palindrome poem

In a Ford, like this one
I have kissed boys in trucks before,
lifted, like this one,
black like this one.

I have kissed boys in trucks before
ran my fingers through their hair so silky
black, like this one,
I have held boys in my arms before.

Ran my fingers through their hair so silky
they kissed me like sugar rations after the war
I have held boys in my arms before
long after midnight when the stars were slinking back home

They kissed me like sugar rations after the war
I was precious cargo they were scared to lose
long after midnight when the stars were slinking back home
I kissed them back

I was precious cargo they were scared to lose
ran my hands through their hair so silky
I have kissed boys in trucks before
In a Ford, like this one.

—  c.d. - In A Ford
Love

Love…
Like rain,
Falls quietly
Drops  hard
And often trips
And stumbles and
Trips often and hard…
Drops quietly
Falls rain-like -
Love

"Dammit I’m Mad" (a palindrome poem) by Demetri Martin

Dammit I’m mad.
Evil is a deed as I live.
God, am I reviled? I rise, my bed on a sun, I melt.
To be not one man emanating is sad. I piss.
Alas, it is so late. Who stops to help?
Man, it is hot. I’m in it. I tell.
I am not a devil. I level “Mad Dog”.
Ah, say burning is, as a deified gulp,
 In my halo of a mired rum tin.
I erase many men. Oh, to be man, a sin.
Is evil in a clam? In a trap?
No. It is open. On it I was stuck.
Rats peed on hope. Elsewhere dips a web.
Be still if I fill its ebb.
Ew, a spider… eh?
We sleep. Oh no!
Deep, stark cuts saw it in one position.
Part animal, can I live? Sin is a name.
Both, one… my names are in it.
Murder? I’m a fool.
A hymn I plug, deified as a sign in ruby ash.
A Goddam level I lived at.
On mail let it in. I’m it.
Oh, sit in ample hot spots. Oh wet!
A loss it is alas (sip). I’d assign it a name.N
ame not one bottle minus an ode by me:
“Sir, I deliver. I’m a dog”
Evil is a deed as I live.
Dammit I’m mad.

before I go
I had to tell you this
I love you
more than
I’d love anything else
I’m leaving because
I can’t take it anymore
because
I’m never with you
and it’s driving me crazy
you’re always around
when I’m not
you say you’re in love with me
and I’m sorry
it has to end this way

Now read it backwards!

“Dammit I’m Mad”

Dammit I’m mad.
Evil is a deed as I live.
God, am I reviled? I rise, my bed on a sun, I melt.
To be not one man emanating is sad. I piss.
Alas, it is so late. Who stops to help?
Man, it is hot. I’m in it. I tell.
I am not a devil. I level “Mad Dog”.
Ah, say burning is, as a deified gulp,
In my halo of a mired rum tin.
I erase many men. Oh, to be man, a sin.
Is evil in a clam? In a trap?
No. It is open. On it I was stuck.
Rats peed on hope. Elsewhere dips a web.
Be still if I fill its ebb.
Ew, a spider… eh?
We sleep. Oh no!
Deep, stark cuts saw it in one position.
Part animal, can I live? Sin is a name.
Both, one… my names are in it.
Murder? I’m a fool.
A hymn I plug, deified as a sign in ruby ash,
A Goddam level I lived at.
On mail let it in. I’m it.
Oh, sit in ample hot spots. Oh wet!
A loss it is alas (sip). I’d assign it a name.
Name not one bottle minus an ode by me:
“Sir, I deliver. I’m a dog”
Evil is a deed as I live.
Dammit I’m mad.

—  Demetri Martin’s 224-word palindrome poem (the entire poem reads the same backwards and forwards)
now, read it backwards.

“Dammit I’m Mad”

Evil is a deed as I live.
God, am I reviled? I rise, my bed on a sun, I melt.
To be not one man emanating is sad. I piss.
Alas, it is so late. Who stops to help?
Man, it is hot. I’m in it. I tell.
I am not a devil. I level “Mad Dog”.
Ah, say burning is, as a deified gulp,
 In my halo of a mired rum tin.
I erase many men. Oh, to be man, a sin.
Is evil in a clam? In a trap?
No. It is open. On it I was stuck.
Rats peed on hope. Elsewhere dips a web.
Be still if I fill its ebb.
Ew, a spider… eh?
We sleep. Oh no!
Deep, stark cuts saw it in one position.
Part animal, can I live? Sin is a name.
Both, one… my names are in it.
Murder? I’m a fool.
A hymn I plug, deified as a sign in ruby ash.
A Goddam level I lived at.
On mail let it in. I’m it.
Oh, sit in ample hot spots. Oh wet!
A loss it is alas (sip). I’d assign it a name.N
ame not one bottle minus an ode by me:
“Sir, I deliver. I’m a dog”
Evil is a deed as I live.
Dammit I’m mad.

the truth
is the power

i am bounded by words,
flipped pages,
notes scribbled,
letters rearranged,
rendered feelings
& home-stays

my creativity cannot be tamed
i'm clawing
at the four walls of the box
this slow painful escape
i reach for
will one day be mine

& home-stays
rendered feelings,
letters rearranged,
notes scribbled,
flipped pages,
i am bounded by words

is the power
the truth