Wednesday, March 15, 2017

Elegy Melody

In the lonely dusk of yesterday
The lint fell from the heavens
I dropped to a knee
Supplication was my thing then
Writ large on the forever horizon
Were the vignettes of Claudius
So we shuffled into a bar
Where the drinks were purplish
We listened to Nixon talk of peace
While he ordered bombing babies and hospitals
(The tender cords of amnesia wrestled with us)
The bombs in Southeast Asia sent limbs flying
We heard the laughter emanating from the television
Silly were the situations and people on the tube
And they were interrupted by eternal detergent commercials
(Goya Garbo and Godard looked on as we waited for Godot)
This was the Kerouac of our Spring’s Discontent
And little did the peals of pain surmise
That Sherlock was lurking under the Redwoods
(Gone off the rails now)
Warmth enveloped our snow bound brains
LSD got us back to normal
We read the encryption software of Sundance
Lo the poseur we were on a tortilla high
More beans please and pass the peace and love
Understanding 2001 and 1984 and Catch 22 and 8 1/2
Misunderstanding Math and English and Science and History
The Beatles always The Beatles and more The Beatles
But crusty burgers in palatial cars did not satisfy
For we were the generation of cosmic understanding
Our super laconic waffles stolen by midgets
(Platitudes, platypus, plexiglass, posterior)
Left us under the spell of the news
A break in at the DNC in Washington
Our marijuana roaches of next week were thus foretold
So we had mad sex in millions of positions in millions of places
But with just thousands of people
Crooked angles of jet stream love sent us rapturous
We thirsted for more poetry and baseball and wine
While bombs and love exploded all over the elastic world
Earth — the planet in seven dimensions
Time to cry

Tuesday, March 14, 2017

Question Time for the Despondent

How many ways can I die today?

Are any of them nice, are any okay?
How could I end this sad little life?
Would a gun work or how 'bout a knife?
Is there reason for me to live longer?
Is there a chance that I’ll get stronger?
What is the point of another day?
Can there still be fun, can there be play?
Why continue enduring this sorrow?
Isn’t likely to be worse tomorrow?
Do I go on in such terrible pain?
Is there any purpose, anything to gain?
Is it possible to avoid despair?
Why should I try why should I care?
Could I still be happy again?
If that happens, what then?
How long would it last, how long would it stay?
Wouldn't I be sad again the very next day?
This pain makes it hard to see the good and the glad.
All I experience is the painful and sad.
Still I get up and go through my day,
I guess because I know no other way.

Tuesday, March 7, 2017

My Thoughts Exactly

The dull knife of sad perceptions
The filament dancing in moonbeams
All the troubles of the weighty norms
The raunchy song of sea-faring men
The little that grows and the big that shrinks
All the tangles and knots and pinafores
The favored daughters of conscientious kings
The mannered ways of an aloof miner
All the perceptions of yesterday’s musings
The determined glare of an icy locksmith
The gladdening memories of alchemists well met
All the darning socks twisting in the hurricane
These are all and not enough just like a long life

Friday, November 25, 2016

I'm Here

Here I sit The pain unbearable
But I must bear it Must keep going Can’t stop
Sorrow practically choking me
I feel as though I could die from this oppressive sadness
But my heart beats I am healthy Hilarious
 I’m healthy except for my mind

Crippled It is laborious to type this
 Minutes ago reaching for the remote control was impossible
It was less than an arm’s distance away
I type slowly now Everything is slow Ponderous
My speech is as if I was on thorazine

Beyond On the other side
Somewhere else there is difference Away from all this
The ocean, the sky, the clouds, fog, sun, rain, wind and snow
It is there As are birds and bears and deer and snakes and dolphins and moose and chickens and sharks and scorpions and pelicans
There may be angels too
Perhaps ghosts
Life Exultation The spirit of being and doing and feeling
The soft the heavy the hard the light the more the less the this the that the these and the those and the everywhere and nowhere and somewhere and something and nothing
 The multitude and the solitude The quick and the dead and the slow and the alive

Stars Always Moons.Planets Comets
Great phantasmagorical wisps of delight and terrains of agony and mountains of ennui and seas of celebration
I can experience and be much more than can be imagined
The human mind It is causing me great suffering now but I dare to remember when this wasn’t so and I dare to dream of when it won’t be again
Though it feels permanent it is not
I am still here and I do not yield
Yes, I hold my head in my hands and it is heavy
The weight of a billion thoughts and so much aching and metaphysical, psychotic raging dancing preening posing positing perplexing plexiglass Glances and chances and prances and ports of shadows and wharves of mystery and piers of melancholy

Oh the human taste and the waste
The human mind and the unkind
The ruffled Tousled Blithering Blathering
Bayside yawning glimmerings of kaleidoscopic wonder and blunder amid the virtuous and sacred and the sacrosanct piles of puffery
Wailing past peach trees and into sockets of clairvoyance
These are times and rhymes and chimes and I’ms and youze but not booze Off that No no Not ever and never wherever and clever and blown up dolls of climbing those stars

Hands in front of face I look into eternity and see everything the nothing of all in the cornucopia of emptiness. Blah!

But I’m still here

Saturday, August 20, 2016


Locked in
Hate it
The pain is
Suffer suffer suffer
Everything feels bad
Want nothing everything something
Need same
Pulling pushing pain
Throbbing dull ache of sorrow
It’s all bad
Very sad
I’m not glad
Stare at keyboard
I think it hates me
I think
I think maybe I deserve hatred
Want out
Want to escape to where happiness reigns
Want wanting wanted
Just awful
Shake it off

Monday, August 15, 2016


the dying self
the shelf
the constant pain
the drain
the tortured soul
the mole
the dreaded day
the way
the bleak mind
the grind
the end of joy
the toy
the lonely sigh
the cry

Friday, August 5, 2016

One More Chance

Dawn of a thousand crazy lights
Weekends full of blessed lazy nights
The rasping sound of my brain at work
The glittering madness of the tasks I shirk
All it is now it always was
And when I saw it I knew it twas
Gleaming, preening, leering and cold
Getting off on thoughts so bold
I cry the same song
Live the same wrong
I tuck in the police of my mind
And to the periwinkle I am kind
There goes and blows and toes
I like it this way goodness knows
I cannot eat the dreams of yore
But into my lustful meditation insanity I pour
It is the golden age of all the rage
And I’m yet ready to turn the page
The do’s and don’ts and can’ts just swell
And I tell the evil donut masters to go to hell
These are the days of the angel dance
Please oh Mother Nature give me one more chance