#marcella hammer

[poetryinvitational]

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Mrs. Annie B. Church wishes to announce that she is NOT going out of business, but has a better line than ever of Wallpaper, Paints, Varnishes, Mouldings, Window Shades, Linoleums— In fact, everything for decoration. —Marcella Hammer Source: The Saratogian, April 1, 2015—reprint of a local ad from 1915

[poetryinvitational]

I Must Commit

I need to find a rhyme, I must commit. But sometimes pressure makes it hard to think— (A poem is built, not born, you little shit.)

It's all invisible until I fit Intention, syntax, plot enough to link— (I need to find a rhyme, I must commit.)

I'll choose an awful truth I can admit, One light enough that most of me won't sink— (A poem is built, not born, you little shit.)

There’s cost of course, a suffering to quit. I try to catch up with myself and drink— I need to find a rhyme, I must commit.

You might read this, somewhere, where you sit, And now I’ve said too much, and now I shrink— A poem is built, not born, you little shit.

I’m barely here at all, despite my wit— And I'm just glad for nothing to rethink— I need to find a rhyme, I must commit. A poem is built, not born, you little shit. -Marcella Hammer

[poetryinvitational]

I Resolve

I resolve to be braver this year. That's easy, right? Face every fear! I'll bring extra pants Or leave shit up to chance And hope there are bathrooms quite near. —Marcella Hammer

[poetryinvitational]

Secrets Told to Van Gogh's Ear

What I tell you is secret, OK Vin? And I know you must hear this one often— But I get it, I do‚ and I'd cut off mine, too If I knew all you knew, made, and have been. —Marcella Hammer *Straight up inspired by VAN GOGH'S EAR.

[poetryinvitational]

Note to Selfie

Time is the only valuable here. —Marcella Hammer

[poetryinvitational]

Today at the Lake

A hawk chases something almost as big into the old pines and just as I pick out the hawk's voice they all go quiet, like jerks at a bar. —Marcella Hammer

[poetryinvitational]

What I Think About When I Think About Mutants

A scar is stronger than skin. "That is science!" says Science, but also me when I touch mine and feel Holes, slices really, taken out a long time ago just  Yesterday. In mutant movies, minds are read, bodies transform from Scales to smiles and skin. Sometimes mutants will fly or  Fight the good fight with ice, fire, metal, hands, brains.  They might not feel love much either, and there's a  True exhaustion and hunger and death is death is death.  I could spend a life like that—a fighting life,  Defending, always learning, half infinite, without sleep or dirty underwear. —Marcella Hammer

[poetryinvitational]

How to Lead

I don't ask what's wrong—instead say, Maybe tell me what's bothering you? That's how they trust— How you become theirs. Even the most angry, doubtful, unhappy— Brave that leap between the brain guts and the  Other—meaning, me. Sometimes they go from six feet tall down, down, down to Seven years old, to the first day they became a self—smiling like A puppy would smile, with different lips. Please, they say without saying— Please find something good here, Left behind and forgotten because Everything, everyone else makes, thinks, does it better— So much better. All people need is their compliment, the right one—just one. Usually, it helps—marks the trails so they Can find their way back—it works on most everyone— Except for me. —Marcella Hammer