The Snarkadelic Word Smith Awaits the Penguin Whisperer Standing in the dark haze of the alley way. Every breath sends a chilly fog into the night. The stars long since blotted out of the sky by manufactured neon bulbs flickering in their inconsistent rhythms like an erratic heartbeat spooked by unknown sounds and thoughts unchained in incessant regurgitation lying awake at midnight between consciousness and dreaming. The mind rambles on like the city streets never failing in their constant symphony of horns. The cries of those wandering souls long since forgotten by the society that claims to care: the politicians, photo ops, guilt-driven good deeds, the jaded jerks with their assumptions of panhandling no-goodniks, passing by in their 2400-dollar suits and brightly shined shoes, never giving second thought to the down and out. Sleep is a luxury in these days of twenty-four hour shifts. Electric suns destroying rhythms here since before time. Machines built without off buttons are clicking round the clock. Coffee cups overflowing. Endless refills of a caffeinated generation walking past art and beauty in a haste, a waste, laser focused on problems man-made and trivial while eyes grow beet red dead tired in a race to see what machinery will wear down its rusted elements. In a final cry of acquiescence, its bones and bolts no longer fit to serve. Taxis screaming down the street in hurried impatience as I glance towards the calm dance of a paper bag flying in the wind. The ever present ticking of the silver encrusted pocket watch hanging from the stranger’s trench coat, shakes me from my dream. Here he has delivered in simple whisper the keys that unlock that next lexicon destined to pass from my weary fingers onto simple paper. As if on immovable cue by some divine puppetry, my reluctant muse, the penguin, disappears into the night, leaving this word smith waiting once again.
This is a throwback poem from a previously published book. I’ll be posting throwbacks every Wednesday.
I wrote this poem for Napowrimo in 2013. The prompt was film noir as a poem. It’s one of my favorites to perform, though I wrote it well before I’d ever read my poetry out loud.
Abundant Sparks & Personal Archeology
Abundant Sparks & Personal Archeology combines D.L. Lang's second and third ebooks into one paperback. This poetry collection offers poems spanning the silly to the spiritual. The poems were largely transcribed from notebooks by her husband and soul mate, Timothy Lang. There is a mix of poetry written in 2013 as well as older poems from the author's archives.
These are two books that my husband, Tim, helped me compile when I couldn’t. I am grateful for his help. They were originally published as two separate eBooks in 2013. Both sections of this text contain many poems from my archives that I wrote as a teenager in Enid, Oklahoma. Due to the uncertainty about my being able to continue writing at the time of compilation, my aim was to archive everything that I had written thus far, good or bad, polished or raw. I wrote the newer selections of Abundant Sparks between October 2011 and May 2013 while I was still working and living in San Rafael. The newer pieces in Personal Archeology, on the other hand, I created between May 2013 and November 2013 during a time of uncertainty and personal reflection. The title poem examines a handful of my famous relatives, as I am distantly related to the following historical figures: Karl Ludwig Sand, Azeline Hearne, Dicey Langston, Jack Reed. Due to medical restrictions and a lack of inspiration following an injury that left me unable to type without severe pain, I ceased writing for the majority of 2014 until I attended my first open mic that December, which relit my inner poetic flame. I delayed releasing this paperback until 2015, coinciding with the release of Look Ma! No Hands! when dictation software allowed me to write again. This version was re-edited by the author in 2017, primarily because punctuation is the bane of my existence, leaving previous editions with too many errors to be ignored, and my poetry formatting style has since changed to not capitalize first letters of every line.Full list of poems included in this volume: Penguin’s Prayer Mistranslations The Snarkadelic Word Smith Awaits the Penguin Whisperer Color Nature Plowshares Squared Main Street Café Misfortune Cookies Victory Planetary Heartburn Suffering: Now Available In HD Platitudes You Heavenly Earthly Bodies Basherti Despair Casts Its Ballot Silver Winged Predators Perpetually Cardboard and Freedom The Harder We Fall Ghosts of History The Wall Between Us Fried Shomer Invisible Companions Oh, My Dear Heart I Cry Out Floetry Illusions Of Age If It Bleeds, It Leads Generation Awake! Dawn Remaining Reminders Desires Of Destruction Today The Penguin Poet Pillars Poetitis Clicking Depression’s Delicious Dance Midnight Morning Transient Curse Bulldog Snuster Guide My Ghost Against The Wind All Final Destination Unknown Deux Faux Amies The Fight…For Right Friendship I Fright Flight Gossip Happiness Hard Times How? If You Knew, Tell Me Lazy Lost Friend Insanity Silly Purple Chrome Poem The Ranger We All Shine On Title of the Story The Wish Disasterpiece The Words Bootstraps Substitutes Maximum Simplicity Poet’s Pride Industrial Strength Strife Pavement Studies, Ph.D. Dictatered by MFN Hashtag Penguinface This Side Up Diner of Death Oblivious Pain Street Brother Soul Dance My Promise Laborer’s Prayer The Compromise Wilderness A Divine Anger Enabler of Life Rising Above The Pit Geographic Freedom Soul . Dining With Your Skeleton She Awoke In Heaven Letting In The Light Personal Archeology 21 Breaking Free Too Many Deeds Misaligned Our Creeds Realignment Candles Rekindled Sentimental Anachronisms The Laundry Prophet My Evil Twin Bono Vince Malum Witnessing The World The Ladder Mother’s Road Crissy Defeating Dumbfounded Diffidence Time Is Relative To Love Our Guardian, Our Leader The Mandala Rediscovery Growth Haight Suburbia Contentment Eviction Of Humanity High Priority Lows The Dreamer We Fell Asleep To Dream Anew Infatuation
Hi! Enjoying what you’re reading? Please consider buying a book, or using the donation button on the sidebar. Poets aren’t always compensated for our performances and efforts, and doing so would help out greatly and ensure this website stays around for years to come.
All of my gigs have been cancelled until further notice. Please stay safe everyone. If you would like to support me at this time, please consider buying one of my books from your favorite online retailer.