poetry

one time RC was in russia and took a picture of “Wine in ass.” – this inspired me.

poetry

animal fat congealing
forming solid mass on the surface of the
pepper red soup fondue
like feet on a swiss ball
you’d never indulge yourself to eat
and curdled blood served as a delicacy
sometimes you just need
liver diced into meat flowers
a little chicken foot
pig snout
or dog meat in your soup
to brighten your day
or keep you warm in the winter
like feet on a swiss ball
you’d never indulge yourself to eat

until you do
and find what smells like gym socks
tastes like candy

Thus, I became the Dust in the Poor Man’s Home

poetry

If living is living in the moment
Lord, it is so hard to make a second count,
it is hard to breathe in and [not] let go

There is this pain I can’t suppress or talk about
(you’ve got to mourn quietly after a while),
I’ve let it linger too long.
Maybe it would be better to go the bottom,
slide and disappear.
Gently, without noise
like the dreams that should have remained silent and
hidden in the teeth of the night.

Growing old must be hard

poetry

Perhaps among the top
10 crappy plights with
which the elderly suffer
from day to lengthening
day, is sitting across
a table/room/bed/couch
from their grandchildren
who want to talk but
know not what to say
because they can’t ask
someone who never leaves
their house, who can not
do anything different or new
“what have you done lately”
or “what will you do today.”

A Man for and With Others

poetry

I am no longer a student
But a scholar A follower
Of the teachings of Ignatius
My life is changing rapidly
To transform into a new
Being of competence
To show the world my best

What am I to become?
What am I in four short years?
What am I in my prime?
What am I when I move on to the other half of life?

I answer you now

I shall become
A Man for and With Others
I will be
A Man for and With Others
I shall succeed as
A Man for and With Others
When I leave this place I’ll be still
A Man for and With Others

dreams i tell you, dreams!

poetry

the dreams i have
of jealousy
of hope and fame

dreaming of hope – i know its sad

they lead to things
like life again and again
i’m reminded
not to take things
for…
granted, i have things

hands being held
waiting for the next good picture
to present itself to me
in words
so i can know what color to paint it
and on what canvas
or 100% non-recycled paper

the greats?
they cut down trees and drew
their masterpieces