Thin Wizzard Ward: Book Two/Four

By David Marx

I wrote this book of pages of poetry during my upper class college years attending Portland State U. I was majoring in biology education (about 1975). But I was hanging out at what I call a salon of a friend named Elizabeth. The zs of the title come from her name. Thin Lizzy was popular at the time but I didnt want to use the whole name. So I came up with Thin Wizzard. Ward I suppose because everyone (especially me) abides around hospital wards. Also Ward is an ancestral name of the family, so it felt personal to me.
I have written four of these books of poetry. Poetry for lack of a better description; pages of poetry with titles up where they normally appear in poetry, after the last line of the last page and near the top. I edited out any swear words with bleeps. Otherwise they are true to their original creation 33 years ago. They get shuffled around a lot: typed, punctuated in part, word processed, data processed, printed, and who knows what next! Elementally they were penned to be read. From me to you. Have fun!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 12, 2009
• ISBN: 9781465314925

David Marx

I was born in Oregon. But Dad got drafted so we lived at the various navy bases on the west coast (USA). I have 5 siblings. Camp Pendleton was a lot of fun for a bunch of Navy brats. I attended East Bremerton High School and Goethe Gymnasium in Regensburg, Germany as an AFS exchange student. I attended Portland State University earning a B.S. (Biology), an M.A.T. (Biology), a B.A. (Psychology) and a M.S.T. (Chemistry). I taught high school science in Portland, Oregon and some time in Honduras. I tried medical school several years but quit that. Now I am retired and only work part time.

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Copyright © 2009 by David Marx.

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Contents

Beauty on the steps

Take You Home

DRAW! Everybody DRAW!

David, talk!

Robert

He’s not writing something

Travelling about in the fire

You’re just about fight Larry fight

here doggy doggy doggy

Innocence

Mirror

May Fools

Poem

Calico Cat Coming Back

E T U L O S B A

No title

In Peace He Would Abide

When Walking

Praxis

Cause and Effect

So Guru

Steps

grow grow grow

Free Will

Triumph

Turned out for the event

Benzenes

Where is he soon

So what say hey

Thank You

as in wise

Thin Wizzard Ward

Sixteen Thoughts

Now I want to write the book

Yeah I’m a Believer

Eastwards, go Eastwards     (as in Yeats)

You want to draw

Override

Making Steps

Obligations

Chick click

Show on road

Lines from underneath

Thanks too, take one

Keep Up

Ooeahh

Have you seen son

Earthborne

diamonds under every bush

Try Hai Lie

Foolish Song

We would have to meet again

Success

What’s good for Tuesdays?

Title: East this orange for a dramatic approach

Speak, I commandeth

Free

Wee two

Two to too

Take these literally

Picture over already

Guru

There’s a fire burning

What’s in a title?

Mistake

Maharaj is coming

Caitanya

Not the real thing

Draw!

2-2-2

Full House

Flush Royaal 5-7-K-Q-4

Free

Check

Timely Notes

Everything he does

seems to come out right

Made it to the paper

Go Home

Easter Be Close

They’re coming in

from every side

KRONG

The trouble without troubles

Can you we he they it

Brain washin self evidence

First things first

Steps to the top

Drawl!

But Man, Dear Man

Dreams, dreams, dreams

In Church?

Think to make title HERE catchy

Yeah I’m a Believer     h

Two of several disguises

Christ

Defense Game

Paris?

Possession

Blam

Where’d that laugh come from?

Space Class Notes

Yeh heh heh

Day Won

Blame Saponification

Little or Big

Small or Large

Actually, sounds like Maya

Mind Slide

My My

     A bug, another bug on the phone     (June 17, 1977)

Keep us in mind, anyway, somewhere

where it’s handy

Here comes pool hall

Title or page poem in or of book

Be Me

At End of Day

Still Yourself

Father’s Day

Pope Paul Pace

What?

Bathroom

Brother

You Pud

Listen and write

What Speak These Mortals?

He looked set up

Aggravation

That one

by Coleen     (the babysitter)

E = m (speed of wrist)

Why not be God?

Son of a Gun

Mercy sakes

Just what do you need

That was pairless

That’s Right

Getting late kind of day awake

Try on Volume Note Two

Male Chauvinist

Let Us Go Out Into the Night

Glitter of the knite

Play it again Sam

I think

No You Don’t

Dear Poem

Maharaji sandwick

So I wanta sun

That Nothing

Cellular self

Nite Capper

For lack of a better first line

Beauty on the steps

Dog’s whelp.

What come you for?

Overtopping.

Never popping.

Hoping.

Seed seek,

sink,

blink. Job.

Where every word

is a song.

Abstract.

Too abstract.

It will be sheer chantsce

if this works out,

a veritable miracle.

Take You Home

Ouh.

Pain of

tightness in the chest.

Cigarettes, notes.

School notes.

Whole notes.

Orchestrating this and that.

Fringy fingers

in lieu

of frosty feeling

and an ALL RIGHT,

hey Joey!

Dennis and Dorothies,

Lizzy.

DRAW! Everybody DRAW!

Let’s see here,

count them up.

Writing onward lines

for times.

Reach

and preach.

Uh oh,

     draw!

Draw for cover!

Through or throw

          OK

in your money.

          Now?

and,

          Yes, do it!

you nerd.

Lizzy wants to borrow a cigarette.

Knock on door.

No, no.

Fizz, fizz.

More, more.

Don’t leave me

     pain poem.

This is getting pretty good.

GOD!     (Lizzy)

Lizzy:

I wish those kids would

come down again.

Let’s see how good I am

at wishing,

sigh,

on a fallen star,

sigh.

VISIT!

We’ve got a swimming pool.

That is so. FOOL!

Can’t you see what you’re doing?

David, talk!

Phases of the growth curve:

A) lag

B) accelerated growth

C) exponential growth

D) negative growth acceleration

E) maximum stationary

F) accelerated death

G) exponential death rate

H) readjustment

Throw that monkey wrench

into the song

     ,ot

     go back and

     FINISH IT

     anyway.

Beautiful. What is? Where?

Kid ends up crying but that ain’t the end

With a picture drawn

and minutes to go,

yeah,

repair

and adjust,

shape up,

slap down,

bang out,

fight!

I’m hurt.

Mommy, I want a gun.

Baby crying.

They can’t write, uhggh,

much longer.

We’ve almost got it!

Robert

Come on, draw! Hurry!

Shouting upstairs

and you in your room.

Robert,