Sunday, January 25, 2015


The days melted into wine colored rust that flowed through my veins like pouring rain down the gutter which was what I was and I felt in fibers of my being that I did not even know that I had and the pain in the form of mental anguish was too great to differentiate from the screaming bowels of hell so I dropped it all and caressed the moon

Then there was nothing but the hard hearted aching of my soul as I realized that death’s grip would truly be my release from the devastating reality of the horrible pain that awaited in a mind gone wild that angels feared and demons lusted for

I was pain

I was the holy endings of the wretched snaking willowy cauldron of vaporous hauntings that chill the bones of the insane in locked away places that dare not be revealed to simple minds

I existed only to suffer and seemed to want to feel the burning of an unkept mind was I not so blind that I could not not see the sadness in wrinkled foreskin and decaying nails and stretched elongated hairs twisting in hot winds of the inferno

Never meant to smile only being deluded enough to look at others and pretend that I was someone too and not the empty shell that wondered among them unable to make human contact I was the true waking walking even breathing death that serves as warning to unsettled minds

Blow me away and never let my like come your way again for I have nothing

Saturday, January 24, 2015

The Forever Jealousy

I died so many times when I first knew you
And you were with other men and I
Had to imagine them touching you
Loving you
You danced with them and kissed them
And of course you….
It ate me alive swallowing me in great
Did you think them handsome?
Smart and sexy?
Interesting and funny?
While I drank and simmered and moped
And stared at emptiness
My life a wreck
What secrets did you tell them?
How earnestly did you listen to them?
Did your tongue tickle their ears?
Did your hand hold their….?
And after
How long did you think of them after?
Could you still feel them inside you?
Did they call the next day and did you
Flirt some more?
The torture deep into my bowels
Swirling around my heavy heart
Down to my sphincter
I raged I cried I sunk into my sad self
Wailing angry impotence as I tried to talk to you
You just so polite and considerate
But me diffident and you bursting confidence
The ache eternal
Because still today with you here beside me
It comes back in great waves
Leaving me emotionally sick and pale
The forever jealousy

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Commuting Misery

Oh damn you accursed fate
That makes me wait these six minutes
On the subway platform
Curses to you for promising only a six car train
So that I may have to squeeze on to a small standing space
Among the foul and fetid masses who soil our public conveyances
The horrible indignity of standing here
Queued behind others weary from the days labor
Desperate to return to home and hearth
And a hearty meal
Damnation ten fold for so sporadically sending trains
And then ones that are so small
Here my tax money is wasted
Give me this day my daily reprieve
From commuting misery
At last the train

Sunday, January 18, 2015

Bartering With Angels

And the blood of love welled up in my heart with a slow pain. - Sylvia Path

Do you move between different worlds in your daily life? The interview asked Ingmar Bergman. His answer meandered a bit but you could tell the short version of it was: yes.

I live in the present
And the past
I live in my dreams
I live in my silence and the loud crash of the world bearing in on me
I live in conflict and serenity
I live with you and I live alone
I live
Yet my dying never stops
Nor does wrenching pain of reality and the inevitability of endings
The mad wonder of revelations and surprises and miracles

(I am constantly confused by the contented soul
Who accepts everything and challenges nothing and
Never stops to ask anything of life
Let alone to demand
Their metaphorical bellies protrude
As they bask in the warm glow of their televisions
And stare steely eyed at flickering images
And listen unquestioningly to repeated slogans
How resolute in their own ignorance)

Dancing with poets is the life for me
The deadly frightening awe inspiring gripping insanity
Of pure elation mixed with searing psychological torment
Tip toeing on knife edges
Bartering with angels
Careening over the abyss and rising above the clouds
Never caring which

I don’t remember yesterday as well as I do 200 years ago
I can better plan my afterlife than tomorrow
I suck on the marrow of metaphor
As I defy this very moment and live in between other times

Crowns of glory I wear
While wallowing in self pity and melancholia
And spitting at the celestial messengers
You and I are the same
We are part of the stars
And they are part of us
And the universe lives within our blood flow
And we are god

Monday, January 12, 2015

The Weight of Living

The weight of living
Yet the freedom of feeling unmoored
Floating heavily
Sinking up towards angels
While ghosts promenade
Sorrowful nights and melancholy days
All words failing yet flailing
Buttressed by significance
And never caring that meaning is lost
Dustings of happiness
Made bleak by the overwhelming pain
And still I wonder as I wander
Through the maze of curiosity
That wrenches my soul
And calls asunder
Significance in all that lies ahead
Meaningless moments that tear away
Is the preponderance of cries
Echo through my heart
And I tumble into another deep dark void
Careless again
Such pain

Sunday, January 11, 2015

Making Angels out of Houseflies

Over used adjectives
The world totters and teeters
And when everything is grand
Nothing is
I do not accept your hyperbole
That was great
It was doing
It was being
It was life
Finding the incredible in the ordinary
Is living out of reality
Making angels out of houseflies
People come and people go
People do and people slow
There is beauty in the act
Not in the overblown description
It was a crazy week
No we were busy
That's all
This poem was not wonderful
It was just it

Saturday, January 10, 2015

Some Things

Tea kettle
Afternoon ritual
Daily commute
Dancing alone in the house
Bergman films
Museum closed
Basketball team warming up
Tape recorder
Neurosis instead of facing reality
Crab salad
Cat dashing from street to driveway
A novel in your hands
Child giggling
Sweating after a run
Finishing cleaning
Rhythm section
Cloud bank over the bay
Smiles from strangers
Warm sweatshirts
The door opening wife walks in

Monday, January 5, 2015

Poetry 101

Quickly dashed off poem about daily mundane inanities
Too obvious references to people who are caricatures
Desperate attempts at wit
All is smugness
Descriptions of weather with the word redolent
Or slate gray sky
Cute lines about kisses or pets or children
Sentimental hogwash about lovers in parks
Detailed descriptions of kitchens
Flights of fancy about dreams or angels
Forced rhymes
Political simplicities masked as righteousness
Philosophical musings befitting a middle schooler
Rants raves and critiques about the long forgotten
Similes and metaphors and half parables
Geez I wish I could write all that stuff

Sunday, January 4, 2015

As the Devil Sighs

The devil sighs
As lives are fragmented
The tearing rendering of souls
Lost to plights unknown
The sad deaths of happy folk
As the devil sighs
Pain deep and hard
The trembling of angels
As dark clouds pour emptiness
There is no rain
As the devil sighs
Wonder of wonder in the deep
Wretch reap plead and cry
Where there are no answers
There is no life
As the devil sighs
We look ever onward
Seeing nothing
Feeling everything
Understanding only bits
Deciding on the rest
There is no love
As the devil sighs

Saturday, January 3, 2015

Desire and Lust of Course

Loving someone and not sure why
Maybe the late Saturday afternoon wind knows
We are young she is beautiful there is
Lust of course
It feels like it could go on forever
Like it should go on forever
Overwhelmed by feelings
The awful wonderful hurt of longing and loving
And wanting and needing and
Lust of course
There have been others
For her not many
Me too many and I have gotten high too often
For her though
Maybe I can be another better version of me
Maybe I can be what she wants
Coursing through my body is the wonder of it all
Stuck in the dusk melancholy
Tasting her breath touching her hand lightly
Lust of course
She is a serious person
I seem frivolous but I do make her laugh
I do entertain and delight and intrigue
And evoke
Lust of course
But can she see a future with me
I can’t think of anything but
A future with her
There is no vision of this being
Anything but perfect
Am I just a diversion
The wind is stronger outside now
The dark air is cold
People are coming into houses
Preparing for dinners
Dressing for evenings out
I coo in her ear
Will she even give me tonight
When I want her forever
My body trembles at the thought of loss
My imagination tears at me
With the thought of her with another
But she is mine for now
I get a kiss and feel
Lust of course
This drama will go on
I will ache in my soul