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Whilst making a living…

…writes Marcus.
  • poems
  • short story
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poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanFeb 5, 20215:00 amFebruary 3, 2021
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Play Doh

I can’t quite make it out
but I can feel it giving way
to the pressure of my fingers
I can feel that joyful squish

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanFeb 4, 20215:21 amFebruary 2, 2021
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bones, broken or not

I am bones when I see a friend
I am bones when I eat
I am bones when one of us survives

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanFeb 3, 20214:18 amJanuary 29, 2021
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Chipping scabs, touching stars

dancing on floor made of
cracked and splintered bone
skin stretched thin
scarred pink and white

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanFeb 2, 20214:15 amJanuary 29, 2021
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I can forsake you too

two devil’s on my shoulder
both on one side
one sat down, gently
with grandpa’s big smile

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanFeb 1, 20214:22 amJanuary 29, 2021
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Careless with fire

there are bridges i’ve burned because I didn’t want to be followed and there are bridges I’ve burned because I was careless with fire.

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 29, 20204:37 amDecember 29, 2020
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Filmed poem – The heart slaps along

The heart slaps along

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 25, 20204:55 amDecember 24, 2020
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To the scavenger

write as a vulture;

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 24, 20205:00 amDecember 20, 2020
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Decent and good parents

And his lover
having had decent
and good parents
will reply,

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 23, 20204:30 amDecember 20, 2020
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Someone is listening

There is a man
crossing the street
talking to himself
or

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 22, 20204:45 amDecember 20, 2020
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Beautiful things

There are beautiful things
There are such beautiful things

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 21, 20205:30 amDecember 18, 2020
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I’ve literally written a poem

I’ve literally written
a poem
You’ve literally read
a poem

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 20, 20205:00 amDecember 20, 2020
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Coffee black

coffee
black
like letters perched
on invisible wire

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 19, 20205:30 amDecember 17, 2020
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Cajon and Vine

sit
under gray clouds
and burnt sky
under waving patriotism
tattered

Off the top by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 18, 20209:10 pm
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Soul Asylum Radio

Hello fellow readers and writers, Recently, I had the unique experience of participating in a podcast episode of Soul Asylum, a podcast on Blog Talk Radio. I was asked to share one of my poems, […]

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 18, 20204:55 amFebruary 6, 2021
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Made of stone

Find yourself a house
made of brick
or cement
cinder block, if you can find it

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 17, 20204:50 amDecember 16, 2020
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Farting Hillary Clinton’s

we giggled all the way to the arcade
I pushed in two quarters
and we
played Farting Hillary Clinton’s

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 16, 20205:00 amDecember 11, 2020
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Out of living bone

Make me a phone
out of living bone
Caulk it with marrow
wrap it in tissue

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 15, 20207:00 amDecember 9, 2020
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A text from Saul at 11:56 AM

I offered to send him toys and help me pick.
He said I want my papa for 100 days.

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 14, 20205:04 amDecember 8, 2020
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The ants are back

The ants are back looking for their food
and I don’t see them until they wind

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 13, 20206:00 amDecember 22, 2020
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This heart

And beauty slathers itself
on rusted sheds
cricket legs
a field of dust and weeds

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 12, 20204:31 amDecember 8, 2020
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Only marrow enough

And beauty slathers itself
on rusted sheds
cricket legs
a field of dust and weeds

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 11, 20206:47 amDecember 11, 2020
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Me and Jack Kerouac

god and all the other little people
Me and Jack Kerouac

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 10, 20204:00 amDecember 8, 2020
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The heart slaps along

The heart slaps along
sticking
to hot asphalt
with each rotation

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 9, 20205:00 amDecember 8, 2020
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In eulogy with the burst

And I see
not much more than
string
wet and woven

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 8, 20205:31 amDecember 8, 2020
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And of the toilet brush

And of the toilet brush
next to porcelain bulb
resting in its holster
all bristles even with the lip

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 7, 20205:05 amDecember 8, 2020
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Beautiful thing

and the more beautiful I see
the more ugly I do
and the more ugly I see
the more beauty I do

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 6, 20205:00 amDecember 8, 2020
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You know

you know you’re alone
but that little blue ball
Bukowski’s little blue bird
still hops

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 5, 20205:00 amDecember 8, 2020
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A lesson from the laundry

Two hours in the dryer
still wet
try again

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 4, 20205:15 amDecember 8, 2020
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At walls’ full of platitudes

I saw him, second
In meetings anonymous
Old and bruised
Bewildered and staring

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 3, 20205:00 amDecember 8, 2020
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They pile up

and you can’t stop
so you don’t start
and they pile up
and you lose sight

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 2, 20205:15 amDecember 8, 2020
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I don’t want to smoke

I don’t want to smoke
and I sneak away
to coffee shops
and think about smoking

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanDec 1, 20205:04 amDecember 8, 2020
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Now I have the time

Now I have the time
to pay attention to the names
of musicians
both living and dead

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanNov 30, 20206:40 amDecember 8, 2020
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I know a great writer

I know a great writer
but you don’t
her greatness is planted
in not knowing, not

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanNov 29, 20206:15 amDecember 8, 2020
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lazy day with nothing to say

snow buried, re:
whites, grays, haze
Trieved to a
Saint slobbering Bernard

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanNov 28, 20206:15 amDecember 8, 2020
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Oh, rolling tongue

Oh, rolling tongue
thick fatigue
lolling numb
“I’s” and “Me’s”

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanNov 27, 20206:15 amDecember 8, 2020
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A sip of marrow

My eyes glaze, I lick my lips
and dream of your apocalypse

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanNov 26, 20206:15 amDecember 8, 2020
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Inside my chest there lives a cat

I called it names to which it spat
‘til desperation made me scream
I know not, love, for what you dream

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanNov 25, 20206:15 amDecember 8, 2020
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And Paul

we want to see beauty
and we’re the same
with different words
so I choose carefully

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanNov 24, 20206:15 amDecember 8, 2020
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Until I get to later

I tried drinking
Like Hemingway
But the loneliness was unbearable

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanNov 23, 20206:37 amDecember 8, 2020
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Light’s Fingers

Light’s fingers press in darkness stains
Colors froth through milky grains

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanNov 22, 20206:15 pmDecember 8, 2020
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Please

I tried drinking
Like Hemingway
But the loneliness was unbearable

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanNov 22, 20204:11 amDecember 8, 2020
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Teddy bear

Teddy bear
picking seam
removing fluff
piling up
Teddy there

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanNov 21, 20204:30 amDecember 8, 2020
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And I want to be the king of my castle

And I want to find words that aren’t in a book
And I feel too much pain will allow me to look

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanNov 20, 20204:11 amDecember 8, 2020
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It was the times

And
I write them out
So plainly
Too quickly

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanNov 19, 20204:15 amDecember 8, 2020
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Youthful Beauty

The pianist’s fingers bleed
for the raised voice
recognition
of barfly’s and
passersby

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanNov 18, 20206:10 amDecember 8, 2020
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Pulling down words

Follows
Gravity
Mixed
Literal

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanNov 17, 20206:19 amDecember 8, 2020
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I tried to bet the ponies

I tried drinking
Like Hemingway
But the loneliness was unbearable

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanNov 16, 202011:09 amDecember 8, 2020
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Forced words

A train not even crashing
No explosion
Just quietly retiring
Off the tracks

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanNov 15, 20206:38 pmDecember 8, 2020
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If you’re lucky enough

And if you let yourself go
you’ll bloom in a shimmering galaxy
of golden hair

poems by Marcus Jonathan ChapmanNov 15, 20204:15 amDecember 8, 2020
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And it’s in my chest

And I keep pressing down
And I think of a pianist
And I want to make music
And I hate the things my fingers leave
And I make noise

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