky deeply 

slowly, hold myself clinging to white green 

limestone as i swim rippling in my fear.

I can listen with cold glass ears to sylvan 

whispers of a former-very-near-to-being-my lover

: a friend, "I love you but you're always asleep."

I can grapple with dropping falling to my knees

to my belly punched soft flattened kicked 

my face cracked cracked cracked with tears.

I can lay here under this stone-crafted weather

letting a beautiful city step over the grotesque

echoes descending upon me with a fury of silence.

© 2013 Josie Boyce (Published in "The Wickedness Of Flowers" 2013)

The last poem for today's post is one that I wrote while living in Japan. By the time I left Japan my poetry mojo had kind of dried up, as i was so focussed on the pain of feeling like I was never going to transition my gender. It took almost 3 years of phone calls, letters from me and my doctor to even get an appointment. 

I wrote almost nothing in that time, and feel like I am just coming out of that creative funk now. I published my earlier books, and this one in order to try and kickstart that writing urge, that thing that made me write poetry every day. that thing is gone, but I do have a lot to show for when it was firing on all cylinders. This piece is also something fun to do live, especially if there are Japanese folks in the audience who often squeal when I pronounce Karaoke and a few other Japanese words correctly.

It's called "Chet Baker Reincarnated"

Here is a video of me reading at Pride In Art during Pride week in 2013. the poem in question starts at 4:31 into the video.

Here's the text of that poem.

Chet Baker Reincarnated 

sings 

karaoke in Tokyo 

every second 

          night he croons 

funny valentines 

&

the american girls 

             swoon

and smile 

       splendidly 

squealing clapping: 

                "sugoi, sugoi"

Chet Baker reincarnated 

is coy is

           flirting 

                 within 

           the melody

of his legendary sorrow

his blush of songs

                    seem 

a piped in dream 

a heavy desire 

just 

to get lost.

Chet Baker reincarnated

sips androgynous 

        cocktails

        between 

Japanese lullabies

           and he 

drums time 

on the table

as others 

     try in vain

to hit the notes 

he can and

does every 

        second night

Chet Baker Reincarnated.

© 2013 Josie Boyce (Published in "The Wickedness Of Flowers" 2013)