poetry

the summer’s ending

poetry

the summer’s close
is drawing near
and i would like
nothing more
than to dig in my heels
and stay right here
in the glorious summer,
reminiscent of my youth,
where there is no work
and there is no time,
where responsibility
is just a word
and does not concern me,
at least for the summer,
the beautiful summer
where anything is possible.

memorial definitions

poetry

you were the kindest person
i had ever known,
and you just so happened
to also be a conniving lier,
lying to everyone
for who knows how long,
lying to yourself
to keep your self-perception focused
on the good that you did
on how you served everyone unceasingly
on how you gave openhandedly
on how you loved unabashedly
on how you always put others first;
until that one night when
for once you acted
for yourself
alone,

with a .45 to the brain.

does that change
who you were?
who you are?

change

poetry

i’d like to imagine i’m
politically progressive, yet
yesterday i changed my own oil
and became a man.
I slid beneath the car
as if entering some secret
mancave, the license plate
transforming into a NO GIRLS sign
I peered into the mechanical intricacies, nodding
in acknowledgment of the innate knowledge
embedded in My Y-chromosome
and I set to work
with the solemnity of a samurai
some time later I emerged
cleaning My hands with the greasiest of rags
these oil stains becoming the lifeblood of the vanquished
evidence of excess testosterone.
now, Come, women:
bask in my musky glory.

Have I posted this before?

poetry

If someone asked what life is about,
I would say things small
[cheese or roses like
aromatically nice or genuinely sharp]
most of the time
a huge blur
a poignant question
a horizon or a ceiling with your soul stuck
Just let the cork go free
pour the wine down the throat
laugh, gurgle and spit
your desires away

a little about you – with some help from a old family friend we called websters but whose real name also included a merriam

poetry

you are exalted or worthy of complete
devotion as one perfect in goodness and righteousness
of, relating to, or proceeding directly from God
you are having great power, prestige, or influence
you are great in deed or exalted in place
you are marked by stately grandeur and lavishness
and exceptionally superior in kind, quality, or appearance

Words

poetry

I’m at a loss for words
But all I have are words
I can’t describe in words
The words to make you understand
Would you know what I mean
If I were to SHOUT!
Or would you only see
Capital letters and a word?
Would you know that I’m screaming?

robot bop

poetry

at the robot bop we dance
with concepts and ideals
and have luminescent skin
why,
at the robot bop you’ve
got wings of telephone
wires and valium
(lots of valium)
you see,
before the robot bop begins
we must tie off all our ends
we must certainly sleep-in
and make all our ammends
cuz the robot bop don’t stop
for nobody.
why,
the robot bop lives in the fourth
dimension
where they do the bop all day
smiles around the lot
hands all up in the sky saying
“we love life so we don’t try!”
ah,
the robot bop dance is fun
for all the robots.

shmampire

poetry

my condition shows itself not
lest the axis of the earth should be
slightly altered to the left

for then the

moon might shine through these
trees at night and illuminate
my once pale thoughts

my mom says i don’t toot… she says if i average a 9-10 on a scale of 1-10 it doesn’t qualify as a toot… its just straight up a fart. i think she’s wrong. i can toot if i want to. i can leave those farts behind. because those farts don’t fart and if they don’t fart well then, they’re no toots of mine

poetry

this milk makes me toot
and forces me to eat
yogurt on my cereal

a prospect just fine on paper
but so sour i’d prefer to toot

so i’m reintroducing
the bugs my body hates
slowly day by to day
to win the battle i lost so many
years ago

two weeks ago today,

poetry

the unbelievable happened,
surprising all who heard,
leaving only questioning thoughts
of the “what the fuck?” type,
along with tears,sighs,moans,groans…

two weeks ago minus a day,

enlightenment happened,
burying all who loved her
in a grave of information,
learning her history,
that most had never known,
bringing more tears,sighs,moans,groans…

two weeks ago today,

the inevitable happened
and she went away
for (her?) good,
leaving everything and everyone
behind and alone with tears,sighs,moans,groans…

Guilt

poetry

I’m having trouble
Com-pre-hen-ding
What it is you’re saying
Speak up!
You’re whispering.
Shut up!
You’re shouting.
No, I don’t
Need to explain myself
To you
Can’t I just go to bed already?

E, E,

poetry

The difference between
Extracting and
Extrapolating:

The one bears the
end result,
the other counts the
potential
for the one

Do we extract our
poetry, or
extrapolate?

Are these words worth
the thoughts they’re
meant to convey?

Or are we simply counting
our (un?)limited
potential?

pretty bones

poetry

you said “stay stay
if only for a day”
but you closed the
door may i ask what
for?

your twisted dream was
so serene you’d not wake
up for even a scream
when i poked the glass
and it shattered and
crashed oh what an
awful scene

but

nonetheless

i comprehend the frightening
trend of living without a means
to an end
you took my love put it in
a glove and grabbed at
things that i thought were dumb
so here’s to all the time i spend
in my mind,
end over end
delving into the folly of men,
the purpose of skin,
the condition we’re in,
how you’ve fallen victim to this
awful pose,
and in the end, i suppose
i broke my teeth on
your
pretty
bones.