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Curves n’ Edges

May 16, 2020

SusanKirschabumSelfPortait:CopyrightMay2020GETTING CHEEKY! Isolation in the times of Coronavirus. Exploring angles in quarantine.  I believe they call this art…. (Self Portait/Susan Kirschbaum/Copyright May 2020.)

Study of A Dancer Who is Me

May 6, 2020

SusanKirschbaumSelfPortraitX2.jpgMaya Angelou knew why the caged bird sings. But do you know why the caged bird dances?   — Susan Kirschbaum (**Photographic and #poetry series that I am developing in captivity. Copyrighted material/2020.)

American Pie

April 19, 2020

KateTutuAndPunk

Narration of original poem by Susan Kirschbaum/SOUND ON!…. The rest of the text, below.

 

We were two kids just slinging pies

Fudging ‘em 

Scrapping ‘em

Better than tips

What street was that?

I can’t recall

Just two kids with dreams so BIG

A punk speaking lines from some wayward play

Putting out cigarettes in burnt coffee grinds

She danced on the tips of those weird blocked shoes

What kind of art makes you bend that way?

We were two kids just slinging pies

Fudging ‘em

Scrapping ‘em

Better than tips

What day was it?

I can’t recall

Just two kids with fake ID’s

The local bar was called Dirty Frank’s

They would hit the juke box, old Seventies rock

What do you think made Frank so dirty?

Washing it down with whiskey and beer

We were two kids just slinging pies

Fudging ‘em

Scrapping ‘em

Better than tips

What show was it?

I can’t recall

Just two kids who got called back

He read Chekov in black Doc Martens

Bastard son of Bukowski and Joe Strummer

She auditioned for all the ballets

Pretty pink tights, five classes a day

We were two kids just slinging pies

Fudging ‘em

Scrapping ‘em

Better than tips

When did it end?

I can’t recall

Just two kids who wanted it all.

— Poem written by Susan Kirschbaum  (Copyright 2020)

Meditation One (Quarantine Files)

April 15, 2020

MeditationOnePoemSusanKirscbhaum.jpg**Original POEM by Susan Kirschbaum/Copyrighted Material 2020

No Bunny’s Fool

April 12, 2020

 

“Well, no, I don’t believe in the mythology of Jesus, but I’ll hop around for quality chocolate.” — Susan Kirschbaum (as a Bunny)

(Not the) VOX POPULI

April 7, 2020

BURNINGBUSH.SUSANKIRSCHBAUM.jpg(Poem/Photo/All Words/Images by Susan Kirschbaum/Copyright 2020.)

Hey there Moonbeam

Shining on the wall

How many places can you fall?

I find myself traveling by your light

This singular hope

In this singular night

The vampires gather

On an illuminated box

How many “likes” in this time of illusion

Lest my persona shatter into a million little pieces

Much less than the

VOX….

Populi

Populi

Populi

Can you see me?

See me.

SEE ME!

Pick the flower from the lawn

Better move fast!

Or they arrest you…

Less than six feet away

From the tree who screams (silently, but you can hear)

“It is my day now!”

Go back to your cells

Those houses

Or rooms

That know no home

In a time of mirrors

Manipulated by VOX

Vox Populi

That killed the self

That houses the soul

Who respected the sunlight enough,

To let things grow

Did you enjoy how I posed with my breasts angled upward?

Hit the button

Play the song

No fingers touch the keys,

The strings,

The bow,

The sticks,

That rhythm is all in your head

Drumming

Banging

Pounding you AWAKE!

All through the night

Following a solitary moonbeam

That questions your sanity.

EMERGENCY BROADCAST SYSTEM: “We Interrupt Your Regular Scheduled Program…. “

March 22, 2020

(VIDEO/AUDIO RECORDING “EMERGENCY BROADCAST SYSTEM”) ORIGINAL POEM/WRITTEN & PERFORMED BY SUSAN KIRSCHBAUM (COPYRIGHT 2020) ** PHOTO OF SUSAN KIRSCHBAUM AND HER FATHER MARVIN, PHILADELPHIA, PA, AKA “PHILLY,” ONCE UPON A TIME….. (PLAY/SOUND ON!)

 

Text:

My insomnia is so strange now

I look up at the clock

It’s inching near 5 am

The silence questions me

Is this even real?

Are we really locked inside,

Waiting for the darkness to lift?

Is there really a Madman in the White House?

Could I possibly fall asleep to a new dawn,

Where none of this were true?

I talk to my father as if he were sitting here

“You’re caught in an illusion, kid.”

This is a test of

The Emergency Broadcast System

Anyone remember those ads?

The blaring alarm that interrupted your TV

At unreal hours,

Like  now

They don’t play them anymore

Cause the Emergency Broadcast

Is ongoing.

 **Poem by Susan Kirschbaum/Copyright 2020.