cannot find true rest,
all the tumult in this world,
writ both large and small,
saps my upraised arms
alternate
flexing angry fists eager to strike hard
my revived new **** enemies,
and gods inexcusable and conspicuous absence in
Barcelona, Finland and my own
Charlottesville,
and
to quiet comfort commiserating, and storing
all the pain of individual souls I've acquired willingly

and the sunset comes quiet,
trying to sooth by adding
a gentling cream of cooling breeze,
the squirrels eye me suspiciously,
sensing the amiss within,
and all perfect sailboats voyaging past,
yet none stopping at the dock
to offer condolences or solaces

my watch ticks louder

each tick,
a worrisome cursed reminder
this real life seems to be endless struggle
interrupted by small comforts of little voices and
promises that escape is inevitable

each tock,
a fresh notification
the week's approach will contain
another visit from
Hamlet's ghost,
warning of warring factions
battlefield clashing
in a chesterfield plain
between two of mine shoulder blades

constantly reminded how lucky I am,
makes me grow quiet and put pen to one side,
and try to balance accounts, using this time,
pencil and erasure

I need a break and some glue
I need reparations and a battle plan
or happily learn to surrender
and accept being a
dumb terminal,
a slave,
that doesn't ask for
peace of mind
and knock off this poet of the
no way

for Tascha

deep in the pond of unhappy, swimming,
drowning the next contemporaneous
depression thought quickly swallowed,
desperation in quick glances everywhere,
dawn is no consolation but just another
daily drawing tighter of twine cutting
disillusionment


dear god, commences every thought,
delayed answers have yet to arrive,
**** the deity's non-responsivness,
dare not say out loud lest,
deserved fates be worse, be realized,
didn't know? how can that be?
disguiser par excellent, I am the original
deceiver

But I never think about

death or dying, for that would be
defeat finale, a statute to, a status of none, a
destiny some wick spark, still insists can be
deferred

differed always,
diffidently, but grasping yet at the
double entendre that is my
dark vision of a future already past

May 2015

~for Pamela Rae~

you cannot amend reality by passing a law.
if we could, then we should have one requiring society to
guarantee a happy childhood.

every **** time I propose to myself a resolution
that I am an ok poet, I stumble on to a poet here
of whom I was unaware, and you were, correctly aware,
that brings a good light into the world,
vowing to throw in the towel,
the I'm ok resolution never passes,
voted down 2 - 1;
Against:  Myself, I
In Favor: Me
which necessitates try try again
Einstein's Insanity Theorem fool
proofed.

Exclaim! what a goodly word.  
If we ex'd our claims (need, due, want) more,
walking in quiet contemplation,
we could climb on our roof (I can) and proclaim (silently)
glory glory hallelujah and it would not matter to
whom  (which diety)
we are
addressing.  

Outstanding! what a goodly word.
If I could satisfy the claims against me outstanding,
still unsatisfied, while I am yet among the living,
especially the one that are self-propelled,
that would be
outstanding.

I would rather the simple monetary motived corruption
of a dishonest businessman, than the cowardly silence
of the fools we elect to govern us, and gravely pretend
to know what is good for us. I call this,
My Theory of the Greater Corruption.

Word Salad: making crazy combinations of words,
i.e. eggplant smile, vegetable sunrise etc.
hell, I just can't make any up,
it is
cheap and lazy crafty no craftsmanship, craftwomanship
but very self/satisfying and tasty too,  I'm sure,
and authentic 100%  b.s.

The apocalypse is always nigh.
Ironically, very true.
Let's keep it that way.
neigh neigh neigh.

I write many more words than I speak;  
by a very wide margin;
this pleases me,
by a very wide margin.

complexification
(yes, it is a real word) and
glorification
rhyme because they both end in
shunned.

In heaven, the following are outlawed:
yoga, exercise, dieting, crying; denying and lying.  
the latter obviate the former.
glory glory hallelujah and hot ****

>•>
4/18/17 2:43am

she returns from her classes,
ballet, yoga, core something and Zumba for flavoring,
her hair, an upward, toe pointing cannon of mop mess,
her face glowing flushed,
one look and I know she is both,
morphing high,
wipeout exhausted

a little ritual she performs somewhere between
"it was great and she (the instructor) killed us,"
auto sub conscious,
she looks herself over,
twisting elegantly like the
Argentine tango dancer she is,
in the mirrored closet doors

raising both arms to see (show off)
the sums of her endeavors,
the exoskeletal musculature
she has earned,
a life long effort,
like a prize fighter as he
macho enters the ring,
an alpha male gesture
if ever there was one,
made over to say,
hey boy, look at me!

and the boy looks her over,
always thinking, but never revealing,
that it is her muscles of mindfulness and mercy,
that take his breath away, the ones that are worked out daily,
the ones that surround and work the heart beating,
the lung inhaler of humans in need,
exhaling the richest
oxygen for others to breathe

and the boy does his service,
providing a "wow" or "very impressive,"
only you and he know his real thinking,
and his muscle memories secret,
you to keep, just between us,
and his secret identity, only love poetry...

8:52pm 7/20/17