the simplest song (seek your prime)

the one that likely never finishes the course

tune that never ceases though it knows well stilling quietude,
one passenger verse in a lean vessel that reveals, declares,
anoints the outwards atmospheric condition with the conditions
of what’s within,
compulsively, incessantly demanding- seek your prime

write yourself a poem, be a poem, write of your becoming

bring the simmering sauce to a furious boil,
the words placed in your soil by your own five,
reap the fruit even if wormed, bruised, overripe
or trite

this is your song

breathe it into my mouth
until the last one,
making me glad to know you
and your becoming,
prime music

yes, this is a love poem

12/10/17 8:38am

oh drat,
you are reading this,
my little kitty ditty,
jinxing my super duper secret plan,  
my walter mitty,
if no one reads this pretty
then the algo-rhythm
sure to pick me out of sympathy
to be the

so thanks for nothing, Jinxy McJinxFace!

do not give me away
with a finger or a heart,
lest the algo smells a rat
realizing that I am artificially intelligent too!

Ogdiddy Nash


woke the woman at 7:00am Sabbath morning to save my life for overnight,  my body had ripped ribbed crack’d apart,
no spider web sized stains but cracks of crater size on both legs heading up northwards, gut and muscle revealing, spreading,
renting apart my chest and head and forecasting that
my twin two’s, eyes ears arms and nostrils,
destined half to the east and half to the west,
leaving the leftovers for the basement temple altar furnace burning
for the divorce division so rapid, death’s relief nearby

begging her to hold me despite my body
unwashed and face three day unshaven,
my body stink-stanking stench decaying,
so parched my chords, my eyes my beseechers,
for a stammering pus yellowed whisper barely could I issue

if she held me tight perhaps
the spreadsheet cataloguing my cracks divisible
would cease expanding, halting my perishment inevitable

summoned surgeons three but were so excited to see my
own red sea splitting and my ultimatum of egyptian drowning fast approaching, spellbound and helpless, all they did
was take cell phone videos to show on the doctor porn channel for $12.99

and she said,

holding you now too late, the man flesh-eating disease
can be defeated if you know the cause;
all night I hear you pace and tread the boundaries of our
tiny shelter, needing the resting that comes when you note the hour, the sign of writ and done, for all I hear is you
struggle-seeking to release the words disordered,
hurricane hail haunting the caverns of you,
depositories of misrouted, mis-sorted sounds and the thunderous cracking now is their sound of their desperation
at your failure to form them, all they seek is the wholeness of formation and are force fleeing your leaking containership
through the cracks of their desperation

I will pack your body in ice, lay upon it all day, melting the water
into every orifice new and old, hydraulic hydrating then sealing
the apertures and lead you to your own promised land,
to thy Jerusalem capitol, where you may sing new songs,
teaching the Kohanim and the Levites new prayers

promise you the sleep of exhaustion with the sounds of
Canon in D to soothe, and when the night-frights
have passed, will feed you with writing utensils,
to teach that inspiration comes even by daylight, even to you

your best dreams of dying will be your best writing schemes,
when you awake, the sky cracks of inspiration come unfiltered lean,
and for heaven’s sake, for our sake, for your words sake,
then, chest will freely open and fully formed, thy poems will emerge
content and complete

and when you hear them sing:

“And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had”^

you will knowingly, be laughing, unafraid

^lyric from “Mad World “
not knowable how to date this nightmare but it took twelve hours of half sleep

to complete

(please come to order)

i'm over here BAFFLED
by the righteous
surprise of women
and poorly portrayed
shock of the gents

over the downfall
of men.

have we all been
inhabiting the same
country | culture | school | work |church| family

stop being foolish

and stand before the judge.

you teach your children
nothing of
sex | gender | relationships

and then are surprised by the disfunction
and shame coming to light.

we don't educate our children
with facts
so they don't know how their bodies work
and don't understand
the nuance of relationships.

girls should act like ladies
and boys shouldn't cry.

girls, be quiet and never cause a fuss.

boys, grab the world by the pussy, it's yours.

and now you gasp
in surprise at the results?

you hide knowledge and
options from girls
then condemn their poverty
condemn their parenting
and now wonder
where it all went wrong?

teach them to never walk alone, anywhere, EVER.
hold your keys in-between your fingers
tear out eyeballs and other balls
if you must.

maybe none of the men know
we are taught this as children?
that our entire lives revolve around
keeping ourselves safe from men.
and it is ALL our responsibility.
no matter what happens or doesn't happen,
it is somehow always a woman's fault.

fed a false narrative of the stranger
when most of the time,
is the known man
that causes the most damage.
that flies lowest under
the radar.
that has power
and influence
and the ability to hide.

but don't provoke the poor boys.
under no circumstances allow
your body to be seen,
but also don't be too covered up
(because then how will you get a man?)
jesus, guys, get with it.

[don't be sensitive]
what's an ass slap here or there by an utter stranger?
what's the big deal when a dear friend
suddenly lunges at you and grabs your boob during a normal conversation?
what's a little verbal harassment, he's old, it was normal then?
a strange call into the office?
a hand up your skirt?
it's just boys being boys.

it's time to stop this.

it's time to stop feigning ignorance.

you are responsible for this.

full stop.

just like i am.

but my silence ends today.
and i will not contribute to
a society or culture
that devalues women
for the sake of the
male ego.

stop acting surprised by men
behaving without integrity.
by criminals
and predators.
and for FUCK'S SAKE

stop | electing | them

the elegance of truthful simplicity,
the sweet truths of elegant brevity,
the insides of insight

Please Read

for it should be the Poem of the Day

  Dec 7 Nat Lipstadt

I don't notice until he shifts
that he's pulled his sketch pad
from his bag, he's sketching me!
I close my eyes just before he looks up.
I feel giddy.
"You're a bad actress, madame."
I smile although my eyes are still closed.

  Dec 7 Nat Lipstadt

You're a sweet sweet friend
said the rain to the wind
pushing me to find a place to land

You're a harsh master
said the trail to the mountain
leading me higher then I even knew
I could go

You're teaching me all
said the river to the ground
guiding me down
to mother ocean's mouth

You're the father
said the earth to the sun
bestowing life
in the great dark vacuum sea

You're my consciousness
said the darkness to the mind
which allows me to behold
the light
the wonders of beauty
all around me.

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