{"id":1343,"date":"2019-07-13T01:50:10","date_gmt":"2019-07-13T01:50:10","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/?p=1343"},"modified":"2019-07-12T04:40:03","modified_gmt":"2019-07-12T04:40:03","slug":"a-rap-to-the-over-eager-and-more-poems-by-james-b-nicola","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/2019\/07\/13\/a-rap-to-the-over-eager-and-more-poems-by-james-b-nicola\/","title":{"rendered":"“A Rap: To the Over-Eager” and other poems by James B. Nicola"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

JBN self-identifies as a label-resistant American native of variegated hues. His children\u2019s musical Chimes: A Christmas Vaudeville premiered in Fairbanks, Alaska, with Santa Claus in attendance, opening night. He is host\/facilitator for the Hell’s Kitchen International Writers’ Roundtable, which meets twice monthly at Manhattan’s Columbus Library: walk-ins are welcome. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n


A Rap: To the Over-Eager<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Perhaps you have to do
\nWhat you think you have to do.
\nPerhaps, however, you don\u2019t really have to.
\nPerhaps it\u2019s only what you think you want.
\nBut take it from me, kid, consequences haunt
\nAnd ghosts do linger and cankers grow\u2014
\nDon\u2019t you think that I should know?
\nOh I\u2019m not saying don\u2019t
\nBut that perhaps it\u2019s wise to stall.
\nIt\u2019s their funeral but it\u2019s your Fall.<\/p>\n\n\n\n


[A mother]<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A mother
\ncannot be a poet.
\nThere’s too much to do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A mother cannot see the newborn as
    the hope of the future
    the glitter in the firmament
    the lifeblood con\u00acsummation of all cause
and certainly not as
    the onset of intract\u00acable death.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A mother-poet like that must go mad.
\nAnd yet\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A mother cannot help
\nbut be a poet<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As she protects the progeny from
\n     non-existent dangers
\n     imagined threats\u2014every bush at night a bear\u2014
\nand acts as if she herself were
\nthe young thing\u2019s swaddling armor till
\n     a ripe age when the cloth is shred
\n     to rags, the metal rusts and clanks, while
\n     all that remains unsaid below the surface
\nlies still
\n     and cold as the ice in the ocean, while
\n     hot as all the lava that laces the hells of living earth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And when the child folds into an adult\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A mother cannot possibly be a mother,
    which, in fact, she can only be,
and cannot help,
    but cannot help
but help.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I hope these sundry paradoxes
\nhelp you understand
\nyour mother.<\/p>\n\n\n\n


The Language of Encouragement<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When the cat was new the claws and teeth
\nwere trained before they’d become bayonets;
\nthe leaps and junkets to exotic lands,
\nno reprimand from you but twee caresses
\nand glee in a soprano register
\nthat passed for kitty talk. Destruction did
\nnot mount to much, yet.
\n And when he grew
\nhe walked all over every gut and scalp
\nthe same as ledges, as if all were his,
\nleaving a wake of shattered cachepots’ shards
\nand desultory scratch marks. See how easy
\nand natural it is for him, now free
\nand fully formed, to join the terrorists.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

JBN self-identifies as a label-resistant American native of variegated hues. His children\u2019s musical Chimes: A Christmas Vaudeville premiered in Fairbanks, Alaska, with Santa Claus in attendance, opening night. He is host\/facilitator for the Hell’s Kitchen International Writers’ Roundtable, which meets twice monthly at Manhattan’s Columbus Library: walk-ins are welcome. A Rap: To the Over-Eager Perhaps … Read More<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1343","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pa867U-lF","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1343","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1343"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1343\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1353,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1343\/revisions\/1353"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1343"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1343"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1343"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}