losing battle

October 27, 2014

wrestled today with the things
I was unsure I wanted or needed
the feelings I had about where to go,
how to get there, or even where to start

stopped wrestling
rested

found I was being pinned down in
a losing battle as the referee
hit his hand to mat and said I was out

And with each long breath
I suck them down,
spiraling down my rasped gullet
to my pulsing, flexing guts

These spirits chill me completely,
to the center of my very bones,
and I only hope I give them
any warmth at all,
for all their trouble

I think of threshing out
a new life in a jungle somewhere

where you only worry about
Dengue and venomous
everythings

The parking fines are low

Near non-existent,
I would guess

Of course,
so is the parking

I wish to go a-sailing
and ride high tides and
low swells while the ship
I cling to dearly sways
to and fro and port and
starboard

while I stare down deep
through the roiling froth
and flashing wash I
would start to know
that my wit and strength
and even my love is an
overstatement

as my muscles tense and
my eyes begin to water
I will understand
between a great blue sky
and a great green sea
how absolutely
paltry
I am

then the angels would glance
down, and so, ‘Look at my ship!’
I would say

but they would glance
away from me, again

because absolutely paltry
is an overstatement, too
among these crashing waves

wasting potential

October 2, 2014

i will leave you on the shelf
fresh and new in your wrapper
but i will shop here every day
and buy anything but you

every day i will scan the isles
just to catch a glimpse

sure, i could take you home
unwrap you and use you
find all the things that make you great
but also the shortcomings
of your design

i’ve come to hate my own tastes
anyhow
and i’m sure i would treat you
no better than i treat myself

even the illusion of you
deserves more than me

so i will leave you on the shelf
shiny and wrapped up
i will shop here every day
and the distance between us
will feel like miles, to me
just another nameless face
at the store.

the wolf on wall street 2

September 25, 2014

now i will tell you about
the wolf on raymond st

i had been holed up blissfuly
in my home for who knows how long

i heard you howling outside
caged by my spineless greed

and i hiding away from the
relentless cold wanted to check
to make sure you were still living
boxed and forgotten in my back yard

startled at the cold, yet the
only one willing to brave it

a child of maybe 12 wincing at
the truth of your morbid reality

you had always greeted me with warmth
even when in the most bitter cold

your water-bowl had been frozen over
for days, possibly weeks

i would refill it, only to forget
again and let it freeze over surely

and you were always a wolf, to me
wild as the virtue of nature

and in the dead quiet winter night
an unwilling accomplice to torture
i sat with you and tried my best
to beg forgiveness, crying

and one night i saw you
climb clear over the fence
and unflinchingly sprint
into the night

like the truth in world
full of liars.

on 26

September 17, 2014

he changed his surroundings and then
they changed him in a cycle that would
spit out each year for evaluation an
entirely unanticipated product

engineers could not figure out
this mechanism

“and here we see”
it was mused
“our 26th variant.
this organism which had built a hut
from dinosaur bones and aspired to
dominate its surroundings has since
put on considerable weight,
lost all appetite,
and lost all vision and drive.”

at what point
they wondered
do we cancel such an expirement?

never, said the boss
who colluded with the stars to
what ends no one could imagine

“let him stew in his own filth,
as he is doing now
and if he dies from it,
make note.”

“note down what?”
asked one of the engineers

“everything he ever thought and did”
said the boss.

“if we don’t get it right this time
at least we won’t have wasted data.”

the engineers scoffed at this idea

from their perspective,
this one organism had no worthwhile data
to note

the organism, however,
agreed with the boss
although neither of them
knew it. the 26th variant
would hear these things in
his sleep
every night
but could never remember
his dreams well enough
to break the endless cycle.

the humble spud

September 14, 2014

oh humble potato
my hero in the dirt
destined to fulfill thy purpose
and free from the burden of ambition which so oft hampers it.

oh humble potato
destined to fulfill they purpose
my hero in the dirt

Femme-enfant

September 1, 2014

I wish you’d grow up… my mother said
not because I’m irresponsible but because i am a petulant child
slow to grow up-
I marvel at the smallest things
i still run around the house, i do not walk to the fridge i run to it
i dance unsightly dances and laugh silly- laugh hysterically, talk, clap my hands
and jump up when I’m super excited (never outside my home, though i sometimes slip up)
i interact with TV, have conversation with inanimate things
i name things, my car has a name, my kettle,… generally things i like, things i am attached to
I have few teddy bears that I like to hold (only show them to people i’m close to)
I dream of living in a tree house, time traveling and meeting an alien named “Voila”
and i think it can happen or it is happening somewhere already because i secretly
believe thoughts are living things- and someday i will go to a place where my happy thoughts and dreams have settled.

but my mother wish, I’d grow up ( though she likes that I’m joyful)
that is that I’d be more “womanly” (in my choice of clothes, in my approach to life in general)
that i’d be a tiny bit cunning, competitive, and worldly- that I’d want things that most adults go for
or that at least I’d have “regular” dreams
of prince charming or marrying a nice/decent guy, have children-
a “successful” life in short
I know she means well, so i take in the good intention and forgo the vexation
for she wishes me the happiness she knows
and I am still looking for mine and i do not think it hinges on prince charming, money or status
not that there are such things as small or regular dreams-
dreams that you dream define you,
my most cherished dream is to be more open, loving and compassionate
regardless of where my choices lead me
but i know, for as long as i live, i will gobble down
candies, moist cakes and, hot chocolates
(and enjoy it better than the finest of liquor)
while smiling happy (toothless?) smiles

you don’t dare look your mother told you it is a monster when i open my chest wide to let out the pressure and in a moment i cannot feel the shame woah it is just me and the beast born in me which to me is an old, clever friend who licks at my face and wags its tail and jumps around on me, it’s negligent captor, only knowing of its cage and its surroundings and that i am never home with it or let it out to be pet glad to see me, like i am its father, and in the darkness it is a cruel beast with red eyes pretensed though that is i cannot disagree, much, and yeah maybe i admit that it is a bit monstrous and yeah maybe i admit it needs the cage, the malnutrition the snaps of anger i have when you walk into the room and it growls, and grumbles, and shakes its rusty cage, for the sake of civility and sanity and all of the rest but what i find to be curious and what i know to be true and what really drives me nuts and what really doesn’t seem fair is how the dark ages for me are like a renaissance for you and you parade your monsters all around town on thin leashes disregarding the damages done and it doesn’t seem fair, not one bit, for me to live in shame and hide this natural human-monster that wants only to eat and eat until it is full, and be carnivorous, and do all the bad things that your monsters secretly crave YES I WILL SAY IT your creature secretly craves this one to be let out, maybe only leashed, but even sometimes then let off growling and snorting and sniffing the dirt on your body looking for a place to lick clean of nutrients and then move right along to the next.

K.J.

August 22, 2014

When I was younger
than I am now,
I’m sure I was a fool.

I am sure of it
for I have fooled myself
for some time,
it seems.

So I guess I’d like to say
that I’m sorry
if I ever worried you
but I meant every word
that I said,

and I know that,
sometimes,
words are scary.

So I see you now
through the proverbial
windows of a proverbial
ice cream parlor

and you’re on the other side
and you’re walking fast
and I’m happy for us both, I think;
I went driving hours ago
and you’re not stuck
behind the register

robin

August 12, 2014

you leave the angel in your bed for the street
afraid that she will wake up
and want more than light-beams for blankets

you know the rent is not due
and all-around people love your pictures
but they can’t love you
not even you love you

in your eyes are the shadows of 23,000 ghosts
give or take
and as the madness sets in
you don’t know what is more real

maybe my couch would not have been good enough
for you
even if we talked all night
maybe your back was crooked beyond the repair of
any doctor
maybe it is like that

for all of us, one day

and only those who like the pain
fight through it

but what you didn’t know, robin
is that you held the hope of the world
and if your eyes saw enough
well
what are mine good for?

Rider on the Storm

July 9, 2014

Last February
I saw a man in a top-hat
ride a tornado through the center of town

It was quite a spectacle
and if I wasn’t so sure we were real
I’d have chocked it up to a most excellent
CGI program

He rode out the other end of town
after just a few moments of his
monumental display,
knocking over garbage cans and even
tearing the soft roof from a parked
sports car

He was cackling with glee while
my friends and I stood and watched
and whistled through our teeth saying
Boy, I wish that was me right now.

i would reach into our mother’s womb
untagle your cords and
strangle the heavens

i would spend my time
not as a child
but a wise mentor

instead of tripping you
face-first into the table
i would catch you
in all manners of speaking
in every extensive metaphor
i would catch you

but i would give it to you straight
because i knew you could take it
because you’re fucking Jesse James
and in a past life

you were the baddest

i would show you how to lift the world as a whole
we would grow up together
and plot and scheme

good god would we plot and scheme

with our backs together

if i could make time travel backwards
and lift up all this rain
i would do it just for you,

my brother.

So after your tenth straight day
coughing and burning and
you realize you forgot how to sleep

That’s when it hits you
all at once. That’s when you realize
you’re hardly fit to be tied

Not worth the trouble to be troubled,
the commitment to be committed.

You are useless.

A wretch on the street
like a whale in a desert,
like a terrified monkey flailing
in an infinite sea

Except you’re too tired
to be terrified. You can’t even swim.

All the more useless.

i thought if someone asked me right now
i would start over at that beach

and maybe i would do everything differently
or maybe i would try and keep it the same
but i would know if someone came to take me

back to floribama
instantly

my mind spends time there
sometimes
i freeze as i peer out
to the part of the beach that
curves around to just more
ocean on the other side
like we had reached the
end of the land
sun beating down my face
ocean breeze whipping around
right before the first love
that i had known since loss
crumbled in my hands

and maybe i would watch it crumble
or maybe i would stop to save it
i can’t know now
but i would know, instantly
if someone came
to take me.

I’m growing up slowly
step by step bits by bits
i’m getting a better grasp of what it is to be alive
though my heart is still immature
though my mind has yet to focus my thoughts
on what’s good -
and desires to conquer and win blurry my sight
Though sadness like a 5th season comes with
a flurry of despair,
i will not yield to or lapse into darkness
there is so much beauty left in this world
I will gather courage and borrow some of God’s strength
Surely, i too can bloom
with sunshine
i can bear good fruit:
“Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness and
Self-control”

urinal bug

June 27, 2014

you don’t know that you are

the bug in a urinal

 

standing by your broken car

on romence when the great flood

comes

 

even in hollywood

they will all scurry

with no horns playing

to add to the suspense

 

just bug screams

and the loudest sound you

ever heard

as the water come down

it’s poetry, baby

June 17, 2014

i come to you an oversized
ball of pretense
you think flies may be following me
my falling weight is just too
much for your bed springs
you can smell that i am drunk on
hormones
i burpingly lean to you
cold outside but cowering within
and vomit to you my innermost desires
of things that just cannot be
i talk to you like i am actually hunched
over a toilet
sometimes as my spine curls
it’s just thin air
and others it’s what i’ve ate
often you see blood come out

i know,
i don’t know why
you can’t stop
letting me in

i bring my head up and groan and you catch for a moment a shadow that looks healthy and young kind of like what i looked like before but then i waver and fall upon you mouth wide sucking on your skin sloppy drunk and smelling now of a mixture of disgusting neglected emotions and you know now that i am after that waterfall of validation that lies between your blank white pages

when i am sated
and i roll off you
you count the seconds
until i am asleep
and relish in the silence
who loved you before
and loves you still.

ground bone

June 13, 2014

now i sit
breathing and shitting still
staring at
a door with a plastic
wooden facade

boxed in
trying to keep quiet

while the world of thoughts
whirlwind around me
laying their judgements down
silently upon this
“bath
room”

and my eyes stare down
into the marble looking
composite-vinyl
and see an odd reflection
of myself

fat, tired
eyes
faded,
grey

what awful tricks the mind plays.

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