An Oscar! An Oscar! My Kingdom for an Oscar!

As I sit down to write my annual review of all the Best Picture nominees, I am struck by the foolhardy nature of this enterprise. Why should I review these films when the epitome of the Oscar occurred back in 1941? You see, in 1941 (and again in 1945), an Oscar for Best Original Song was won by Oscar Hammerstein II. These are the only instances in history where an Oscar was won by an Oscar. The Academy should have just left the party on that high note and gone home.

However, since these award shows have continued, I shall continue to present small synopses of each movie which has been nominated for Best Motion Picture. Also, as is tradition, I will offer these opinions without having seen one single minute of any of the films. Rock and Roll!

2016 April Poem-a-Day Challenge Day 5 Prompt - an "experienced or inexperienced" poem

America
(in part)


Indentured to a past
bathed in torture,
we struggle to learn ourselves.
So young, runaway,
violence swirls around our core
and drags us to our depths.
We were brash, we were proud,
we were out of our world,
afraid, so very afraid.
Striking out at our parents
before sowing salt in our souls,
are we cursed with hate?

2016 April Poem-a-Day Challenge Day 4 Prompt - a "distance" poem

Sunday Afternoon in the Park
(aka The Furthest Sense of Finish)


Sitting next to Thoreau
On this slight crevasse
Signals shine forever
Interjected
Through the branches
Folded over each other
Embracing the sky
Here is nothing
Surrounded by all
And the small-
Ness breaks its place
To peaces
Tumbling
Like gravel down
Weathered walls
Slick from age

The closer we get
The deeper we sink
The distance we own

2016 April Poem-a-Day Challenge Day 3 Prompt - "a Three (blank)" titled poem

3 Lines X


The 1st 1 has 5.
The 2nd 1 has 7.
The 3rd 1 has 5.

Nothing but ink-stained
Words along syllabic faults
Lost down cracked gardens

2016 April Poem-a-Day Challenge Day 2 Prompt - "a what he said and/or what she said poem"

Silent Suicide



You knew it a long time
Ago. You never said it
Though. You only held it
Silent. It built inside your
Chest. Boiled to your
Heart. Hardened edges
Sharp. And then you
Died. You died.

And now it is never
Said. It lays quietly
Grave. It haunts cold
Night. Sound bounced
Back. Unspoken
Death. In love.

What I said was never
Heard. And what you said
Lied.

For your forever
Remains. Where my always
Bleeds.

2016 April Poem-a-Day Challenge Day 1 Prompt - "A fool poem"

On the Hill
(after The Beatles)


Alone
Silently
Speaking to the sky
As the earth bends
Under his folded feet

Still of breath
Where others seek
Never hearing
The sun's collapse
Behind his closed eyes

No one near
Pausing at his thought
Ancient lines
Appear broken
By a sheepish smile

No matter who wins or loses, Oscar always comes around.

This year, I shall start with a little ditty.

Oscar season is here again!
So gather 'round all ye' old friends!
We'll watch the show and drink a bit!
And wonder who made all this fantastic art.

Of course, I joke. We all know I do these annual summaries of the best picture nominees out of love and adoration. Honestly. I enjoy the artistry that goes into film. I respect the hard work and effort of the good women and men in the industry. I envy those who can provide entertainment to others for a living. (Obviously these columns are not providing much.)

But I was worried this year. During the course of 2015, I went to the theater and saw 2, count 'em, TWO movies! That is 200% more than I have seen in the theaters since I began this project many years ago. And, one of them was actually good-to-great and was rumored to be a nominated for a Best Picture award. But, alas, Minions did not get the nod this year, and I am able to proceed with this column still batting 0 for Oscar nominations. (For full disclosure, the other movie I saw in the theater this year was the surprisingly good, original (if you forget about the early, and underrated, 90s Fox sitcom "Herman's Head"), and touching Inside Out. That was the film I was worried might get a Best Picture nod.) If either of these two movies had received a Best Picture nomination, my children were going to be forced to write this column! (Which would have consisted of the following: the case for advanced botany studies to defeat future reanimated corpse plagues, the interpersonal dynamics and resulting co-dependence of the Teen Titans, and several jokes about chicken butts.)

Now that has been settled and it has been clearly established that I have, again, seen absolutely zero minutes of these movies, I give you my summaries/reviews of the eight films vying for the Academy Award Best Picture prize.

2015 Poem-a-Day April 28 (matter or anti-matter prompt), April 29 (what nobody knows prompt), and April 30 (bury the (blank) prompt)

Island of Self


floating apogee
out of reach
taunting a flawed soul
"Reach for me
It's worth it all
Stretch yourself
Achieve
More and more and more
Come closer and you'll see
But you will never touch me."
gravity locks us bound
with rocks in our stomach
and doubt in our head
forever stranded


_________________________________________


Anniversary Truth

Everyone knows I love you
But nobody knows how much
Everyone knows our smiles
But nobody knows our screams
Everyone knows our outside
But nobody knows our home
Everyone knows the humor
But nobody knows the pain
Everyone knows us
But nobody knows us
And that is all well to me


______________________________________


Bury the Month

Bury the month in words,
in rhymes, in form,
in structure, in shape,
in ideas, and in ideals.
Escape from the overwhelming mountain
and scratch a way to view
a vision to a new page.
When letters split your mind
into myriad pictures
and shapes which never exist,
it may be the best
to resign the month,
dig the hole,
and pack down the dirt hard.
Begin anew on the first of the next.

2015 Poem-a-Day April 26 (Shakespeare-created word prompt) and April 27 (looking back prompt)

The Assassination of Discontent


The alcohol flows

Barefaced actions
Dissolve into frivolity

Hours drain

Past days
Spill under seating

Companions scatter

Painful memori
Reduces into numb

Empty glass
Empty mind
Empty


__________________________________________



Anniversary

If I examine
the Polaroid photo album
of the timeline of my life,
I am forced to admit
that the selfies I took,
and reveled in their memory,
have had their simplicity punctured,
yet completely enhanced through
the photobomb in each picture.
Thank. You.

2015 Poem-a-Day April 25 (across the sea prompt)

From Under to Across

Poor Ariel oh Ariel
You would have been better off
Just finding a raft
With Tom Hanks and a volleyball on it
Or even a small craft
With a kid and a tiger
Either way would have gotten
your sea legs a lot faster

2015 Poem-a-Day April 23 (historical prompt) and April 24 (moment prompt)

Those Were the Days


I remember back when
Cable TV was this unique
Idea which held all promise.
There was a channel, somewhere
Above the sports tier but below
CSPAN I, II, and III,
Which allowed lazy afternoons
To turn into intriguing lecture hours.
It started with showy reminders of
My Classics classes and education
And surface biographies of our country's birth.
It changed into something odd -
All-Nazi-all-the-time it seemed -
And while unsettling, it still provided
The rearview mirror view
For which I was tuned.

Then something happened.

Now when I flip the switch
And see what might enrich me,
All I see are people cutting down trees
Or driving across ice
Or crazy alien hunters
Or hillbillies trading junk for other junk
Or people trying to fix up junk
Or Larry the Cable Guy
Or something called Swamp People.

Oh, History Channel, what have you become?


_____________________________________________





Accidental

The time is too small
For an accurate measure
Between the thought
And the twitch
The pull of the trigger
And the firing pin mechanics
Lit the events in motion
Involving enormous blood
Lost into the floorboards
And ends in this home
Staring at a child
Motionless in state

2015 Poem-a-Day April 21 (what you are or what you are not prompt) and April 22 (nature prompt)

The Bio Summary

I used to answer
I am more than I am not
But the longer I see
The more I know
I can't reach that branch,
The tree is too vast
And much too high
And my squirrel tendencies
End at chestnuts.



____________________________________________



In Storms


The clouds roll in, gray and heavy,
Obscuring the sun from another day.
The rain will come.

Wind rattles the barren branches
Creating a combination chorus
Of breath and death.

Shadows encompass the walls,
Growing longer and more twisted,
Drowning the fight.

Repeat and reuse the night
Warning against open eyes
In ending, in storms.

2015 Poem-a-Day April 20 (My (blank) the (blank) prompt)

My Head, the Hearse

It has been years since
my mind has been alive.
There has been muddling,
routine, rote direction,
and inanity, but the firing
of any mental electric
has seen its last.
The days drone on
and they run into
the next and the next
and survival is the norm.
Past of late nights
spent in conversation elite
with sacrifice of sleep
are long past. Today
the talk is of the pain
and medicinal recovery.
It is only a matter
of time before the strain
drives me straight
into the dirt.

2015 Poem-a-Day April 19 (authority prompt)

Yeah, I never liked
That John Cougar Mellencamp
Authority Song.

2015 Poem-a-Day April 18 (only two vowel words prompt)

'Lows Eve


Oh vowels,
Only ewe
Know the
ever-oompf
of the words
BOO! and EEK!

2015 Poem-a-Day April 16 (science prompt) and April 17 (swing prompt)

Theory

I was born in a mind.
Surrounded by the world
And intrinsically part of it,
I was nurtured to health.
Also, I was poked,
I was prodded,
I was horribly, horribly abused,
And all for the best.
I could live or I could die
And I would be loved regardless.



________________________________________



All Lives Matter


The jukebox is apparently repeating.
Why is this fruit still swinging?
All I hear is Billie Holiday
singing about the southern breeze.
The blood at the root
seems to have sunk
into the fabric of this ground,
deeper than can be razed.
The ropes have been replaced
but the ignorance remains
along with the insipid hatred
which finds its targets with bullet accuracy.

The year doesn't change.
And magnolias still make me sick.

2015 Poem-a-Day April 15 (adjective-titled prompt)

Mute


.

2015 Poem-a-Day April 13 (confession prompt) and April 14 (honest or dishonest prompt)

To My Daughter

Among all this stress
is a single golden tress
which, when laid across my ches-
t, is indeed the most prec-
ious heaven you could bless.
My soul, that cratered mess,
would gladly find res-
t for this young lioness
who knows not her ques-
t, but to enjoy all the best.
So I loosen my ves-
t, heart swelling more than a fes-
tival of cowboys out wes-
t. And I can only wres-
tle with what is less -
the unenviable and fatal chess
or the horror of a life's press.

But I have no daughter, I must confess.



______________________________



To Be Honest

We speak to each other
Through tired silences
The inability to share
The undone plans
Left on the counter
To rot like last week's fruit
But here I sit
And there you sit
And between us is
This putrid corpse
Of our making

2015 Poem-a-Day April 12 (damage prompt)

The Uninvited, It Eats


Can you see inside me?
The shards that pierce
Are ravaged and old,
Dripping with rust,
Darkened inside my blood.

Can you feel inside me?
The aches are ancient,
Grown over, and poisoned,
Thriving in inverse,
Destined for a cancerous grave.

Can you smell inside me?
The rotting makes its way
Wherever it wants,
Forcing the realities
To reek like remnants.

Can you taste inside me?
The artifice of toxins
Leaves bitterness along the walls
Speckled with medicinal bullets,
False syrup slathered over my bones.

Can you hear inside me?
The screams of scars,
Never-ending and afraid,
Reveal my humanity as well
As my finality.

2015 Poem-a-Day April 11 (seasonal prompt)

Spiced


It was expensive,
but this fancy steak dinner -
worth its weight in salt.

If life were a meal,
you would be the paprika,
spicing up my grub.

Finishing this plate
of cinnamon rolls has been
my greatest life win.

What do you mean that
is not what the seasonal
prompt was all about?