Ode to one who loves her sleep

Do not tamper with my temper,
she said,
never wake me up
when I’m asleep in bed.

Men a lot braver than you
have tried,
with the result
that I had their hide.

My temper when wakened is like
the wrath of a god,
it scathes, it burns,
it kills at a wink and a nod.

The wounds I inflict
with my nails run deep.
Therefore do not, I repeat,
wake me up when I sleep.

– Felix Morgenstern (© 2008)

Once again I could not resist a prompt from Mad Kane, this time for temper, temper.

Click here for the Morgensterns' collected literary crimes in English and German.


Field theory, breathing and projectile verse

The other day, while dusting my shelf, I came across Charles Olson’s Selected Writings and started rereading his essay (if it can be called that) on what he thought poetry should be like.

I’m not very good at remembering abstract details, but I recall a few of his keywords, such as field, breath and projective.

Once again I feel compelled to illustrate theory to myself by practice, i.e. by living it.

The following poem practices everything Olson mentions.

Three Breathy Fields


It is an open field, unhindered by obstacles.

Not even a cow projects from it.

(Actually, I should remove the periods at the ends of the lines to achieve openness, and it surely won't hurt to move the subfields or breath units about a bit)

It is an open field, unhindered by obstacles

Not even a cow projects from it


Here I practice breathing. Everything I write should be spoken in one breath. It should be spoken without breathlessness, however. Since that’s a double negative, I’ll put it positively: It should be spoken with breathness. Still with me in the same breath?


Is like Neil Young’s field of opportunity, where "it’s ploughing time again"


This field is left open for your convenience, to plough things in, under or over. Fill it with breath, openness, projectiles, whatever. But remember not to damage the screen in front of you.

This ends today’s occupation with Charles Olson’s projective field and breath theory. Perhaps I shall return for another lesson soon. Await it with baited breath.


Relief for ED patients

To all those suffering from ED (Excessive Dishonesty), primarily politicians:

Do not despair! This new drug has helped Mrs. Clinton and is bound to help you:

Click on picture to display full size.


About my favorite color

My favorite color is red;
on chilly nights I wear
red socks in bed.

When it gets warm outside,
I take my bike out
for a ride.

Its color, as you might have
guessed, is red
cause that’s the best.

Red also rhymes
with daily bread;
it’s what we pray for
and what keeps us fed.

My grandpa’s car is red,
and what a life that man
has led!

In winter red is very good
because it is on
Santa’s hood.

Some roses are red,
and those are said
to best impart
the love in one’s heart.

To make my color poem full:
please do not wave
red at a bull.

– Felix Morgenstern (© 2008)

Posted for Colorful Poetry at The Miss Rumphius Effect and Color at One Single Impression.

A picture of health

Strapping – sapping –
succulently muscled –

– Iself (© 2008)

Written upon instigation by Mad Kane's Healthy Verse.

This little ditty demonstrates that it is possible to write using exclusively adjectives and adverbs.
The picture shows Jeffrey Hudson (Lord Minimus, 1619-1682).


Ancient Wisdom

If the terrain is rough
but you need to get across,
look for a gap in the rock.

– Chief Glory Horse

(aka Iself)

This ancient wisdom was retrieved in response to the request for literature with “gap and/or rock” (Two for Tuesdays IX).


My favorite triumph

My favorite kind of triumph is
neither military nor literary.
It's British, old-fashioned and
esthetically very pleasing.

Writers Island invited contributions on the topic of triumph.