Dumbass

Man, the screen is full of muck

pencil scribblings etched in the soft display

finger prints, ciggy ash and beer droplets obscure the printed words

time for a rapid cleaning.

I've lost the user's guide, however

can't get by without viewing the contents table.

It's obtuse yet revered and laced with memories

bygone and ridiculous

genuine and pure

a conglomerate of bullshit and piety.

Bricks stacked up against us,

not really, though

that's the rhetoric that keeps me sane.

I'm stacked up against it all, destroying everything in its path

because I'm nothing if I'm not a martyr.

Without that book, I'm really screwed.

You see I can't seem to find the cable

the one that fits just right.

I've tried but bottles full of forget do their job

and my lousy actions stick to your fly paper.

And now I'm downing liquid regret,

washing all that history away.

holy shit

A walk down that stupid lane

took me right back to that time, again.

(I can finally see what was at hand)

I was too blind back then,

to even comprehend.

My expectations, too great

my sight, too unseeing

I put you in a dark hole

and tromped upon the opening.

Apologies and words

are flighty and futile

I am left empty and pondering-

I set the wrong rule.

Can I beg? Would it be

the one thing finally?

(Words poured like water upon sand)

Now that I can see

exactly what you were writing?

We laid it out

you and me

crazy fucks

couldn't we see?

Oh, I am sorry

I feel it desperately

(So much more than I could stand)

Now that I can finally see

exactly what you were writing.

Deep Water Friends

DEEP WATER FRIENDS
(4-5-08)

Deep Waters,
Shade the sadness within.
So much pain,
Seen and Unseen.
Confusion and Regret,
Altering reality,
All part of her being.
So much in Common,
So much unforseen,
She carries her life,
With Great Burden.
I’m not going to save her,
I’m not in that business anymore.
She’ll save herself,
Through the Samson I know dwells inside her.
When the smile and laughter,
Come out of the Clouds,
It lifts both our souls.
If only for a moment,
The Deep Waters Brighten,
And the Friendship itself,
Deepens.

river

It must be very easy for you

to always play to the river,

to just brush it all aside,

at the final moment.

Like running a hand through your thick, dark hair

before another chip is thrown.

Do you see me as I see me?

An equal player, deserving of my buy in?

I can match you, I won't fold.

I hardly proceed with trepidation.

So then, how is it so easy?

Is it the game you like to play?

Is it in the cards you draw

from your magicians wrist?

That flick of the wrist

so quick

so slight

and you're gone, poof.

And I'm left applying glue

to your house of cards.

Why does it get prolonged so?

We should have folded

and backed away from the table

but we get so involved, it becomes a disgusting display

and we always play

to the river.

f(r)iend

A wrinkle on your finely tailored shirt,

A fly on your vast white-washed wall.

Fine, I'll sit and behave and merely observe, as usual.

Don't boast to me anymore, however

Don't lift yourself to heavenly heights that you cannot possibly reach.

Don't become the despised and hated one.

Remember, I'm observing

It may be a mere gesture

but its usefulness extends beyond

what your narrow mind is capable of.

You can drink all the wine you'd like

flaunt your so-so society wares and

fake it all, if you want

just stop doing it in front of me.

I have my ways.

I never pretended to be nice.

It may come back to you, ten fold.

Poetry on Tuesday! 12-4-07

REDEMPTION
12-4-2007


The reality of growing old,
Is one that haunts our thoughts.
We change our age,
Ignore our ailments,
Sit back,
And watch,
As others pass on to grace.
Funerals,
Don’t get so hard to attend.
Distance forms,
Between ourselves,
And the ones we love.
We can blame it on our work,
Or our absentmindedness,
Or some addiction,
And continue the walk of our choosing.
Soon you find yourself,
In that place of dread.
Loneliness abounds,
Fear strikes us,
Reality lands upon our head.
How can I go back?
The answer is simplicity itself.
Me.
I had the mind to follow this path.
I have the mind to turn around,
To follow it back.
It may get ugly on the way,
But Redemption,
Is not for the light of heart.
My mind won’t be haunted for long.

The Writer

I need a muse

(The writer mused)

I've been betrayed

My mind is frayed

I've lost my touch for words.

Goodness only knows

What is a poet

Without his prose?

Upon the early morn,

Heavy lidded

And beard unshorn

I spied an angel

In the mist

The glow of sun

Would gently kiss

A golden curl upon her cheek

Eyes of blue, piercing, deep.

Oh! To call out to her

To run to her and reach

To touch that fairest

Softest of cheeks!

Those golden curls!

Unforgettable such entrapment would deem

My fingers could only dream!

Forage around the betrayal of my mind

I need peace and woe is mine

In the depths of the darkness there is something there

Burning and burning without hesitation or care

I do feel the warmth,

It encircles me

And quill to parchment

Finally beckons me.

I have become one with the words,

The world is on fire

For this fair maiden

Fuels my only desire.

Thank you, dearest one

Your kindness cannot be outdone

Within the scope of my imagination

You will always be immortal,

Not a centerpiece of infatuation.

lies upon lies.

building upon a foundation of nothing
the artisan's work collapsed.
surprise?--no, it makes sense.
for one cannot build something on nothing,
even if nothing has a facade
a veneer more glorious than even reality.
but that's what i did, foolishly misled
by the lying face of nothing, your nothing.
and though i tried to manifest
this nothing into something, still it
remained blank.

and nothing has changed, except now--
this tower has come crumbling down,
babel! babel! irrational belief in
nothingness.
and now up is red and down is eight
for nothing makes sense and we are all
from sodom, from gomorrah, and babel
and russia and england, and cultures
crash. the mafiosos line up only to vanish,
all because they lived their lives on this space
reserved for nothing but lying about everything
a regular siren.
but now the rock is on top and the siren beneath
so that all is an extension of the sweet song
that leads us astray.

epiphanies lead nowhere--realizing this limbo
is just that and nothing more is too much
and so we return to sodom and babel
to be who we were, ignorant and joyous;
puppets of the great mafioso in the sky.

Your Good Graces (10-26-07)

I'm always looking,
To please you.
I want you,
To be Happy.
I'm always striving,
For you to be proud of me.
I wish I could have somehow,
Earned your respect.
It's so hard,
To live up to,
What I think you expect of me.
Pushing,
And Toiling,
And Straining,
And Trying,
And Living.
These things I supposedly have to do,
Just to stay in your good graces.
I think I'll be myself from now on.

The Auction House

trinkets and paintings
old books and movie posters
marble figurines

the new and the old
items of great sentiment
once cherished and loved

spirits of the past
ghostly tales of times long gone
live in each treasure

the bidding begins
alacritous responses
and the gavel falls

My first post in awhile.

I saw you at forty years old today.
The age was clearly etched in your face.
I saw the fatigue, the
change in your presence;
you look...good...
for the time that's passed.

Any doubt about your
identity was erased when your
eyes--pure, clean, penetrative--
probed my soul, and you
laughed inwardly at my terror.

It isn't fair. Your experience
and full life is evidenced
in all your weathering.
But I--I am still young.
And empty.
It's so obvious
that in your life
you have moved on.
My heartbreak, however:
it is frozen in
an awkward adolescence.

Fallen Leaves

F A L L E N L E A V E S
written Sept. 12, 1997


Gently fallen leaves
Broken amputated pieces of the trees
What stories they must tell!
Way up high
In the clouds--
Staring down on the world
Like a majestic queen.



What might they say?
Breezes thick with poison--
Cool drink from the sky burns...
Gently fallen leaves
Scarred--
Gently they fall in the poison breeze,
Whispering their tale to me...
What stories they must tell.

endless sea of indignity...

endless sea
of indignity
caught in the waves
i almost caved
swayed by the verse
the sad, sad curse
played havoc with my heart
tears my soul apart
so i run from it
and alone i sit
away from the sounds
your voice resounds
inside my head
and i dread
that endless sea
of indignity
wounded my pride
so i tried
to inflame your ego
made jest your libido
all so sad
yet admittedly glad
that i found out
what you're all about
before i swam the endless sea
of your indignity

Daddy Long Legs...

a daddy long leg
casts the tiniest shadow
mirthlessly it crawls

Air

It’s all up to you, my friend.

In your eyes I see the weight of your world.

Large, caring, excited and yet, sometimes, dark.

Drastic it becomes until you can’t find the peace.

Pieces of the sky surround you.

The power you hold is immense, too immense for someone so young.

Swirling around your head, gentle halos of warmth,

Golden and red leaves sparkle within you and I see the light.

It’s possible to become what you are supposed to be.

Fear holds you back and you stop, suddenly.

Take a breath, become one with the air and realize -

It’s not something learned, it’s all inside.

In My World 10-02-07

In sync,
With Life’s vibration.
Being able,
To pay the bills.
When you’re,
Happy doing your job.
There is,
No arguments between your loved ones.
Your friends,
Don’t stab you in the back.
World War,
Doesn’t happen.
Soldiers,
Are actually ambassadors.
Everyone,
Is healthy around you.
Drama Queens,
Do not exist.
Your faith,
Is rock solid.
Your body,
Is just the way you like it.
The Mind,
Has the time to think.
The door,
Can remain unlocked.
Reconciling past,
With who you've become.
The singing,
Of nature can be heard.
That warm feeling,
Of being Loved.
These things,
In a sum,
In my world,
Are Peace.

Fourth of July

It was near the time of the fourth of July
I was left standing high and dry

I had nothing left and nowhere to go
So I sat on a beach in Mexico
The tequila burned
The water churned
and the waves hit high
And I hoped that, maybe, I could touch the sky.

He strolled up to me
and held my hands in his grasp

He said, "baby lets move-
this place is getting old fast."

We drove outta there without a moment to spend
on times gone by and broken dreams to mend.
More tequila poured under the hot setting sun
life on the verge; reality undone.

I remember that day, it was the fourth of July
Somewhere in Cali the colors lit the sky
But there in the south it was only us and the moon
and I knew in time it would be over too soon.

Sometimes I wonder if I knew what I had
When the time turned good after being so bad
that wonderful time under the Mexican sky
Somewhere near the fourth of July.

Poetry off the cuff on Tuesday (lol)

The Trek (8-14-07)

Striving forward
Toward the sea
Of tranquility
Awesome twists
Of life
Razor thin Lines
Called decisions
Litter our way
Feasting on love
Gorging on laughter
Stopping only
When there's shared time
Isolation of the brain
Wounds us more
Than we are led to believe
The trek is our focus
Look back
and Forgive,
Never
Forget.

Lets Talk

Lets talk a little, shall we?

The chair is empty.
There is room.
No need to feel encapsulated
It's from Ikea. It works.

Pour me another glass of wine
and yourself one too.
Light a smoke,
Hell, even a toke

it's ok, if you'd like.

Sit here with me,
behind grinning lights
and spinning engines
and we'll come to something-

anything.

Because time is not on our side-

anymore.

It's flown the coop and I can guarantee
this bottle won't last another hour.

Don't bother apologizing.
It's really quite ok.
Just smoke and drink and fade to black
as long as you talk.

There's no reason to drag it on
we can finally find a reason for all of this
and move on
or move forward
but I won't move back.

Frozen in My Mind (6-26-07)

They're there for some unknown reason,
I'm sure everyone has them.
Hell, maybe not.
Mere portions of a second,
That last a lifetime.
I feel small,
In their wake,
In intervals.
The Past,
The Present,
The Future,
All connected,
By the moving pictures,
That are my experiences.
They're pieces of my time,
Frozen in my mind,
Melting only when I see past them,
For what they have taught me.