Mike Arms: Favorites

Jan 2014 Mike Arms

david badgerow

the destroyers are out to destroy
they are the heat of the night
******-burned bodies trembling in the jungle
they are bullets nestled silently into the back of one's head
babies dangling from their mother's limp arms as
she builds herself a new body
made out of the countryside & the trees & dynamite
and she will bring the explosion at dawn
i could fit the memory of last night in a wine bottle
i fell asleep in the dumpster and you kissed me with your wine stained lips
in the morning i hoisted the sunrise into a wheelbarrow and headed west.

now i don't know who or what i am
all i need is a soapbox to stand on
or a cliff to climb
a little solitude
i need to be regurgitated as smoke
hanging over three lanes of asphalt
i need a valley with soft green carpet
and a pretty girl's adolescent thighs
i need my face shoved in her *****
i need the enormous bliss of a long afternoon
i need to find the intersection of
our intimate streets.

Jan 2014 Mike Arms

End of the Day Shift

Jan 2014 Mike Arms

Gary Gibbens

End of the Day Shift

“They sentenced me to 20 yrs of boredom
For trying to change the system from within” L. Cohen

After all the posturing was over
And the last attempts at honesty passed away
He saw the victims of the system heading out to sea
Coral wreaths held them
Their eyes shone like stars in the waters

Crawling on the beach,
His last strength flowing out with the tide
He saw the faces of broken-hearted children,
Jealous lovers, sadistic losers, failed prophets and criminal con-men
All crying for another chance
Another ride on the roller coaster

After a time, their cries became the sounds of gulls
A new morning beginning to brighten the waters
Now he lay on his side, trying to breathe
Almost asleep when he first saw her

Bare footed, she was wearing something white or gold
Floating around her
She seemed to be laughing
Every step she took left a brief shining print on the sand
At first, he didn’t think she’d notice him
Just another piece of tidal wreckage
But then
She was there
Her arms around him
And he fell asleep in the warmth of the sun

Jan 2014 Mike Arms

pancakes

Jan 2014 Mike Arms

david badgerow

pancakes

she brings me pancakes and lights me a cigarette
my ***** are cement and icicles form on my toes

she opens the curtain to a dying dove on the balcony
the banks are closed and the stock market has crashed

the periscope lens, so lucidly balanced, has fallen
irreparably into the crypt of a dream

i take a bite of an apple and stare into the mid-morning sun
after bagging the bird, she drapes herself across my chest

she is worshiped like a cradle, or a gravestone in a thunder storm
in her ecstasies, a prism, a poem fits like a glove

as the sunlight warms her ******* she heaves remnants
of last night's whiskey into my adam's apple and it burns me

the words she struck me with still sting in my ears
her fingerprints remain on my back and my bathroom mirror

Jan 2014 Mike Arms

wabi-sabi

Jan 2014 Mike Arms

Frisk

wabi-sabi

people's eyes are like constellations, wherever you go
they will be there during sunlight and sundown,
picking out flaws like they pick out food on menus
finding the crack in the liberty bell, finding Venus de
Milo’s lack of arms, like flowers, we wilt without
rain, and we are so ashamed of being imperfect,
but why do we run from the rain? can we not accept
reality and believe fantasy is a much more powerful
sense of comfort than believe in the bizarre judgement
the earth has provided for us, the most grandeur
hearts are the heavily scarred and bruised, because
what are we without our flaws? we aren't boring.

- kra

Jan 2014 Mike Arms

expulsion

Jan 2014 Mike Arms

Frisk

expulsion

like backpedaling on a bicycle, after getting my bags and
burning the rest of the kisses you stole from me, you ran
back into me, making my life chaos and showing this ridiculous
front you painted on your face like clown makeup smiling
effortlessly acting like i didn't bleed you out of my veins, like
i didn't train my heart to swear under an oath not to paint you
back into my picture, maybe you know what i'm talking about,
nothing is perfectly in order for me and the tables turn before
i get a chance to come to a realization that the traction between
us is like fingers against a chalkboard, it's back and forth constant
fear of these red strings i can't seem to cut with my safety
scissors as fingers and i am a small miniscule vessel at war with
this violent storm mother nature sheds onto me, coloring
me in blue and black war paint but i will fight back this time
and i will not teeter on the edge and prevent biting my tongue

- kra

Jan 2014 Mike Arms

my pacemaker, state of the art

Jan 2014 Mike Arms

Raj Arumugam

my pacemaker, state of the art

Yeah guys, just back from the doctor’s
Turns out he’s worked at Apple
and Samsung and such –
he’s really into technology and all that,
you know
the latest stuff, really
“The heart,” he pronounced,
“is really a technology”

anyway, he’s given me
a pacemaker for me heart
and the doc, he said also
it’s state-of-the-art technology
so I can also download apps for my liver,
kidneys and my bowels
if needs be
yeah, I really feel good
inside out and all the way down

Note written after Joe Adomavicia's and Timothy's comments:
This poem is based on a joke (dark humour, no doubt) I found online . I am fine and healthy. I thank Joe and Timothy for their concern about my health. Does it not do our hearts good to have friends like that who show concern for one another? (:

Jan 2014 Mike Arms

Just one drop (haiku)

Jan 2014 Mike Arms

Amanda In Scarlet

Just one drop (haiku)

A single diamond
falls delicately, bursting
open, dousing him.

Jan 2014 Mike Arms

Wino Bangs On The Window

Jan 2014 Mike Arms

Amanda In Scarlet

Wino Bangs On The Window

Slop ******* soup kitchen soak.
Sick sick sadness.
Embarrassment.
Anger.

Just go away.

Look at me, kids,
Don't look at the window
There's nothing there.
DON'T STARE!
I'm teaching you a valuable London lesson,
How to ignore invisible men,
However persistent.

He came inside,
Asked for a quid,
I bought him a burger,
Just to get rid.

Horrid.

Not him, me.
As he sat there, shaking, eating,
Drinking his coffee (eight sugars, seven milks)
Tears poured down his face.

And the children asked me why.
Mummy, why did that man cry
when you bought him a burger?
Did he want a different toy?

I learned a valuable life lesson.

One I won't forget.