"renter" poems
I don't remember my Mother's womb;
The biological Apartment I stayed almost
Rent-free (on my part, anyway) for
Three-quarters of an Eternity
The doorway into reality I got to use
Kicking it around my tiny little round flat,
Seeing the scars on the walls from the
Nine renters before me
Three of whom did not make it past the 90-day
Warranty. I do remember hearing about Joseph, taken back
Into God's Loving Arms for reasons He only knew;
Joseph was no more, so the Third Renter was my sister
Cathy, Cacky-Wacky, I used to call her, rousing a bemused
Smile, the ghost of Joseph a mote of brown in her left eye-
But back to me...
Dad saw my little worm and shouted for joy
A boy! A baby boy! I've finally a Son!
Mom, exhausted, yet a "ROOM FOR RENT" sign
Hanging a month and many sleepless nights away
Filled by Dad's amazingly virile and potent
Back-stroking Swimmers-
Me crying at the shouting of the big fuzzy man-shape
Who cradled me in hairy simian-like arms, ham-hock
Hands holding me gently like I was a Precious Gift from God
When I die, I will be
Wombed again, in Heaven's Birthing Room, my Spirit
Exiting from its earthly skin-shell, into the Hands of
God my Father. My Mother will be there,
No longer worn-out from being an Eleven-Room
A Sacrifice standing beside her, herself a sacrifice
Testament of the perpetuation of the Human Race
I think I have much to live for, here;
I KNOW I have an infinite Eternity waiting for me in
Heaven's Womb
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 12:40 PM UTC
I turned the corner to see Sunshine and Crystal
Breaking into my efficiency.
Crystal’s legs and *** were hanging out of the window.
Sunny was already in.
Both barely had anything on.
Both thought I was asleep and wanted me on their own;
So bad that they teamed up.
Time's touch of roughness and
A hot mess of radiance;
Treating my house as if it were my heart.
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 1:14 PM UTC
reposting a poem from 3 1/2 years ago, when I knew how to write
<>
organizing the day,
while the baby room renter in the adjacent,,
makes dreamy rock n' roll noises,
siren calls to stay~lay in bed,
tho status of semi-alert,
ready to relieve Ernie and Bert,
who have the first shift covered
soon on guard duty,
scheming about dis n' dat,
you are sleeping, dreaming,
wide awake seeing,
multitasking with eyes closed simultaneously.
lesser of a poet, more a notate-er,
list keeper, note taker,
arguing with yourself inside the head,
actually feeling the thoughts
coursing, lurking, seeing both sides now,
parentally, washing the dishes
of the hours and years ahead.
while the woman-mother
makes her soprano dreaming noises,
you laugh at the orchestra of
******* sighing somnolent noises,
a cadenza of love dancing in your
irresistible wide awake dreams.
paying the bills, lying in the dark,
you wonder-worry about the agenda
unknown that will overgrow you,
fast creeping up the grain of your skin,
ivy on stone skin walls.
lala lala
you borrow baby's lullaby,
yourself for to calming,
keeping time, silly rhyming,
organizing the days ahead
in you head, while,
recording the harmonies of
sweet sensory inputs.
the dark provides the cloak
where you alone
feel and hear the worry
and laugh lines knitting
into a single stitch of parenting.
1/20/2013
Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 4:39 PM UTC
the neighbors would hate me
tween 11 and 6:00pm
when I sing we must of true detective stories
of unrequited love, death,
the stony stink of
the poverty of starvation
of body and soul,
the stuff that makes
the paper librettos
come alive,
but my lease reads:
The Renter is required to refrain from singing between the hours of 11:00pm and 6:00am.
Writing poetry is not only permissible, but encouraged.
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 10:15 AM UTC
(I came into a Stagg Street bathroom.)
There're only two-- the shared one in the hall and in a master bedroom.
Our shared lid was down, and spotted with a yellow accident realized.
(I sopped up the mess, and dropped spilled Toilette Paper into flushing water.)
Why is there a Vietnamese renter sitting in the bathtub?
Was he trying to crap in the tub?
We talked and he said the toilet was stuffed, but it wasn't.
Ta Ree's bathroom looks out onto the pool.
(I shut the bathroom door and locked it with that weird turning lock, and looked at the pool, another inside room.)
(I see a slender hand.)
We adjusted our dreaming angle, and it turned into a young Ta Ree.
She had on a remote face, already detached from us.
Under slumber's possible tendrils, a small smile appeared on her face, connecting my Inside with our outside.
(I laughed; She was still with us.)
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 11:55 AM UTC
I've grown tired of labels in life
Are you White
Are you Black
Are you Asian
Are you Green
There are so many labels in life
Are you Muslim
Are you Jewish
Are you Catholic
Are you Agnostic
They continue to put labels in life
Are you a homeowner
Are you a renter
Are you in an apartment
Are you in a house
They're driving me insane labels in life
Are you Democrat
Are you Republican
Are you Green
Are you Independent
What does it mean in the big scheme of things????????????????
Nothing at all as the only label that matters is
HUMAN
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 9:22 PM UTC
I don’t know how to just be your friend
Trust me, that’s literally all that I want to be
Because I can’t be stuck in this back and fourth continuous stream forever
When we reconnected, I felt something inside of me that I hadn’t felt since the day we met
And that’s sappy and stupid, but I don’t care
How dare I let myself get close to you again
And we’re not even close
We’re nowhere as close as we used to be, but in a way we’re closer
How dare you renter my life and think that it’s fair to just pick up where we left off, but actually not
Because you know the impact you have on me
Did you know that the last time I cried up until recently was February of 2016?
But then recently, when I got scared of what was going to become of this newfound friendship,
I cried again — every night for a few nights
And when I think of you leaving again like you left the first time it honestly breaks my heart
Did you know that I wrote a letter to you a few weeks ago when we hung out for the first time
Because it didn’t feel like the first time, it just felt like a continuation of all the other times
Except this time was better
I wrote a letter that I had planned to give to you after a while of reconnecting
But now I just really don’t know
You said me “I think it would work better if we had dated now, rather than two years ago”
How the hell do you think you can just say something like that and it be okay
How do you think that you can have late night conversations with me
And send pictures back and forth
And, oh god, the worst, SHARE MUSIC WITH ME
And keep up this so called “friendship”
But no, not as a regular thing
God forbid we have more than a 5 minute conversation in one day
And just to be clear, no, I don’t think that it’s “unreasonable” to be developing feelings
I wish you would just give it a chance again
I know you recently felt something, even if it was just a little, because you told me
And because I saw the real you for a split second
And yes, that messed with my head even more, in case you were wondering
Do you believe in soul-mates?
Because I do with my whole entire being
And the reason I can write this without it being weird
And the reason I’m putting up with the 5 minutes a day, is because there is something here and it has not gone away and it will not go away
And I’m literally sacrificing any feelings that could be developing for anyone else during this time
Because I am not giving up, and honestly, I never did give up
I was upset and I acted out, but that was only to hide that I still cared
And I really think, well, hope, that deep down you might still care as well
Jan 10, 2018
Jan 10, 2018 at 10:23 PM UTC
the dress is red
or black or off
and the eyes are
blue or green or brown
the hair is auburn
or blonde
some mix between
and the face is
tired or bored
or apathetic
the liquor is cheap
and strong and
does the job
and the love is
stale or bitter
or gone
the motel reeks
of something rotten
and her name is Jen
or Ashley or
anything
anything else
the ***
is old or used
or quick
but always
no good
and the bed squeaks
and the walls are thin
so the renter next door
feels every pulse
the goodbye
is laughable or sad
or about time
and the girl is
too old or too young
too beat up
but she always,
always comes
again
new dress new
*** new face
new love
but she always, always
comes again
Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 1:11 AM UTC
So I was reading a Paul Krugman review of
Capital in the 21st Century, that French guy’s
Thesis on economic inequality that seems to be
Getting so much play in intellectual circles these days.
The word rentier came up in Krugman’s text.
I realized by its context that I’d better consult
My Webster’s--an archaic, print-era device,
A volume I keep close to the couch,
The couch where I do most of my reading these days,
Particularly my NY Review of Books
And The New Yorker,
Obbligato for us holdouts,
We 21st Century pseudo-intellectuals.
Rentier: (from the Old French,
Noun rente, circa 1847),
A person who lives on income
From property or securities.
A status far cry from Renter:
A schmuck who pays the landlord
For the leaky roof above his head.
Rentier & Renter:
It’s words like these—
Essentially polar opposites—
That make understanding our world so difficult.
What chance does the uneducated person have?
What chance to grasp the importance of Piketty’s book,
Let alone be spurred on,
Driven to the barricades once more?
The great tragedy is this:
Piketty's book will reach the audience
Least likely to support the kind of
Progressive tax policy change,
Change that anyone left with
A mere skosh of 1960’s heart,
Would demand in terms of simple fairness.
Capital in the 21st Century
Will only be understood
By those with little or no inclination—
Be it intellectual of moral—
To deviate from the status quo.
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 1:47 PM UTC
A roach came to work with me
in my shoe.
It's a true story.
I shook him out of my laces
And he joined in with a new group
of bugs on the ground.
He can get renter's insurance for
$10 a month.
I'm back, eating lunch in the car
by the path.
And cake.
That's a start.
Jan 14, 2020
Jan 14, 2020 at 9:57 AM UTC
My favorite thing about this
Viral sensation
Has to be the complete lack
Of continuity
Throughout countries, states
Cities.
Welcome to my little slice of
Hell
As I am fortunate enough
To get to share my Uber with
Some random stranger at
Approximately 11:47 pm
Is a shady city
Crawling with shady people
Mind you
I am just a 20 year old female
Very protective of my body
But wait, there’s more
For just half the unreasonable price of a shared ride
I can get an express car pool in which
I get to walk for 5 whole minutes
To the Denny’s parking lot
In the dead of night
Yay me.
The ride to my house, a normal
20 minute drive
Turns to 37 as we take a random exit
To pick up a random stranger
Who does not show up
But that’s fine
As it is
We renter the same highway 10 minutes later
In a futile attempt
To get me
Home before
12:30 am
That did not happen
Did you know that 24 hour Subways exist?
Me neither
May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 2:37 AM UTC
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Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 12:46 AM UTC
Tonight I'll wait to see the moon's face
Hovering above that cypress tree;
Then I'll drift off to my favorite place .....
The other side of reality
Into that land where passion runs free,
And wild fantasies lurk everywhere;
My body goes limp .... Love carries me
Like a hungry lion to its lair
I'm held captive, unable to flee,
But not one complaint do I proclaim;
Love fans the embers of fantasy,
And suddenly my heart is aflame
Soon the flames are enkindling two hearts,
An embrace and a kiss enchant me;
At last Cupid's free to throw his darts,
(A fantasy day cannot grant me!)
Phantom love flourishes in the dark
Where truth cannot invade its domain;
My hunger for love has lit the spark --
Now my spirit seeks this astral plane
Where do I go when I fall asleep?
Surely, the Edge of Eternity!
And so among the shadows I creep,
Where Love dispels its uncertainty
My worldly possessions are meager,
In this life I'm but a poor renter;
Is it shocking that I'm so eager
Through this blest passageway to enter!
If Love cannot find me in the light,
Then let my eyes permanently close;
Loneliness is banished from my sight
While my eyes are shut in sweet repose
So let me dwell where day's dormant dreams
Can awaken with temerity,
And woes are drowned in Love's sparkling streams ....
The other side of reality
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 12:46 PM UTC
I love this house,
the yellow stucco,
my thinking tree, the one who's tallest branch helped me escape from the things below.
I love my room,
it has absorbed everything about me into it's walls,
they made me feel safe, and helped me escape
Sometimes I hate the owners who have shaped and molded me into the person I am now
They are the landowners and I am the renter
Coming and going without a trace and never offering nor receiving a likeness of an embrace
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 1:16 PM UTC
Alt du giver mig er på udlån
og du tager grådigt det hele tilbage når jeg går igen
med renter
Jeg er dit vinglas du fylder op for at tømme;
jeg tror også jeg får dig til at have det bedre med dig selv
Så nådesløs i din udførelse
og pludselig i sofaen til en flad fest
væk på medicin for en sygdom du ikke har
Patetisk og pinlig, sårbar
Afventer din næste symfoni af tør hosten så vi kan holde i hånden,
en undskyldning for at hvile min hånd på dit ben
Jeg ruller ofte øjne af dig og sukker dybt når du snakker men jeg skal nok passe på dig
Kysser dine øjenlåg så du drømmer om mig
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 8:37 PM UTC
Wage-slave, renter, debt-ower doer
of nothing now, but consumption
- I consume power
- I use power another might
- I listen to the news, I seldom read
I tried, I tried, said the tennis worker,
whose name caught my ear-
Stefanos Tsitsipas, sounds
like Sisyphus, my happy
reminder.
We push our way
to new places, or we may
pay our pointy gnosis snif ifery
attention to sign-if-icant curiosis
need, to know way to go. At tend to,
that, we all need that
one thing,
one needful thing, one thing
we do,
that none other may do, we
see one thing- this is me, my bit of us,
we bubble with joy when doing this,
doing this, and that,
another doing that,
and, indeed, we do as we
see one thing…
form
a point to life, poetry, the mythic force.
Eustacy, joy's veritable power,
swells with a feeling now called pride.
Joy is not the pride that comes
before the fall.
Joy, heartfelt,
next-worldly joy, you know,
Joy bell bubbling soul joy,
sensational, subtle, so soft sometimes,
whispers wish wish wish
sweep away the first formed fear, now,
know the need to know
is not a treasure to be horded
omagod.. jagonnasayit jesu
save us, all the treasures, cried to the priest,
the host, cried out to Na'amah,
some tales tell,
is it true?
--maybe, but, it's a retell of a retold tale,
--In this story, Na'amah is Noah's wife,
-- she who bhor alone the knacks of Cain
--- live lyve liv e set free for future use
--- gibberish, you wish, but future use
telley-osis-echo-ist ping ping ping
scrub jay emphasizes, earth time, listen
there are maybes that never are,
scrub jay saying, here am I, there are you,
this is what we do.
-- then a breeze of if-I-knew asked me for a lift.
Jun 14, 2021
Jun 14, 2021 at 2:56 PM UTC
Choke down every thought you thought you'd like to speak to me
I can't hear anything you'd say to me
Explain to me,
explain.
How you be the way you are
and think such thoughts so thoughtlessly.
How you want me to accept
what you express so thoughtfully.
But I see not your sentiment
in these things you send to me.
I'm feeling like a renter
in your heart like you rent it to me.
Once a day,
you say so hey,
i think your pretty and shine
Once a week
i'll catch a wink
but cold is the rest of the time.
Jun 30, 2019
Jun 30, 2019 at 1:28 PM UTC
In between notebooks
writing on the back of bank statement envelopes
My money would be in wise temperance
if I didn't haunt auctions for cursed instruments
I got a bargain baglama in route from Greece
it's just the chase
the replacement of writing songs and hard work
I could at least join the fox hunts
but don't forget coming from those that are forced to hunt
Sometimes envious of that pressure again
but don't resent cause it's just weakness
What I can't force myself to emulate
the neo-Malthusianism of my anointed material condition
________________________________________________________
I'm back at it
running out of space
Might have to switch to that student loan
refinancing scheme from Chase
I won't even open it cause
I'm just waiting for society to value
education as a better use of time than
bailing out bankers gambling on the
backs of the poor and middle class that take all the risk
You swindle their paycheck and taxes too
Worshiping at the alter of the greenback printer
Sell your grandma and your grandchildren's future
___________________________________________________________
I think I ran out of unimportant mail to write upon
I need to do my taxes so I can stop stressing
about hoarding unopened letters
I'm afraid I'll find some catastrophe like a disease
or a stolen identity
There's too much to fear in the 21st century
Yes, how weird
there's no aristocratic family lording over my plot of land
I'm not even a renter anymore except
to the bank and I get my food from multi-national global kings
Much less personal than the ****** that used to rule our lives
Now they're depersonalized into the corporate body
Escaping heaven's mandate
I suppose
Through layer and layer of fabric reality
the market, democracy, technology
is the belief that this whole world is fake
Ascribing deity to digital creators
Bad faith actors
Pretending it's other than profit you desire
"Profit's just a means"
but you need more means to make more means
What's the real product you're peddling?
Do you not have pride beyond the money making aspect?
Why do you highlight such shortsightedness?
Jan 25, 2023
Jan 25, 2023 at 11:04 PM UTC
Alt du giver mig er på udlån
og du tager grådigt det hele tilbage når jeg går igen
med renter
Jeg er dit vinglas du fylder op for at tømme;
jeg tror også jeg får dig til at have det bedre med dig selv
Så nådesløs i din udførelse
og pludselig i sofaen til en flad fest
væk på medicin for en sygdom du ikke har
Patetisk og pinlig, sårbar
Afventer din næste symfoni af tør hosten så vi kan holde i hånden,
en undskyldning for at hvile min hånd på dit ben
Jeg ruller ofte øjne af dig og sukker dybt når du snakker men jeg skal nok passe på dig
Kysser dine øjenlåg så du drømmer om mig
Dec 14, 2018
Dec 14, 2018 at 2:30 PM UTC
I paid the rent for an 18 year old living with us
And oh my the rending was great
But there has been no rendering of the account
Because my mom couldn't comprehend that I had been rent
In two.
Years passed until one day as I was driving home from an account
I imagined my own son, at 18, splitting a four year old asunder
Who deserves my love? The renter or the rent?
That moment I marked his account: "PAID IN FULL"
and only then I could render an account and finally comprehend
The story's end.
Jun 20, 2017
Jun 20, 2017 at 4:49 PM UTC