You should have said, yes
to the guy who asked you out at work
he could listen to your paranoia
so we wouldn’t have to
a lover would have better ears
Tag Archives: original poem
Post Hoc Death Blues?
Traffic seemed to sludge by us and the sun hit our collective black shroud. While my sisters son hid in front of me from pretty middle school girls yelling behind us, “Hey! Tyler!”, my sister, with red hair flowing and freckles gleaming in the light, said that Verona air smells like peaches and gasoline. Tyler’s friends were probably drinking cokes, eating disco fries and fun-dip, and talking about hot girls. Babies were being born somewhere, babies were dying somewhere, and I couldn’t deal with the intensity, so I put on my glasses to hide while we smiled to the girls because: What else do you do?!
It was a forgiving father that I saw at the post office smiling, but grimacing, because his daughter filled out a form wrong so they had to do it all over again.
And it was a smile because death is awkward and peaches and gasoline create beautifully fucked up tension.
So what else do you do besides calmly submit to the horrors of the endlessly intricate world, and smile in a confused transparent bubble.
Lost At Sea
I am lost at sea
and this doggie paddle
ain’t doin’ much
against these twelve foot
monsters
that just keep
coming and coming and coming…
406
Don’t let go, don’t let go. What was once yours, slipping ever so slowly.
Lost focus. Carelessness. Pride.
Tighten your grip, C’mon, before it’s too late. Don’t let go.
Stop standing idle, take control, tighten your grip.
For God’s sake, DO NOT LET GO.
That’s what happens. Juggling the unnecessary and humoring the needless.
Softening your grip.
Now too late, losing all control.
A once bolstering man, reduced to nothing.
Sweaty hands.. Just Don’t let go. Don’t let her go.
How did this happen..
Oceanus (son of Uranus and Gaea)
I’m a fucking Hurricane
and you’re the coast of Florida.
I’m the Ocean exploding over Sea-walls
and blasting winds throwing showers of Salt down with waterfalls of rain.
I hope you know how to swim,
Because if you don’t,
you’re going to be drowned and battered
into the hull of a ship
Or buried in an instant
beneath 900 tons of water.
I’m going to fill your lungs
and pull you out to me,
where in a seascape of such immensity
and glorious horrifying Augustial fear
blended with a sky of
Saintly blue-grey smears and Lividus hues,
a soul shaking battle of light and Darkness,
the last thing you will see
is me,
In every direction
as far as you can see
Pulling you into my depths,
Beneath the waves.
backyardea
remember our back-yard growing up?
all of those kingdoms and nations
and our Indian tribes?
The tree-house that we’d fill with waterballoons
by day
and sleeping-bags by night?
The secrets we’d tell
behind the garage
and the twigs and the mud
remember the hose in the summer-time
and the snow in the winter?
the forts and the acorns?
The cloudy days when we’d sit up the pine tree
or the clear warm nights
when we’d play man-hunt in
the neighborhood?
remember the sound of the leaves rushing through the trees
as the wind would blow?
the army men
and the bow that dad would let us shoot
the old pile of logs that we would find worms in?
remember trying to dig a swimming pool,
but it was just a hole?
when we would hide from Amir
behind those bushes?
remember when we had that old rope to swing on,
hanging from the big tree?
remember when we’d race down the sidewalk
on wagons and skateboards
with old plungers and fist-fulls
of pebbles?
remember going back there to hide
or to cry in the bushes
when we didn’t want to be found?
remember all the army-men
and the times when the world seemed to end
at the fence by Mr. Anseley’s house and the sidewalk
in the front yard?
Well I remember,
and I don’t know why
but it makes me cry
A Drive in the Hamptons
Taking a drive through the Hamptons is like a drive through zoo, and who would’ve knew that Animals could have such pretty cages? I know, it’s Dark, I shouldn’t laugh at them. The sign reads don’t mock the animals. But I don’t Want to mock them! What I Want to do is emancipate them, Just like PETA would have me do. This isn’t how these creatures should be behaving… They shouldn’t need this much medication. Why are they eating that? It’s Unnatural! Ugh that one just shat in her clean drinking water and then flushed it away down a pipe, What’s wrong with her? Wait upon closer inspection it appears They’re killing their own, as a part of some sort of Masochistic game, all they care about is themselves! Others are dying and suffering and fighting wars to support these imprisoned trolls…It’s as if they’re drinking the Blood of the Earth and all It’s inhabitants and calling it Romane Conti, as if they are Worship-worthy Kings of the Jungle dressed in Versace! This isn’t a zoo anymore, these aren’t animals…They’re Monsters. I don’t want to set monsters free. I guess they’re better off inn their cages. Get me out of here, because I’m done pretending. I don’t belong, And I don’t want to.
I’m Listening
I spoke with God today,
Out in the Ocean off of Brigantine New Jersey specifically,
near the south jetty.
God said storm clouds
and sheets of rain,
Whipping West winds and swells high as trees.
God said seagulls hung in the slate-gray sky
like kites over the Ocean
And blasts of arctic spray on my back,
and the Taste
of salt in my mouth.
I said tears and hoots
wordless howls and hollers.
I laughed and coughed up lungfulls of that batismal water
and let those winds rip through my salt-stiff hair.
I gave my body to the water
To God
I let it throw me and bury me
envelope me
Destroy me, if that was what God desired.
Yet God said a wet Marco stumbling out onto the beach,
smiling like a lunatic.
God happened to be eating at the same pinelands barbecue pit as I,
for I saw God in the faces of old wrinkled laughing African-American men and women,
and in the children playing in the sandy parking lot
among the pine cones and dried needles.
I saw God again that night, in the light of the setting sun
reflecting off of the sign for Route 40
and in the fireworks in the summer night
Exploding over the Pine Barrens
and in a flipped over Jeep on the side of the road,
flaming and spitting out smoke.
It’s been some kind of day
Helplessness
You are Helpless because you make it so,
and therefore
You disgust me.
The helpless
Cannot
be helped;
Let them snivel in their self-inflicted
Wounds and woes.
Get up
and take
what is yours to possess,
or fade.
HaHa Ha!
If all this is a joke,
Why aren’t you laughing?
It’s so fucking funny,
Oh my god
I think I’m winning
this game…
If you want to be
a winner with me,
Than you’d better do the same.
End of Evolution
Systems evolve
and creature evolve
Situations evolve
As the planets revolve
Feelings evolve
and plants evolve
Relationships evolve
and then dissolve
Spirits evolve
and landscapes evolve
Conflicts evolve
and then resolve
But today,
the Earth stops it’s spinning
and the muzzles of the guns have
gone cold and quiet;
the clouds have frozen
and thought has halted
and inchworms
have stopped their inching.
This is the End of Evolution.
The Patch (by Lynn)
It’s not the best time
for an egg to latch,
which is why I decided
to use the patch.
I went to the doctor
for a prescription,
so I can make
beautiful friction.
It may cause a rash,
but this contraceptive uses
only a lil’ cash.
I know this thing
screams “get me laid”
But who could tell
if it looks like a silly “band-aid”
Glad to say I’m safe,
even if the sticker may chafe,
I’m attached to the patch,
even if my hormones lack.
Different
I find myself in
a different space,
a different place,
surrounded by strange,
but familiar face.
The yet unknown
intrigues me so,
but it’s still a place,
I’m hesitant to go.
The more I stay,
the more I grow,
the more I realize what I’m
willing to show.
It’s beginning to become
from which we all must roam,
it’s beginning to become
home.
Lost
I’m swallowing this sadness
Licking the sweat off these bitter lips
I’m drowning in this crass-ness
Unsure of what’s next
I’m blinded by life
I’m struggling to see
I’m holding on to whatever
Seems closets to me
I’m digging in deeper
Plowing heels into dirt
Trying to stay upright
Just to avoid the hurt
So desperate to hold on
To whatever seems right
Life is just a mere eidolon
But it’s worth the fight
Just to give up
It would be so easy to go
Not sure if ill stick around
For the end of the show
I’m swallowing this sadness
Liking the sweat off these bitter lips
I’m drowning in this crass-ness
Unsure of what’s next
Original Poetry 