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"upstate" poems
i told the girls at work about time spent with jane. they seemed awfully excited for me. maybe they could smell that jane is new, but familiar like a car bought used. she is barely driven though. i still drive over the skids i left from trying to stop too quick. you can see my tread worn out like sanded wood. or maybe they could smell the hope like dew on the morning grass. fresh but dangerous. waiting to trip me with my eyes set ahead but not infront. theyll leave the wire right where they got me the last time. it would be an honor to be fooled by something so sweet to the touch. it almost feels alien to not be so upset by the way the weather dictates my evenings. i do not FEEL like i used to. my love and guilt helix and weave like code. i would only kiss you now, if it brought back the one i poisoned. i live in a farm upstate now like a dead house dog. if ive really moved on know that i did the impossible we'll be better off for it. and if things never work out with jane, you best pray someone loves me when im dead cause they sure as hell dont love me now.
0
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 12:28 AM UTC
nectarine // an ode to new love and a potential farewell to an old one
Rows of starched green and yellow paisley feather stalks Marching in ordered lines along the road to 57 Eldon Way Hot dogs and char burgers charge the air with yesterday's homecoming Buds of moxie memories tipping long ears to big blue Listening to the chickadees vocal pecking at kernels from the past Morsels fall to the dirt signal life again for those willing to root Pulled magpies to lines spy intimate joy-scattered seed below Promising fortunes creased by hourglasses settled sand White washed porches with rose printed borders Nestle a "his and her" swing vantage over familiar fields Imagined better-time scenes from selfie soaked movies More real than all the forgotten stones ever stepped upon Sweet tea sugar fills tall glasses of yarn spun dreams Glory red and navy rippling a windy beat To the clang of their steal pole clasp Dance Swing with them and recall a time of slower horizons Of richer baskets Of brighter springs Of longer summers Take a dip in the swimming hole Naked, together, and happy © 2019 MJL
0
Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 7:43 PM UTC
Upstate
It was, as the New York Times all but sniffed (Even then, a haughty mix of bluenose and black ink) Further proof the poor, misguided Upstate rubes Were no more than ample fodder For any tinhorn, two-bit confidence man to take for a ride. Fair enough—it was, to the careful eye and unheated psyche Clear as the azure blue sky that, Despite the best efforts of acid wash and a year underground, So obviously a statue as to be absolutely laughable, And yet the vox populi came in waves, Not only one-gallus farmers from the fields nearby, But from the great cities near and far (Chicago, Philadelphia, and, yes, even New York itself To throw Hannum a quarter to view his gargantuan grotesquery Just as described in Genesis itself, he noted solemnly So many, indeed, that Barnum himself was divinely inspired Not only to purloin the giant, but its prior owner’s epigram As to the frequency of the manufacture Of his too-credible customer base. While there was (briefly, at least) some mystery surrounding The origins of the brobdingnagian mass of stone, It remained (to some, anyway) equally unfathomable Why scores of folks would careen in unsteady coaches The full length of the Catskill Turnpike, With its questionable lodging and uneven roadworthiness, Or patiently suffer the mosquito-laden flatboats of Clinton’s Ditch All to spend the cash equivalent of two trips to the county fair To see a perfectly good hootchie-kootchie show Simply to gawk at an unevenly carved rock of questionable authenticity, But that explained quite simply, As the public always gets what the public wants.
0
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 4:03 PM UTC
In Which We Wonder Upon The Spectacle Of The Cardiff Giant
It was, as the New York Times all but sniffed (Even then, a haughty mix of bluenose and black ink) Further proof the poor, misguided Upstate rubes Were no more than ample fodder For any tinhorn, two-bit confidence man to take for a ride. Fair enough—it was, to the careful eye and unheated psyche Clear as the azure blue sky that, Despite the best efforts of acid wash and a year underground, So obviously a statue as to be absolutely laughable, And yet the vox populi came in waves, Not only one-gallus farmers from the fields nearby, But from the great cities near and far (Chicago, Philadelphia, and, yes, even New York itself To throw Hannum a quarter to view his gargantuan grotesquery Just as described in Genesis itself, he noted solemnly So many, indeed, that Barnum himself was divinely inspired Not only to purloin the giant, but its prior owner’s epigram As to the frequency of the manufacture Of his too-credible customer base. While there was (briefly, at least) some mystery surrounding The origins of the brobdingnagian mass of stone, It remained (to some, anyway) equally unfathomable Why scores of folks would careen in unsteady coaches The full length of the Catskill Turnpike, With its questionable lodging and uneven roadworthiness, Or patiently suffer the mosquito-laden flatboats of Clinton’s Ditch All to spend the cash equivalent of two trips to the county fair To see a perfectly good hootchie-kootchie show Simply to gawk at an unevenly carved rock of questionable authenticity, But that explained quite simply, As the public always gets what the public wants.
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31
Big old jade earring hung from that haunted necklace, swinging from this and that and the other way where and if that sky upstairs let go of the thing I wanted you to be but a break in the system, no a malfunction in that suction of a love that you tried to forget about but feel those typing keys on the fingers that break knees and the heels up and up with the ***** a lingerin' and thats sounding like a new pounding, the one upstairs with the translucent roof ghostly and guess i got a new boot thats fixing itself to elate another prisoner upstate where the worries are always about the women. Yeah, that women with the diamond ring with her children by her side thinking about the monastery she never visited a big time act act act in a dress that helped her enough and forgot about the rest. But we all move on quick to detest times test with the burritos that she never ate because of the figure she imposed that she got from her transistor radio and the yearly subscriptions of the ghostly ghost that haunted her in the moat around the castle of stairs up ripunzel with dragons a aflame listening to the same wishy washer story of old uncle Maury and the twenty ten twelve salute to the mastery of the fiction of listening, another riddle in the twiddle beneath the sheets that were once painted gold but her husband done left her and she's moving to seattle to start up some new cattle spreading the seed of 1910 where time stands still with his drink in his hand because the guy has got to get around to something with all that talent, with all that anger with all that impulse that proves itself time and time again it will never be enough for a salvation sanitation with the twisty fro's of yearly ye and ye bouts of fights she twisted in that shout that she knew, she knew she swears, what it was all about.
0
May 6, 2011
May 6, 2011 at 10:10 PM UTC
Big Old Jade Necklace
Big old jade earring hung from that haunted necklace, swinging from this and that and the other way where and if that sky upstairs let go of the thing I wanted you to be but a break in the system, no a malfunction in that suction of a love that you tried to forget about but feel those typing keys on the fingers that break knees and the heels up and up with the ***** a lingerin' and thats sounding like a new pounding, the one upstairs with the translucent roof ghostly and guess i got a new boot thats fixing itself to elate another prisoner upstate where the worries are always about the women. Yeah, that women with the diamond ring with her children by her side thinking about the monastery she never visited a big time act act act in a dress that helped her enough and forgot about the rest. But we all move on quick to detest times test with the burritos that she never ate because of the figure she imposed that she got from her transistor radio and the yearly subscriptions of the ghostly ghost that haunted her in the moat around the castle of stairs up ripunzel with dragons a aflame listening to the same wishy washer story of old uncle Maury and the twenty ten twelve salute to the mastery of the fiction of listening, another riddle in the twiddle beneath the sheets that were once painted gold but her husband done left her and she's moving to seattle to start up some new cattle spreading the seed of 1910 where time stands still with his drink in his hand because the guy has got to get around to something with all that talent, with all that anger with all that impulse that proves itself time and time again it will never be enough for a salvation sanitation with the twisty fro's of yearly ye and ye bouts of fights she twisted in that shout that she knew, she knew she swears, what it was all about.
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2
Love thy neighbour,  so the Bible says But dont covet his wife it will get you in strife! Don't look at her body when she calls Ignore her curves and her beconing calls Your wife suggested you helped her out Does she really now what its about? That day you called when he was out It wasn't those tools it was all about All so innocent till she touched your chest It went downhill and then to bed A frantic tryst one afternoon Cries off passion and moans were heard Then hubby came home and saw you there The game was up amongst other things Two marriages ruined and a family split All for the sake of a bit of "it" For the wife had watched and often seen The postman or the huge marine She had plans all her own And saw the means to make them so Sow the seed and watch it grow A perfect plan to get divorced All she needed to pull it off Was for them to be caught A perfect plot She hadn't planned on the neighbours anger When he saw another bang her So both barells he loosed into them And sent upstate for ****** two Far more than her plan had ever required And now no alimony as hubby died!! So love thy neighbour is all well and good Just don't get caught if your stupid enough!
0
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 10:17 AM UTC
loving the neighbour
She came into my life a karmic explosion over a pristine midnight blue upstate New York lake, its breath damp and warm and sweet. Gasping, labored efforts expelled a preganant breath, a prelude to life. Blackflies engaged in rutualistic seance. Lethagic mosquitos emerged from the evening's sweet mist. But then raged into frantic spirals, squealing out futile messages. Timid pines, guardians of the ancient site, loosed their rigid stance, Prickly spines shivered to the ground. Anxiously, they awaited rumors that would quell the fetal dread that flowed through veins, invading their bliss. A bulky mass stirred from somnolent state in that mud-lined basin, releasing brown ribbons of agitation, and inciting a ravenous hunger. Friendly galaxies, former guides in his dream state, abandoned his cause, flickering a vague adieu. Having cradled him for so long, the slick muddy floor now sent him flailing to and fro, an ungainly dance, embarassing to watch. Where once he thrived, he now gasped for air.
0
Sep 10, 2012
Sep 10, 2012 at 12:10 AM UTC
For Bob
Watching milk pour into little ziploc bags with bananas and Cheerios and fights over which fruit better invokes the feeling of sunrise, of home and morning eye crust and blown curtains in summer breeze. Strawberries don't stain dresses as much as blackberries from a friend's farm in upstate New York or Eastern Washington or some ranch in coastal Venezuela with coffee and sugar smells stuck on sticky skin and licking juice from sweet fingertips right before it starts to rain. When February sun peeks through cumulus clouds after a five-day downpour, you turn your face to mine and proclaim that the world may be beautiful and youthful, after all.
0
Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 12:58 PM UTC
Morning Meal
Back in upstate New York she was a girl with stars in her eyes She hopped a freight out westward And tried Vegas on for size Off strip hotels, little shows Young Delores danced with glee She was working in Las Vegas the home of Jubilee "Do you have a minute folks?' "Do you need tickets for a show?" "Will you be in town tonight?" "There's a place you need to go" "Will you be in town tomorrow?" "We could send you for a meal" "You just have to see our condo's" "It's a real fantastic deal" Twenty years upon the strip Wearing fruit baskets on her head Delores was a showgirl Even though the shows were dead She danced backup for lounge singers She was with Wayne Newton for a while She still had all the attributes That made the tourists smile "Do you have a minute folks?' "Do you need tickets for a show?" "Will you be in town tonight?" "There's a place you need to go" "Will you be in town tomorrow?" "We could send you for a meal" "You just have to see our condo's" "It's a real fantastic deal" Time went by as it always does Her body said "No more" Dancing in the big time shows Had made her body sore Options down in Vegas For ex-showgirls were not good But she wasn't going east again Even though folks said she should "Do you have a minute folks?' "Do you need tickets for a show?" "Will you be in town tonight?" "There's a place you need to go" "Will you be in town tomorrow?" "We could send you for a meal" "You just have to see our condo's" "It's a real fantastic deal" She didn't have the hands for dealing The casino was her second home But, she didn't want to waitress She was just too old to roam But in Vegas, there's a sub trade One she had the smile for She could still work in the casinos And help get people through the door "Do you have a minute folks?' "Do you need tickets for a show?" "Will you be in town tonight?" "There's a place you need to go" "Will you be in town tomorrow?" "We could send you for a meal" "You just have to see our condo's" "It's a real fantastic deal" Selling timeshares to the folks Who come in all the time They could get free shows and dinners And it wouldn't cost a dime Delores was still a show girl But, it was not the same by far But, she was still selling in Vegas And Delores was still a star "Do you have a minute folks?' "Do you need tickets for a show?" "Will you be in town tonight?" "There's a place you need to go" "Will you be in town tomorrow?" "We could send you for a meal" "You just have to see our condo's" "It's a real fantastic deal"...
0
Feb 6, 2013
Feb 6, 2013 at 7:15 PM UTC
"Do You Have a Minute?"
Back in upstate New York she was a girl with stars in her eyes She hopped a freight out westward And tried Vegas on for size Off strip hotels, little shows Young Delores danced with glee She was working in Las Vegas the home of Jubilee "Do you have a minute folks?' "Do you need tickets for a show?" "Will you be in town tonight?" "There's a place you need to go" "Will you be in town tomorrow?" "We could send you for a meal" "You just have to see our condo's" "It's a real fantastic deal" Twenty years upon the strip Wearing fruit baskets on her head Delores was a showgirl Even though the shows were dead She danced backup for lounge singers She was with Wayne Newton for a while She still had all the attributes That made the tourists smile "Do you have a minute folks?' "Do you need tickets for a show?" "Will you be in town tonight?" "There's a place you need to go" "Will you be in town tomorrow?" "We could send you for a meal" "You just have to see our condo's" "It's a real fantastic deal" Time went by as it always does Her body said "No more" Dancing in the big time shows Had made her body sore Options down in Vegas For ex-showgirls were not good But she wasn't going east again Even though folks said she should "Do you have a minute folks?' "Do you need tickets for a show?" "Will you be in town tonight?" "There's a place you need to go" "Will you be in town tomorrow?" "We could send you for a meal" "You just have to see our condo's" "It's a real fantastic deal" She didn't have the hands for dealing The casino was her second home But, she didn't want to waitress She was just too old to roam But in Vegas, there's a sub trade One she had the smile for She could still work in the casinos And help get people through the door "Do you have a minute folks?' "Do you need tickets for a show?" "Will you be in town tonight?" "There's a place you need to go" "Will you be in town tomorrow?" "We could send you for a meal" "You just have to see our condo's" "It's a real fantastic deal" Selling timeshares to the folks Who come in all the time They could get free shows and dinners And it wouldn't cost a dime Delores was still a show girl But, it was not the same by far But, she was still selling in Vegas And Delores was still a star "Do you have a minute folks?' "Do you need tickets for a show?" "Will you be in town tonight?" "There's a place you need to go" "Will you be in town tomorrow?" "We could send you for a meal" "You just have to see our condo's" "It's a real fantastic deal"...
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80
First, if I am comatose for a while pre-death, don't let them call me a fighter. I'm probably not fighting it. It's probably the first time I've been able to relax in a decade. Second, keep my death off the internet. Tell my friends of my demise with handwritten notes delivered by white-gloved butlers with somber expressions. Tell my enemies by sitting on their chests and poking them in the forehead repeatedly until they guess how it happened. It shouldn't take long. Third, my friends from high school will immediately try to design stickers for their car windows with my name on them and a graphic of dance shoes or track shoes or my college mascot. You are not to allow this. A sticker denoting the death of a loved one will not keep fellow motorists from noticing that my friends from high school **** at driving. Not permitted at the funeral: Gerber daisies poetry blue jeans any ex-boyfriend I refer to by something other than their name (i.e. "the fat hipster I used to hang out with.") Encouraged at the funeral: Hugs - everyone must hug lots of appropriately sad, yet tasteful songs sung by my musically-minded loved ones (may I suggest "In Light of Time" by Phillip E. Silvey?) And make sure they bury me in the blue dress. Last, for every story they tell about me where I was kind or selfless or funny or caring, make sure someone also tells the story where I got too drunk at a frat house and made out with a kid from upstate New York and then spent four hours passed out and/or puking on the floor of the communal bathroom in Ashley's building, or the one where I punched Savannah in third grade, or the one where I rolled a car for no particular reason. Remember me as I was.
0
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 9:59 AM UTC
For when I get hit by a car in the Target parking lot and die
First, if I am comatose for a while pre-death, don't let them call me a fighter. I'm probably not fighting it. It's probably the first time I've been able to relax in a decade. Second, keep my death off the internet. Tell my friends of my demise with handwritten notes delivered by white-gloved butlers with somber expressions. Tell my enemies by sitting on their chests and poking them in the forehead repeatedly until they guess how it happened. It shouldn't take long. Third, my friends from high school will immediately try to design stickers for their car windows with my name on them and a graphic of dance shoes or track shoes or my college mascot. You are not to allow this. A sticker denoting the death of a loved one will not keep fellow motorists from noticing that my friends from high school **** at driving. Not permitted at the funeral: Gerber daisies poetry blue jeans any ex-boyfriend I refer to by something other than their name (i.e. "the fat hipster I used to hang out with.") Encouraged at the funeral: Hugs - everyone must hug lots of appropriately sad, yet tasteful songs sung by my musically-minded loved ones (may I suggest "In Light of Time" by Phillip E. Silvey?) And make sure they bury me in the blue dress. Last, for every story they tell about me where I was kind or selfless or funny or caring, make sure someone also tells the story where I got too drunk at a frat house and made out with a kid from upstate New York and then spent four hours passed out and/or puking on the floor of the communal bathroom in Ashley's building, or the one where I punched Savannah in third grade, or the one where I rolled a car for no particular reason. Remember me as I was.
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23
Walking along an Autumn afternoon in New York where in New York somewhere upstate somewhere downstate somewhere leaves fall in front of where I approach but land as a crash like a stray piece from construction high above. An afternoon where dreams of new where visions of more than just a few begin to fade to black as the sun’s signature upon my eyes recluses from the greyer skies. Now lost in New York I attempt to recover and sojourn forth from where I had been to somewhere somewhere different somewhere inspiring somewhere that brings out the best of not just a few but all the rest who wish who dream who ignite like fire as the presence of Autumn’s dimming light truly and finally does expire. ~Miguel
0
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 7:34 PM UTC
Light Up The Darkness
in response to matthew zapruder's "come on all you ghosts," section ii I. I see what you mean about fathers; lately my father has been the only ghost I know. He mostly stands in doorways, mostly to say goodnight. II. Please tell me more about what it’s like to listen to your father cough. Mine never has; I wasn’t even born yet when someone stole his lungs, hid them away in a graveyard. III. I think I want a keychain like yours. No not a keychain, but something just as much a corpse. Mostly just a portrait of my father, maybe I’ll take your keychain and onto it I’ll paint the portraits of everybody’s fathers. IV. I know I’m being called, but I don’t feel quite like my father yet. There is still so much pavement left for me to see, and one day I want to be able to list all of the names of places that I’ve lived in. V. I’ve lived mostly in wombs. Also there was the taxi, and then the apartment skewed with a crib and rats and some gunshots from down the street. Later there was the house by the river, and there was upstate, where they sat in beach chairs in the parking lots of gas stations and watched the cars drive by.
0
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 4:14 PM UTC
Homes
Frz have you forgotten me? I hear your voice, but its me saying do not listen Anyway I say, how are you? the court records a divorce, a child, and a republican, You were once a brooklynite, a beloved chassid gal, so hollow to hide, have you moved upstate? me? maybe inappropriately concerned I dreamt we will meet one day. I see you, you see me, then run away furtively, I race head long, trying to catch you, to touch you at last.   Mind numb, you duck in the LGBT centre.  I stop.   Leaving you to minds damnation and hell, a palace of fears, fool for years, you lead me down some steps, through an alley,  open a gate, and smile, stay here, you say, between two buildings.   I sit next to the garbage cans against a wall with leafless vines, its the first snow, you never said when you'd be back. It is now a year before I die, cars roll by noisily, far off a lone siren, someone is digging in the garbage for scraps, it seems impossible that inches away you were within my reach
0
Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 2:35 AM UTC
She leads running away
Life is but a country club. Weren’t you invited, dear? Intelligence quotients and aptitude tests, sorted by layers of filters and ciphers, to justly court the consummate lifers. Are you qualified? The waiting list is growing, and the company is getting anxious. Shall we take on some new members, or watch the squirming a little longer? Think about it this way, if you aren’t qualified - You can always try upstate. What a lovely estate! A half-smoked cuban cigar, and a watchman at the gate. No, you can’t trust the man who got lost in his mistakes. He is untrustworthy. Do be a doll though, Cindy, and send a nice postcard.
0
Aug 31, 2011
Aug 31, 2011 at 1:26 AM UTC
Country Club News (Old Blues)
i need this listerine for my bad breath he said, but i knew better than to give him a quarter. he begged me with blue eyes and every puff we exhaled into the back bay that grey morning. i’m here to help i answered him and i’ve been there- at McLean in ART, where the girls didn’t like me cause my music was a trigger. but i pulled through, sometimes on my own, with help from a court appointed drug group (even though i carpooled every wednesday in a baked out mini van). i’m here because day after day i dragged my spinning body to the toilet, sun dawning, to spew bright yellow fluid into the waiting water. and i’ve hit the ocean floor: i used to sniff the bowl to make the ***** come up faster. i’d say if i get up again in less than ten minutes, it’s gonna be a rough day (but yesterday started this way and i ended it with a beer in my hand anyway). i’m here because when officer spirito dragged my racing body through the hallways handcuffed, because of the purses missing from the locker room, i still spent the night on the closet floor rocking back and forth, knees to pounding chest, a hollow voice on the phone saying i’ll be fine (but i know that ***** cut with ether and i’m gonna need a hospital). i told my sponsor i wanna get clean cause dope is taking my friends one by one like bowling pins, and i’m lonely cause all my ex boyfriends are still locked up upstate. she just told me to pray to god (but everybody knows that prayer only works in emergencies). i’m here because that relapse my first year of college got me pretty close to death. i didn’t know i could puke that far and the emts didn’t know a heart could beat that fast. but **** the past and **** the future. i can’t say much about the rest of my life, but i can make sure i’m sober the rest of this night. you can get through centuries one hour at a time, so since i know what you want it for why would i give you that quarter? no response except a drop of spit hung from his silver beard like a pendulum, and the smell of the chicken i left to cook too long inside that soup kitchen. if i didn’t laugh, i would have cried the whole time that he said to me i need this listerine, baby, i need listerine i need this listerine for my bad breath.
0
Sep 28, 2011
Sep 28, 2011 at 12:11 AM UTC
my sober poem
i need this listerine for my bad breath he said, but i knew better than to give him a quarter. he begged me with blue eyes and every puff we exhaled into the back bay that grey morning. i’m here to help i answered him and i’ve been there- at McLean in ART, where the girls didn’t like me cause my music was a trigger. but i pulled through, sometimes on my own, with help from a court appointed drug group (even though i carpooled every wednesday in a baked out mini van). i’m here because day after day i dragged my spinning body to the toilet, sun dawning, to spew bright yellow fluid into the waiting water. and i’ve hit the ocean floor: i used to sniff the bowl to make the ***** come up faster. i’d say if i get up again in less than ten minutes, it’s gonna be a rough day (but yesterday started this way and i ended it with a beer in my hand anyway). i’m here because when officer spirito dragged my racing body through the hallways handcuffed, because of the purses missing from the locker room, i still spent the night on the closet floor rocking back and forth, knees to pounding chest, a hollow voice on the phone saying i’ll be fine (but i know that ***** cut with ether and i’m gonna need a hospital). i told my sponsor i wanna get clean cause dope is taking my friends one by one like bowling pins, and i’m lonely cause all my ex boyfriends are still locked up upstate. she just told me to pray to god (but everybody knows that prayer only works in emergencies). i’m here because that relapse my first year of college got me pretty close to death. i didn’t know i could puke that far and the emts didn’t know a heart could beat that fast. but **** the past and **** the future. i can’t say much about the rest of my life, but i can make sure i’m sober the rest of this night. you can get through centuries one hour at a time, so since i know what you want it for why would i give you that quarter? no response except a drop of spit hung from his silver beard like a pendulum, and the smell of the chicken i left to cook too long inside that soup kitchen. if i didn’t laugh, i would have cried the whole time that he said to me i need this listerine, baby, i need listerine i need this listerine for my bad breath.
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84
i remember meeting you in the back of house, where your words were loose and wild. i was brining some guests plates in that needed to be cleaned after their meal. i got to talking with some coworker about some bull **** coworkers talk about, probably complaining about some old lady who wanted truffle fries and only got regular fries. you had to chime in when there was a cadence with some ********** comment to display your manliness and status amongst your kitchen staff. that game always seemed counterproductive to me. you pinned me for someone i wasn't. i did the same to you. somehow along the way, between all your lewd remarks, we became friends. i believe it began over our affinity for the Buffalo Bills. You said you liked them because they were the underdogs and you hated the Miami Dolphins. I told you they were my hometown team and you said "no **** get the **** outa here. You're from Buffalo?" the way you said it lead me to assume you were from New York. You told me you were from upstate and missed it. I told you how much time my family spent up there in the summers, doing outdoorsy things. burning fires, drinking beer underage, walking barefoot through the forrest. we bonded. we learned a lot more about each other. you were divorced and knew that you could never love another woman as much as you loved your ex. she gave you two beautiful kids. she also took 3/4 of you paycheck and left you for broke. the rest you drank away with me when our shifts were over. you told me about your drug habits, and i told you about mine. i told you about my childhood and you said you were sorry. i helped you drive your kids to school when your ex wife was too busy. we got drunk and shot so much **** there was a chip on your shoulder. there was a chip on mine too. i got to see you cry when i accused you of using again. i think you knew what i said was true. i came down on you hard because i had just lost two jobs, a girlfriend i thought would have my children, and someone that lived in your apartment complex crashed into my brand new car while i was waiting on you. we were on the way to get your kids from school. you knew i meant well but i could see the guilt in your eyes. i helped you with your kids a handful of times after that. we would get breakfast after and talk about work and women. after work we'd get ****** and eat at some small Mexican stand in 90 degree weather. i fell asleep at the wheel and totaled my car some time later. shortly after i left for tour and then you died. some secrets you take to the grave. thank you.
0
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 3:24 AM UTC
truffle fries
i remember meeting you in the back of house, where your words were loose and wild. i was brining some guests plates in that needed to be cleaned after their meal. i got to talking with some coworker about some bull **** coworkers talk about, probably complaining about some old lady who wanted truffle fries and only got regular fries. you had to chime in when there was a cadence with some ********** comment to display your manliness and status amongst your kitchen staff. that game always seemed counterproductive to me. you pinned me for someone i wasn't. i did the same to you. somehow along the way, between all your lewd remarks, we became friends. i believe it began over our affinity for the Buffalo Bills. You said you liked them because they were the underdogs and you hated the Miami Dolphins. I told you they were my hometown team and you said "no **** get the **** outa here. You're from Buffalo?" the way you said it lead me to assume you were from New York. You told me you were from upstate and missed it. I told you how much time my family spent up there in the summers, doing outdoorsy things. burning fires, drinking beer underage, walking barefoot through the forrest. we bonded. we learned a lot more about each other. you were divorced and knew that you could never love another woman as much as you loved your ex. she gave you two beautiful kids. she also took 3/4 of you paycheck and left you for broke. the rest you drank away with me when our shifts were over. you told me about your drug habits, and i told you about mine. i told you about my childhood and you said you were sorry. i helped you drive your kids to school when your ex wife was too busy. we got drunk and shot so much **** there was a chip on your shoulder. there was a chip on mine too. i got to see you cry when i accused you of using again. i think you knew what i said was true. i came down on you hard because i had just lost two jobs, a girlfriend i thought would have my children, and someone that lived in your apartment complex crashed into my brand new car while i was waiting on you. we were on the way to get your kids from school. you knew i meant well but i could see the guilt in your eyes. i helped you with your kids a handful of times after that. we would get breakfast after and talk about work and women. after work we'd get ****** and eat at some small Mexican stand in 90 degree weather. i fell asleep at the wheel and totaled my car some time later. shortly after i left for tour and then you died. some secrets you take to the grave. thank you.
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2
I loved it, whitewater rafting in the Adirondacks, sleeping in tents cooking on woodsmoke having a joke with the New Yorker yokels known locally as the locals. It was Yellowstone that stole my heart, rings of fire on the end of a rainbow dreams that we lived and we lived for the dream, all the rest is just history and most of that went to the scrapyard.
0
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 12:26 PM UTC
Upstate
There was heat lightning as I walked back home that night. it was Saturday, or rather, Sunday, 5 am, still dark when I got his text and I wondered this: how far can two strangers go? how quick can two fall in Love, and just how quick does it take for ignorance to come on? Love is not Love anymore. but I’ll admit to missing this, only to you, my reader: I do sometimes miss the sight of my once lover walking towards our table with two cups of coffee in hand. he hasn’t memorized my order yet, and I’m content with this. it’s moving slowly, we’re just friends that happen to spend a lot of time together, and share favorite movies, and favorite songs, and could listen to a newly discovered old album all the way through just lying on his bed and gazing at each other. we could stare into the other’s eyes till we found our own reflection. he was in me as much as I was in him. Love is not love anymore when I’ve left that part of me in upstate new york, in another land. Love is being content. but I am not content with myself or my others that try to be significant, like the one who sent that text, hopeless, romantic, and misguided. I am not in Love, reader, not since him. so when I got this text and he said that he could imagine us together, holding hands, in a state beyond nice, simple, naïve, simplistic friendship, I paused stuck in my place, for long enough that the lightning had a chance to greet the storm. the rain pummeled down, extraterrestrial, and the bag of White Castle burgers I carried disintegrated. as the bag narrowed down in size, sliders plopping down onto the pavement I kept running towards my home, trying to forget that our friendship was in question. Love is not love anymore. it scares me more than it should. I’d rather let my seven dollars go to waste, than give into love’s blind, bitter taste. I’d rather my toms be pounded down into the pavement by the rain and later spend three days drying in the back of my closet and have the security guard stare at me, confused, as the last of my sliders fall down onto the sidewalk outside his door. “That’s a mess,” he says, as if I didn’t know, and he makes no move to help me clean it up, so I choose not to reply to him.
0
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 10:02 PM UTC
heat lightning (love is not love anymore)
There was heat lightning as I walked back home that night. it was Saturday, or rather, Sunday, 5 am, still dark when I got his text and I wondered this: how far can two strangers go? how quick can two fall in Love, and just how quick does it take for ignorance to come on? Love is not Love anymore. but I’ll admit to missing this, only to you, my reader: I do sometimes miss the sight of my once lover walking towards our table with two cups of coffee in hand. he hasn’t memorized my order yet, and I’m content with this. it’s moving slowly, we’re just friends that happen to spend a lot of time together, and share favorite movies, and favorite songs, and could listen to a newly discovered old album all the way through just lying on his bed and gazing at each other. we could stare into the other’s eyes till we found our own reflection. he was in me as much as I was in him. Love is not love anymore when I’ve left that part of me in upstate new york, in another land. Love is being content. but I am not content with myself or my others that try to be significant, like the one who sent that text, hopeless, romantic, and misguided. I am not in Love, reader, not since him. so when I got this text and he said that he could imagine us together, holding hands, in a state beyond nice, simple, naïve, simplistic friendship, I paused stuck in my place, for long enough that the lightning had a chance to greet the storm. the rain pummeled down, extraterrestrial, and the bag of White Castle burgers I carried disintegrated. as the bag narrowed down in size, sliders plopping down onto the pavement I kept running towards my home, trying to forget that our friendship was in question. Love is not love anymore. it scares me more than it should. I’d rather let my seven dollars go to waste, than give into love’s blind, bitter taste. I’d rather my toms be pounded down into the pavement by the rain and later spend three days drying in the back of my closet and have the security guard stare at me, confused, as the last of my sliders fall down onto the sidewalk outside his door. “That’s a mess,” he says, as if I didn’t know, and he makes no move to help me clean it up, so I choose not to reply to him.
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55
By: Cedric McClester Bein' locked up Ain’t an asset And prison isn’t (a right of passage) Don’t tell me where you been Get yourself past it It’s time to wake up You stupid ******* I’m gettin tired of hearing ****** talk about How long they went in fo’ Once they come out And there ain’t nothin' That I find more aggravatin' Than hearin bout cases That they got waitin Or when they'll walk out Of the prison gate Because they doin time Somewhere upstate Now I ain’t mad at ‘em Because of their plight I just wish they wouldn’t Take so much delight Bein locked up Ain’t an asset And prison isn’t (a right of passage) Don’t tell me where you’ve been You stupid ******* It’s time to wake up And get yo’ *** past it I know some of y’all Can relate To doin time Somewhere upstate And you've engaged in The idle chatter Like the time you did As if it mattered And we can find A true paradigm Like a broken wrist-watch That keeps losing time I realize you may be Keepin it real Cos someone convinced you Prison is the deal Bein' locked up Ain’t an ssset And prison isn’t (a right of passage) Don’t tell where you’ve been Get yourself past it It’s time to wake up You stupid ******* You run off the names Like they finishing schools But they’re been erected To house you fools I don’t fault a man For making a living If they've factored in The time they'll be given Especially if they get caught And take a fall For throwing bricks At the penitentiary wall What I’m tryin to say is Get a grip Before you wind up Taking a bus trip Bein' locked up Ain’t an asset And prison isn’t (a right of passage) Don’t tell where you’ve been Get yourself past it It’s time to wake up You stupid ******* Prison isn't What it's cracked up To be And if you been there I’m sure you’ll agree You know what you did While you were in Sodomy's ****** And it's still a sin See havin prison muscles Don’t make you a man If you were tossin salad Inside the slam So if you ever been in Let that be your secret I don’t wanna know Why don't you keep it Bein' locked up Ain’t an asset And prison isn’t (a right of passage) Don’t tell me where you’ve been Get yourself past it It’s time to wake up You stupid ******* How many baby daddies Ain’t around Because of bad choices Now they’re on locked down Waiting for commissary And some cigarettes That they use to barter And pay their debts Then history repeats itself Know what I mean And the child takes the same road That his father’s been It’s an ongoing saga That just doesn't end You know what I’m talkin' ‘bout So don’t pretend Bein' locked up Ain’t an asset And prison isn’t (a right of passage) Don’t tell me where you’ve been Get yourself past it It’s time to wake up You stupid ******* (c) Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester. All rights reserved.
0
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 12:54 PM UTC
PRISON ISN'T (A Rite of Passage)
By: Cedric McClester Bein' locked up Ain’t an asset And prison isn’t (a right of passage) Don’t tell me where you been Get yourself past it It’s time to wake up You stupid ******* I’m gettin tired of hearing ****** talk about How long they went in fo’ Once they come out And there ain’t nothin' That I find more aggravatin' Than hearin bout cases That they got waitin Or when they'll walk out Of the prison gate Because they doin time Somewhere upstate Now I ain’t mad at ‘em Because of their plight I just wish they wouldn’t Take so much delight Bein locked up Ain’t an asset And prison isn’t (a right of passage) Don’t tell me where you’ve been You stupid ******* It’s time to wake up And get yo’ *** past it I know some of y’all Can relate To doin time Somewhere upstate And you've engaged in The idle chatter Like the time you did As if it mattered And we can find A true paradigm Like a broken wrist-watch That keeps losing time I realize you may be Keepin it real Cos someone convinced you Prison is the deal Bein' locked up Ain’t an ssset And prison isn’t (a right of passage) Don’t tell where you’ve been Get yourself past it It’s time to wake up You stupid ******* You run off the names Like they finishing schools But they’re been erected To house you fools I don’t fault a man For making a living If they've factored in The time they'll be given Especially if they get caught And take a fall For throwing bricks At the penitentiary wall What I’m tryin to say is Get a grip Before you wind up Taking a bus trip Bein' locked up Ain’t an asset And prison isn’t (a right of passage) Don’t tell where you’ve been Get yourself past it It’s time to wake up You stupid ******* Prison isn't What it's cracked up To be And if you been there I’m sure you’ll agree You know what you did While you were in Sodomy's ****** And it's still a sin See havin prison muscles Don’t make you a man If you were tossin salad Inside the slam So if you ever been in Let that be your secret I don’t wanna know Why don't you keep it Bein' locked up Ain’t an asset And prison isn’t (a right of passage) Don’t tell me where you’ve been Get yourself past it It’s time to wake up You stupid ******* How many baby daddies Ain’t around Because of bad choices Now they’re on locked down Waiting for commissary And some cigarettes That they use to barter And pay their debts Then history repeats itself Know what I mean And the child takes the same road That his father’s been It’s an ongoing saga That just doesn't end You know what I’m talkin' ‘bout So don’t pretend Bein' locked up Ain’t an asset And prison isn’t (a right of passage) Don’t tell me where you’ve been Get yourself past it It’s time to wake up You stupid ******* (c) Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester. All rights reserved.
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124
The more you seek the more you know Whether it be in an upstate penthouse Or a lavender tree surrounded bungalow The mind, an unfathomable garden of planted scriptures, undefined. The heart yelps, the voices blow   Initiative galore of intriguing canvases follow One does not see, one does not hear But sense is beyond the limits of sorrow I would like to see, I would like to hear Albeit constant delusions of fear Created to seek what's beyond the border I rest in assurance, one day the tendency of denial won't wander
0
Aug 19, 2017
Aug 19, 2017 at 11:57 AM UTC
Amidst Wander
By: Cedric McClester I’m in the streets Tryin to get some flow I do what I gotta When my paper’s low But I love my baby And she lets me know That what we have Can only grow I’m as much hers As she is mine I love my baby She’s a special kind I did the crime But she did my time Hood love saved me And it’s good love baby I’m on my grind Both night and day I do what I do For the pay But she don’t care What people say My baby loves me Anyway I’m as much hers As she is mine I love my baby She’s a special kind I did the crime But she did my time Hood love saved me And it’s good love baby They found my stash She took the weight But some of y’all Find it hard to relate How could I Let her go upstate But for me it was life Her less than eight See I appreciate The love she gave me There’s no ifs ands Buts or maybe She’s the mashed potatoes And I’m the gravy Hood love saved me And it’s good love baby They found my stash She took the weight But some of y’all Find it hard to relate How could I Let her go upstate But for me it was life Her less than eight I’m as much hers As she is mine I love my baby She’s a special kind I did the crime But she did my time Hood love saved me And it’s good love baby (c) Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester.  All rights reserved.
0
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 1:00 PM UTC
HOOD LOVE
Two soldiers Who write together Question life's Serenities Loving words Is a craft Of crazy wastefulness And tastelessness I forget at times That the moon Does but one job And the flowers Dewy, yellow, and ****** Lay there Looking nifty Laugh at the clothed mother At the way she prances And dances At her own secret sorrows She knows But is unable to show A word Is a word With one thousand meanings Some are demeaning: **** you **** my **** Lick my duck Your never enough But whom do I truly talk to? An illiterate With already enough of the jive **** Or maybe A stronghold of a woman With a temper tantrum Of an intellectual But a face of suction Grudges ain't never enough For they share no sense Of absolute solitude To write To be alone To cry And then die And to then reach readers Where ever they may be Will ask, Why? Why? Why? Ha! All who strive to feel Love to be beaten But they are the ones with the questions And we are the ones with the answers? Go to the monsters upstate They've been signing all their papers With ink blots and officially posted dates A will less man In a world un-renewed Is a follower In a loser's shoe
0
Feb 27, 2011
Feb 27, 2011 at 9:20 PM UTC
Repetition
Careening moonlight You show me what I once Thought was right I drink now for the sake of mankind The bullet casings reflect the Sun as the wine in my cup Sloshes from right to left and My own life is not my own - A price to pay for theft I love you You make me The way I am And I press my mind To these keys And realize everything and Nothing in the end will Be alright In solitude I pray to creation Seeing that life is merely A bottle And when its empty It ain't worth a **** Tasting the stars in their Brilliance of absence I recollect my own upbringing And remember my hallow mother Singing her nightly hymns But to begin with memories are To step in the backgrounds of Imaginations personal horrors, own borrows, The lonely tunnels of a city long since dead That instead of exhaling we try Inhaling; pressing Death right back I am young I am old I am a story That has already Been told Yet I Live on I smile I smell the scents Of a world gone and Past and taste at last The current of the river The wind of the crass A life that has Already ended But has no ambition To Pass Self held in my own vices The upstate prices of page to brain Makes me shutter as the gutter Winces in its realizations of the brandishing Blade of the horses with their war My existence presses Her finger upon The broken page of the unstoppable cops Where I stop to think where then my Life - though good - has spoiled quite abrupt Oh to obey in sun struck love Where the only thing that is real is above But anything I recall I forget A smile that says to me "not yet" I once thought I was close But see now I am so far away If asked to stay I don't know what I'd say Each countless pride Has its side Just like the ocean in Her majesty And unseen tides Again I slip into a smile A false breathe As I take my body back In high stealth Asking myself *What exactly Is the matter?*
0
Sep 16, 2012
Sep 16, 2012 at 4:54 AM UTC
Absent Crescents of Forgotten Times on a Sunday
Careening moonlight You show me what I once Thought was right I drink now for the sake of mankind The bullet casings reflect the Sun as the wine in my cup Sloshes from right to left and My own life is not my own - A price to pay for theft I love you You make me The way I am And I press my mind To these keys And realize everything and Nothing in the end will Be alright In solitude I pray to creation Seeing that life is merely A bottle And when its empty It ain't worth a **** Tasting the stars in their Brilliance of absence I recollect my own upbringing And remember my hallow mother Singing her nightly hymns But to begin with memories are To step in the backgrounds of Imaginations personal horrors, own borrows, The lonely tunnels of a city long since dead That instead of exhaling we try Inhaling; pressing Death right back I am young I am old I am a story That has already Been told Yet I Live on I smile I smell the scents Of a world gone and Past and taste at last The current of the river The wind of the crass A life that has Already ended But has no ambition To Pass Self held in my own vices The upstate prices of page to brain Makes me shutter as the gutter Winces in its realizations of the brandishing Blade of the horses with their war My existence presses Her finger upon The broken page of the unstoppable cops Where I stop to think where then my Life - though good - has spoiled quite abrupt Oh to obey in sun struck love Where the only thing that is real is above But anything I recall I forget A smile that says to me "not yet" I once thought I was close But see now I am so far away If asked to stay I don't know what I'd say Each countless pride Has its side Just like the ocean in Her majesty And unseen tides Again I slip into a smile A false breathe As I take my body back In high stealth Asking myself *What exactly Is the matter?*
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81
All yearling spring birds far from distant home, Xanthic in Gothic gospels soot and yolk, Where's one's soft spoken voice to calm me on the phone? Formidable pulses, The danger of convulsion's spread on like buttered oil!!! Enormity soil's the defendant delirium... Such agnostic aquariums stinkingly similar upstate! Broken lives to sunset drive, Specimen speckles, Forcible tassels hover one's decree!! Litigious locust's buzz creepingly, Indecently exposing all's funk!!! Concauctions of fake adoption's, Concievers break locks off trunks!!! Omit me out of this obdurate oasis, Wherein one feel's spacious, Free to cometh and goeth!!! Freedom doth thou know? Operatic Mrs and Mr's, Minuets for thy ridiculed wishes!! Ponderer of newness, Cleaner's as thy tub spills over, Thy heels click together just to get thy kicks!!! Hit the streets thou feathered bird of no beak, Thou tally marker of no means!!! Foreman to thy own people's idea's, Nourish me with a new novice, Nurture me with heartbrake hotel, Buildeth me a standing ovation of a one love palace!!! Brave heart fairytale, Doth thou stand to move about? Listener of radio tunes, Art thou close?? ©Brandon nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry
0
Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 8:50 AM UTC
Fall springbird ( repost of old prison poetry)
Surrounded by the lake, no soaking clothes glued to my skin Just the ice cold water hugging me tightly. The sound of the small lake waves lapping against the tiny, brown beach Aside from my splashing and the occasional birds in the woods Was the only thing that pierced the quiet of a silent, cloudy day. The air was cold but the water was colder, A frigid blanket hiding whatever lurked below. The joy on my face was undeniable Despite hidden under the tendrils of the loose strands of my tied up hair. The New York mountain air combined with the lake scent Despite the cold July afternoon Undeniably smelled like summer. Freshwater smells different than saltwater, Like sugar cookies baking instead of chocolate chip. And the taste of those freshwater summer sugar cookies Are a taste I refuse to forget.
0
Nov 3, 2017
Nov 3, 2017 at 12:19 AM UTC
Upstate Skinny Dipping
i. a message from a boy i don’t know that begins with, “i’m J’s cousin, i’m trying to locate her, can you....” i don’t know how to deal with those who promise death, so i don’t finish reading it, bile mixed with guilt building in my throat. last night J told me her body was falling apart. i didn’t know how to respond. i know bodies without bones too well but i don’t know how to talk about them. i don’t know how to parse away the skin from the bone of a pig when i’m standing in the middle of a cold barn, more naked than i was when i was born. ii. i am naked with boys who i don’t know, but who fold me in half anyway, then fold me apart, then spit me out like i am the bitter taste of a dead dog. iii. keeseville, ny is upstate is a place for stained dresses & burnt milk & spoiled prayers, where i spent every summer in a body made for somebody smaller. i’m realizing now that i’m not small, everyday i’m the opposite of small, but these boys still look at me with frightening scrutiny like i’m a goat who belongs in a bed & if i’m not pet, not fed, i will give out. iv. sun hangs across the sky like blood across my underwear. yours or mine? from which part of the body?
0
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 8:07 PM UTC
body poem