I write poetry, short stories, and journal entries about my family, friends, crime, drama, and sometimes life.
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
In Picasso's Studio (Insp. by Gertrude Stein & Alice B. Toklas)
Less modern.
Something painful and beautiful there
and oppressive but imprisoned
Pale and at once bright
Unfinished and probably not finishable.
The queer danger of color;
Of art mixed with sexuality.
Unnatural.
We strive to be at odds with nature.
Do I want to unlearn humanity?
Nature is frightening and society keeps me safe.
Desire drives us to face nature;
It slaps our face for insolence
So some of us are not natural.
More modern; Less natural.
Hi tech/ lo brow, mass produced, cheap and plastic
Socially policed, censored, opaque and oblique
Outrage at the unnatural freedom of others
We are not like this and prefer the company of the
Socially inspired, in your face, offensive and obtuse, the
Intuitive, Intelligent, Individual, Immoral and Ingenious.
More modern; More natural.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Contra
Hate me if you want.
Get mad that I am different
That I came from some other place
That I look and sound separate from you.
Shake the bars of your mind
Or stomp your feet and yell
But don't expect me to leave
Or even shut my mouth.
I would like nothing better than
To use your words against you
To make you upset and confused
and look like a fool in front of whoever is handy.
Perhaps that is too much to ask.
If nothing else, I am contra.
I stand to juxtapose you and let others know
You're not as smart as you think you are.
I don't need you or anyone else to agree with me.
I don't need to be right all the time.
On the contrary, there is rarely only one answer
And I want you to admit it.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
The New Colossus
Was that a lie? Do people still believe that?
If slanted politics make my home unsafe for me, is there anywhere I can go?
Is there no place on the surface of existence where I can earn a living
and not be held responsible for sins of generations past?
If I agree to abide by the golden rule and obey basic laws, why am I not welcome?
If I pay my way and adopt your culture, your customs, your language, what then?
If I walk here for days through the desert just to shop in your stores and clean your plates,
Will you not let me stay?
If slanted politics make my home unsafe for me, is there anywhere I can go?
Is there no place on the surface of existence where I can earn a living
and not be held responsible for sins of generations past?
If I agree to abide by the golden rule and obey basic laws, why am I not welcome?
If I pay my way and adopt your culture, your customs, your language, what then?
If I walk here for days through the desert just to shop in your stores and clean your plates,
Will you not let me stay?
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Haiku Kung-Fu
In
a Bored Room
Back
in my art school
Never
thought I’d be using
Words
like synergy
Prosthesis
Chicken
wings on dog
Wheels
of polymer and steel
Now
flying down streets
New American Dream
Smack your girl around
Get arrested and famous
Do drugs and retire
4:15
Nervously
tapping
Legs
crossed tightly toward restroom
HOW
LONG IS THIS CLASS?
Tutoring
a 7 year old
Teaching
kids English
Was
not the plan but now it’s
Strangely
fulfilling
Labels:
american dream,
boredom,
chris brown,
class,
dogs,
English,
haiku,
poetry,
prosthetic limbs,
restroom,
synergy,
tutoring,
violence
Location:
Tempe, AZ, USA
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Universal Potential (Insp. by H.P. Lovecraft)
Potentially wrong.
Potentially bad…
Potential energies move grains of sand into
Odd patterns following waves on graphene
The beach is not a solar system or
Even a galaxy. The grains are not planets but
Subatomic particles appearing to be
Malleable. Laws can bend. Things can change.
Humanity is distracted; this does not change.
By movie-stars in tabloids and fashion shows,
By cheesy day-time television and on-demand
Pornography. Potentially wrong. Potentially bad...
By cheesy day-time television and on-demand
Pornography. Potentially wrong. Potentially bad...
Infighting between religions
Hate crimes between brothers
Wars between neighbors
No one trusts their doctors
Mothers could kill their children
Republics can rise and crumble
Planets revolve unaware and
Over the brink man shall tumble
Returning to the dust through which we trudge
The unceremonious death of an egotistical species
On a tiny rock, on an outer arm of a back-wood galaxy
Man dies, Earth dies, stars blink out and God never existed
Vast millions of planets continue revolving continue revolving
Einstein knows matter is not created or destroyed.
The cosmos are unchanged but no living being witnesses
The next big bang which perpetuates existence
The spark of life ignites in any dry forest over time
Energy cycles and begins where it once ended
Kinetic energy becomes potential
Potentially wrong. Potentially Bad.
Planets revolve unaware and
Over the brink man shall tumble
Returning to the dust through which we trudge
The unceremonious death of an egotistical species
On a tiny rock, on an outer arm of a back-wood galaxy
Man dies, Earth dies, stars blink out and God never existed
Vast millions of planets continue revolving continue revolving
Einstein knows matter is not created or destroyed.
The cosmos are unchanged but no living being witnesses
The next big bang which perpetuates existence
The spark of life ignites in any dry forest over time
Energy cycles and begins where it once ended
Kinetic energy becomes potential
Potentially wrong. Potentially Bad.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Melting Metaphors (Insp. by Wallace Stevens)
Get down to the marrow of it.
Truth is not prescribed for pain;
This uncertain light shakes the central
of my being.
In dark rooms of silence when I try to
rest,
I am soothed only by you, my gentle muse,
Imposing onto me the burden of discovery.
It is possible, possible, possible. You
must
Still your incessant lyre and allow me
Moments of peace. As in any Supreme Fiction
Peace is not the end but the beginning.
Auroras under the trees in autumn;
Feeling half dead, deserted on a beach.
It is white. The single bird, the obscure moon;
Lost and all at once in direct position
Between primary noon and the A B C of being.
There were ghosts that spoke the feeling,
Which was what they lacked.
Poesis, Poesis, The palm at the end of the mind.
Stripping this tree to stoke the fire fangled
Furnace in the early March wind
Of sleep’s faded paper mâché…
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Morning Thoughts
I am an insect pinned to the cork board of my bed.
My eyes barely flicker as the entire house vibrates from the
Motorcycle dealership across the street apparently having a sale.
The warm Saturday morning gives my neighbor the chance to be a
Rock star again and he beats furiously on his drum set while some
Mysterious friend plays along on a distorted bass guitar.
This is how the weekend will begin. Etherized on my bed,
Hungover, and way too enthusiastic about being home alone.
This is the worst part. The last ten pounds.
They cling to my waist for their putrid lives and
No number of skipped meals loosens their grip of me.
I go jogging twice a week. Push ups every morning.
I eat so little, I get dizzy. I'm scared to drive.
When I eat I feel so guilty. I'm just making it worse.
Yesterday, I had an apple and a tomato sandwich.
Today I'll leave off the mustard.
They cling to my waist for their putrid lives and
No number of skipped meals loosens their grip of me.
I go jogging twice a week. Push ups every morning.
I eat so little, I get dizzy. I'm scared to drive.
When I eat I feel so guilty. I'm just making it worse.
Yesterday, I had an apple and a tomato sandwich.
Today I'll leave off the mustard.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Lifting Belly (Insp. by Gertrude Stein)
Today I learned about a woman.
I read about a poet, long dead now
but alive and living in a person I know.
This poet loved language and wrote well
in a style I preferred not to read.
A man I respect loved this poet and he wrote about her
in a style more my own which spoke to me
and sounded vaguely like a girl I once knew; a poet herself
that once told me to write as well.
This girl I knew: she gave me the pot and this man: the seed.
I supplied the soil and the world: the water.
My work blooms now and I think of that girl from my past.
Were you someone else? Were you Gertrude? Was I earnest?
Beautiful. Beautiful. Beautiful. Beautiful.
No, I was always Hemingway but you were never Faulkner;
not like I thought.
You may not even be Stein; like I think now.
This is this.
Violently delightful dinner parties
sung to the tune of empty bank accounts.
No, you are not my competition, just the orientation.
But you have always been represented in my mind.
Ever since you worked to carry drinks in cups.
Drink im ups. Drink hipups.
A news is pressing. You did want me. Say it again.
Strawberry. Oversweet and moist and dangerous.
And if you please. And if they please. And they please.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
to Die and Live (Insp. by Ezra Pound)
My love, I've lost you - lost my center
Fighting the world and launching revolutions
And who would've thought that was the lesson?
Nickels and dimes in freefall in the saltmine
Of my wasted indulgent life.
With a bang. Not with a whimper.
When it happens, it will be in a pillar of flame
Trumpeted by the roar of tearing steel
And weeping maidens high on
A tangle of works unfinished.
With Usura (Insp. by Ezra Pound)
She stands and greets the class
With a confident smile
And fiery eye.
Speaking with passion and aplomb
Moving between topics like a bee
From flower to flower.
She cracks esoteric jokes
On fine art and fashion.
Twisting in the heels of expensive shoes
Sipping designer coffee from a lip
Stick stained cup.
Pause. Sip.
She finishes with a quote from Pound:
"...With usura the line grows thick"
Concluded. Smiled. Sat.
No one applauded.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Charcoal Metro Station (Insp. by Ezra Pound)
Give it up. Give it here.
Aren't there as many of us?
Aren't we equal?
Look upon us as outsiders
If you like to condescend;
We are the minority.
I am smart and articulate
Insightful and amusing.
I am a hero and a scientist
Useless to conquer or understand.
The painting passes from hand to hand;
But I never see it.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
School Haikus
Water Planet
Weather charts and rainfall
Patterns spread before the whole class
To see the globe warm
Albedo
The Sun beams light down
The Earth is getting hotter
The Heat gives us life
Hazy
Morning talks about
Evapotranspiration
I'm too high for this
Winter Clothes
Imagination
Better than reality
Where girls are concerned
Hollywood
We own everything
Vertical integration
Try and steal from us
Weather charts and rainfall
Patterns spread before the whole class
To see the globe warm
The Sun beams light down
The Earth is getting hotter
The Heat gives us life
Hazy
Morning talks about
Evapotranspiration
I'm too high for this
Winter Clothes
Imagination
Better than reality
Where girls are concerned
Hollywood
We own everything
Vertical integration
Try and steal from us
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Ideas of Symbolism (Insp. by William Carlos Williams)
No ideas but in things. Say it.
Because the best ideas have no ideas.
This is my idea, something devious and powerful and
When ideas occur, I altar my sense
Of what things are.
This is not a poem.
Ink on paper
not thoughts and emotions not love or guilt
The worm is in our brains and it changes matter
to something that matters
Rose≠Heart≠Love≠Change≠Improvement≠Construction
Pix-elated in a picture too detailed to notice
Plummet from a peak so tall the houses and farms and
cities and countries and continents and oceans are
Just patches.
Of green.
And grey.
And yellow.
And blue.
And white.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Friends and Felons (Insp. by Lewis Carroll)
Getting lazy:
I dreamed of the short haired girl with knobby knees
And the petulant pooch festered with fleas
Of a seductive siren with audible stutter
And being usurped by a younger brother
The sharks in the ocean that swim with glee
Come all at once and bear down on me
Going crazy:
Retreat to a place where no sane people go
Sexual freedom, friends, and drugs all in tow
Like your first day in Hell, it all seems droll
Until the host grabs knife and demands his toll
Some get upset, but most of them laugh
It's not a party of people but rather of raff
Crescendo:
They all come and go, avoiding to see
That their work reeks of forgery
Hushed whispers and secrets, masks and disguises
Hiding devils and despots of all shapes and sizes
The perverted truth left to seep from the seams
From a patchwork of plans and terrible schemes
Blame:
Accusations and assumptions turn saviors to serpents
Dump out their bags and search through the contents
Interrogate and torture all who might plunder
Mistrust is learned and deceit is their blunder
Muster our troops and prepare for attack
As defense fails and dark villains stack
She says:
Lock up the good; set the criminals free
I'll overwhelm them with lies and hypocrisy
The drugs and abuse make my comments so crass
That I'll smear my goodbye with lipstick on glass
Empty bottles of vodka and sharp shattered dishes:
My response to presents and kind Christmas wishes
I say:
Pass me the pills and say all your prayers
'Cause you will never have me or get my several deep layers
Take your psychobabble your buzzwords and put them on the shelf
'Cause my treasure, my precious is only myself
Try on new clothes and leave me to pay.
The bills stack up; lie that you'll pay me back someday.
Today:
The turtles and tadpoles tell over tea
of all these things and others to me
Dream instead of the light-hearted girl in the breeze
Or the loyal pooch in the shade of the trees
Feast on dark green veggies that spread like butter
and mumble soft calming whispers to soothe like a mother
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Part II: A Tangled Tale: Poems on Burning Man
"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"
The Walrus did beseech.
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach
-Lewis Carroll
Harveywood
The pixie and the paladin both made quite a pair;
with sword and shield and long curly hair.
On white horseback they rode swiftly to town
Kicking dust as they went but never touching the ground.
Waiving and singing to the townsfolk with glee
‘til they arrived at the church and the priestess and her tea.
The church bell sat quiet and still while they sang
until the knight with sword sounded a “CLANG!”
They rang it and waited until someone cried,
"Paladin and pixie! Here you'll reside!"
"Welcome to Harveywood!” out called the Priestess.
Her kindness was something that left them both speechless.
“Where is home?” asked the Pixie, “we both need some rest.”
The priestess replied, “Where you are now; and surely you jest!
This is the place that you’ve wanted to be
going to sleep is a crime here, you see.”
“If you must go to bed, then give me no hassle;
Nay, go lie down in your elegant castle.”
“We have no castle, as you can plainly see,
new to this land, is this pixie and me.”
“We have not a castle, or a house, or a shack.
We had only food and elixir to pack.”
“Well now you are here and it’s a castle you'll need;
just open your heart and I’ll plant the seed.”
The castle sprang forth with a sudden blast of light;
it stood on a path that was just to the right.
“Where is our castle, where I’m to be crowned?”
She said, “If you can tell time, then it can be found.
Your castle’s not where, but rather it’s when;
If you want somewhere to live, then inquire within.
The Castle of Fate
“Follow close,” said the knight to the pixie, “The treasure map’s true!”
“Do not ride too fast,” said the pixie to the knight, “or I cannot follow you.”
“If you want not to follow, you shouldn’t embark
because where we are going is out in the dark.”
The pixie got scared and flew closer still
The pixie got hurt after taking a spill.
Out in the darkness, where few would conspire,
tall in the night, stood a castle and spire!
They approached the castle which was covered in flowers
It sat in the dark, surrounded by towers.
The guard came and asked, “Do you mean us harm?”
“No,” said the knight, “our only weapon is charm!”
“Then you may enter, but ‘fore I lower the gate,
pause and ponder on the castle of fate!”
“That sounds like a warning we just can’t abide;
fate’s something from which we never shall hide.”
The guard demanded the fates be given such center:
“give what you want and then you may enter.”
The paladin answered: a confused savant,
“I want what you have, but don’t have what you want!”
The guard demanded the fates be given their due.
The knight emptied his pockets till his face had turned blue.
“I gave what I had; how much more can I give?”
“Give up what you want ‘less all you want is to live.”
And it trickled through his head
like water through a sieve.
They entered the castle on a cloud of pure white
so they peeked for a place they could sleep for the night.
“The palace is full. We must sleep in the basement.”
They smoked, and drank, and away the night went
But out in the darkness, just in his view,
the knight saw a light and that’s when he knew!
“Someone’s approaching, that’s all I can see.
I can see him, but he can’t see me!”
The Song of the Mermaid
The Paladin and the Pixie danced hand in hand.
They kissed and swore they’d never leave the sand.
Just then, a school of fish passed disturbingly near
and the Paladin thought, “Fish in the desert seem especially queer.”
The Pixie spoke up, “Let’s go for a swim.”
and jumped right in, as if the knight was dim.
The Paladin was close behind; “water sounds good to me!”
But there’s a problem with a knight in the water, you see…
When he jumped in, his armor dragged him down.
The water, which once was blue, got thick and turned brown.
He kicked and swam and tried to breathe water.
But the more he struggled the more he would falter.
When he reached the bottom he tried to march, as soldiers often do,
and realized that water is something you just can’t march through.
A mermaid stopped and stared and began to sing
filling the knights ears with a soft hypnotic ring.
The mermaid and the paladin paraded across the land.
They stopped and ate atop the salty sand.
Her fish peeked in to find they weren’t alone
and begged the mermaid that she might take them all home.
“I cannot leave a brave knight so dire;
on the ocean floor in the muck and the mire.”
So they met on the beach where no one would be
And said their goodbyes where no one would see.
The paladin stood with no sense of grace
And the mermaid kissed him just once on the face.
“I’ll think of you always,” said the mermaid to the knight
“I’ll think of you most when you’re farthest from sight.”
The cold water took him, the knight, just then
and transported him back to a time before sin.
The song of the siren left a mark on his mind.
His night with the mermaid had left the knight blind.
The Walrus did beseech.
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach
-Lewis Carroll
Harveywood
The pixie and the paladin both made quite a pair;
with sword and shield and long curly hair.
On white horseback they rode swiftly to town
Kicking dust as they went but never touching the ground.
Waiving and singing to the townsfolk with glee
‘til they arrived at the church and the priestess and her tea.
The church bell sat quiet and still while they sang
until the knight with sword sounded a “CLANG!”
They rang it and waited until someone cried,
"Paladin and pixie! Here you'll reside!"
"Welcome to Harveywood!” out called the Priestess.
Her kindness was something that left them both speechless.
“Where is home?” asked the Pixie, “we both need some rest.”
The priestess replied, “Where you are now; and surely you jest!
This is the place that you’ve wanted to be
going to sleep is a crime here, you see.”
“If you must go to bed, then give me no hassle;
Nay, go lie down in your elegant castle.”
“We have no castle, as you can plainly see,
new to this land, is this pixie and me.”
“We have not a castle, or a house, or a shack.
We had only food and elixir to pack.”
“Well now you are here and it’s a castle you'll need;
just open your heart and I’ll plant the seed.”
The castle sprang forth with a sudden blast of light;
it stood on a path that was just to the right.
“Where is our castle, where I’m to be crowned?”
She said, “If you can tell time, then it can be found.
Your castle’s not where, but rather it’s when;
If you want somewhere to live, then inquire within.
The Castle of Fate
“Follow close,” said the knight to the pixie, “The treasure map’s true!”
“Do not ride too fast,” said the pixie to the knight, “or I cannot follow you.”
“If you want not to follow, you shouldn’t embark
because where we are going is out in the dark.”
The pixie got scared and flew closer still
The pixie got hurt after taking a spill.
Out in the darkness, where few would conspire,
tall in the night, stood a castle and spire!
They approached the castle which was covered in flowers
It sat in the dark, surrounded by towers.
The guard came and asked, “Do you mean us harm?”
“No,” said the knight, “our only weapon is charm!”
“Then you may enter, but ‘fore I lower the gate,
pause and ponder on the castle of fate!”
“That sounds like a warning we just can’t abide;
fate’s something from which we never shall hide.”
The guard demanded the fates be given such center:
“give what you want and then you may enter.”
The paladin answered: a confused savant,
“I want what you have, but don’t have what you want!”
The guard demanded the fates be given their due.
The knight emptied his pockets till his face had turned blue.
“I gave what I had; how much more can I give?”
“Give up what you want ‘less all you want is to live.”
And it trickled through his head
like water through a sieve.
They entered the castle on a cloud of pure white
so they peeked for a place they could sleep for the night.
“The palace is full. We must sleep in the basement.”
They smoked, and drank, and away the night went
But out in the darkness, just in his view,
the knight saw a light and that’s when he knew!
“Someone’s approaching, that’s all I can see.
I can see him, but he can’t see me!”
The Song of the Mermaid
The Paladin and the Pixie danced hand in hand.
They kissed and swore they’d never leave the sand.
Just then, a school of fish passed disturbingly near
and the Paladin thought, “Fish in the desert seem especially queer.”
The Pixie spoke up, “Let’s go for a swim.”
and jumped right in, as if the knight was dim.
The Paladin was close behind; “water sounds good to me!”
But there’s a problem with a knight in the water, you see…
When he jumped in, his armor dragged him down.
The water, which once was blue, got thick and turned brown.
He kicked and swam and tried to breathe water.
But the more he struggled the more he would falter.
When he reached the bottom he tried to march, as soldiers often do,
and realized that water is something you just can’t march through.
A mermaid stopped and stared and began to sing
filling the knights ears with a soft hypnotic ring.
The mermaid and the paladin paraded across the land.
They stopped and ate atop the salty sand.
Her fish peeked in to find they weren’t alone
and begged the mermaid that she might take them all home.
“I cannot leave a brave knight so dire;
on the ocean floor in the muck and the mire.”
So they met on the beach where no one would be
And said their goodbyes where no one would see.
The paladin stood with no sense of grace
And the mermaid kissed him just once on the face.
“I’ll think of you always,” said the mermaid to the knight
“I’ll think of you most when you’re farthest from sight.”
The cold water took him, the knight, just then
and transported him back to a time before sin.
The song of the siren left a mark on his mind.
His night with the mermaid had left the knight blind.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Mood Ring
I once bought two friendship rings that changed color. I met a girl, gave one away and kept the other.
My ring didn't fit and it was in my pocket when you made me feel like I was insignificant.
Time passed and pain became anger. I stopped eating. Started exercising.
Now I'm slimmer. Now I'm more confident. Now the ring fits. Now I meet girls a lot.
And when they ask about it, I tell them it's my mood ring.
They say I'm adorable. They say it's cute and ask my mood.
So I tell them it's stuck on horny.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Goodbye Poem
yesterday was Saturday
and you called to say its all ok
and that you'll be back someday
but I would not play
I could not listen
and I would not stay
Thursday, August 6, 2009
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