Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
I'm not surprised anymore by
the extraordinary.
When life bombards
me with trivialities, and
ordinary events,
something always happens to
jolt me from my lethargy.

"Bukowski **** on
the training pads!"
My brother yells, from
the dining room.
I'm living with my
brother, and
we have two
black kittens, Mojo and
Bukowski.
They bring me
hours of smiles.
I've never seen
eyes so full of
trust and adoration.

Bukowski has an
aversion to the litterbox.
We have tried everything.
When I put him in,
he jumps out like it's
a muddy pond.

His brother Mojo adores
the litter box.
Not only does he do
his business, he also
plays and sleeps there on
occasion.
We've started with
the training pads and
newspapers.
It's working.
Amidst all the destruction,
hate, and chaos in the
world, I'm eaten up by
the magic of the ordinary.

I talk to them as
they doze in the
afternoon sun.
"Thank you boys,
you got me going again,
Mojo, you broke the
dry spell."
They blink, and
Bukowski licks his
brother's head.
Check out my book, Seedy Town Blues on Amazon.
The entropy of life
— is shame

(Dreamsleep: December, 2023)
a distant memory
haunts his day dreams
a time when he was young
and learning

a time when he
caused a lizard pain
as he was chasing it
through the small canyon
that was his backyard

although it was unintentional
that poor creature died
and he'll never forgive himself

but he can't feel high and mighty

he eats three pounds of feedlot beef
every single week
and never blinks an eye

he needs to work on that
Yards before us the smoke pillars call.
Feeling triumphant I allow an exhausted smile,
Imagining the call of the drum and fife -
A cease fire echoing
Over the formidable fields.

Moving shadows turned faces pale
Flashes of blue and certain sound,
From the east rose a line in sudden bound.
I stood tall against the wall of fire steel and hell -
Swallows fly overhead.

Before me hidden an amazing sight
Pain like an avalanche frozen
Through till I cried
One great stroke stole my fight
As scalding water seems icy.

Envious hot lead tore through my side
Splintering a rustic fence post behind
Me - filled with life overgrown like
The rivers edge a beautiful divide
Attacked by creepers.

My knees forget old pain
Before me I see your face
And I breath last words - your name.
And my hands are like mountain air chilled by rain.
Your eyes speak love.

The sky is gray.
Reaching out for you the ground catches me
And the cold earth feels comforting.
For you I fall today.
O, invisible silence, so hauntingly deep, you're a master of disguise.

O, invisible silence, you are like a sharpened knife, causing wounds invisible to the eyes.
Next page