Now I'm convinced

that the Universe
hates me
for it has placed on me
the burden
of loving everyone
and expects me to do it.
and knowing this
and knowing me
It has given itself
an Impossible feat.
But it laughs
At the head of the
statue with
smug foresight
while all I see
from this spot
at the base
is defeat.

I just realized

the main problem
has always been
that I believed
them when they told me
I wasn’t wonderful.
I was like,
who isn’t wonderful?

Written in the dark-

the processing stuff
syndrome
can make the belly weak
but take heart
don't
put your
beak
under your wing
heads up-
the sky's the limit
take off- sing!
Dont' look back-
It's all a dream anyway-
So, why not take that Leap,
(uh, Jack,
mm, is it?)

my mind exploded

a little
today
It wasn’t the biggest bang
not like the irresistible force
meeting the immovable object
or anything-
but more like
man meets god
and sees himself
with only a mirror
and an innocent
eye.

if you can love yourself

you can love anyone,
and vice versa.

Where did i go right

in the search for happiness
cuz
the happy shit is
hitting the fan
& I am
so friggin joyful
right now,
like thunder & lightning
are my favorite band
& I’m dancing
the two step
& holding the hand
of my latest partner
who’s always
pleasant & kind
& never
demeans or
belittles
my ass
for filling his pot
with whatever
I got.

A diamond

all facets at once
a grain of rice
has how many more
inside its core
and how is that
electron everywhere always
and right where you need
it to be?
Just like the way
we agreed it should be
Wouldn’t it be nice
if we would all
remember that?
We could stop
fightin’ about
all this crap
and get on with
being our cryptic selves
again
is that a sin?
As if there’s any such thing.

(W8?)

wait how is this done?
& where are we from?
hold on
who has the strings
who’s loading the gun
who’s wearing the rings
who’s who
what’s what
when’s all this gonna end
where’s there to go after this?
let’s get on with this shit.
Anyway-
thot I’d say
L8r
G8r
BEEN
Gr8
hanging with ya.

Don’t be H8N
B M8N
;]
me

Anniversary of a Birth

My granddaughter turns four today.
I want her day to be a happy one.
I want to forget the things that happened on that day
way before she was even an inkling
in her mama's knickers.
She doesn't know what it means to lose people you love
for no reason other than hate
or greed
or ignorance
or jealousy
or ignorance
or hate
or ignorance...
she only knows she wants a pink cake
with purple frosting and strawberries.
and she'll get it.
happy birthday,
sweetie.
may you turn this day into joy for all
somehow

I'm not writing,

This pen is not real
the paper doesn’t exist
nor does the poem, nor the rhythm
nor the story
nor the twist.
Except in
the mind
of the One
whose imagination
sparked “creation”
or its reasonable
facsimile;
Better known as
you or me,
or collectively,
the Singularity.

I did it.

I admit it.
I tried to quit it.
I can’t forget it

I couldn’t take it
I tried to shake it
I didn’t make it
I can’t forsake it.

I did it again

untitled poem #14

Come again, my love,
and tickle my funny bone the way
you used to do.
I’ve been getting help
for that bad habit
and have a better job.
I eat right and
exercise daily now
and often
volunteer at church,
so you can expect
a brand new person,
not the one you grew tired of
and slept around on.
or was that me?
Anyway, I’ve made
a meatloaf
with that special sauce
you love, sweet,
tangy, and spicy, all in one,
and mashed potatoes,
made with sour cream and tons of butter.
See you at 8-
I’ll leave the door unlocked-
wait, don’t you still have a key?
Never mind
Oh and if you remember,
could you bring my copy
of Barber’s Violin Concerto?
that’d be great.
No biggie,
just if you think of it.
Love,
Me.

Anniversary of a Death

He was taken away
by his actions
and hers
And theirs.
Severally and wholly
the plot was written
and he was the one
who was smitten
by the hand of
“crazy random happenstance”.
Yet, we all cried,
as if it
was a surprise
and sang ourselves
to sleep
with haunting lullabies
only to wake
again, refreshed,
and ready
to write another tale
of bittersweet hello
and good-bye.



06/25/10

untitled #13

I painted the sky purple
and the grass
a light blue
crimson trees
and copper lake
and the people
all were kind
of chartreuse
with eyes
pink as
any cloud
and hair
orange and gold.
and no one
grew old.

u.p. #12

I’m tired
of resting
and I’d be happy
to be sad for you,
but I’m busy
doin’ nothin’
I’m looking
for a vision
I’m up for
some derision
cuz I can’t see past
the television
I’m hoping
for the faith
to sleep
perchance to dream
to let myself
see myself
from any other angle
than the one I got
now.
I’m into
outcasts.