Social Poems Political Poems

small talk utterly betrayed me today prompted as usual by an eloquent barista to engage in witty dialogue I was unable to get over my deep sincerity and respond in kind there was a disappointment that rippled out for blocks it brought a premature end to a hug between young lovers six miles away

"have a piece of idea" they said as if it was a piece of cake I declined remembering the unpleasant aftertaste of contrivance

I believe the most enthusiastic reader of my poetry may have died today having never read it at all he fell out of the sixth story window of a friend's apartment in New York City, a budding poet himself he was sipping tea from a broken cup then leaned back to far and that was it

my laughter is bought and sold into slavery by this band of believers in a better tomorrow

I can remember the belt brown on one side black on the other perhaps an inch thick and worn the fear of actually turning my back on him I've seen movies depicting lashes all suffered by heros it's not the same as the sinking feeling of being beaten instead of cuddled thrashed instead of caressed by someone who might have loved you there was no affection in the history of my father's touch

I saw a diesel pickup nailing a little Volkswagen from behind there was a beauty in it car egos vanishing in an awkward silence

the day I punched my terrible father for the first time making future beatings at his unloving hands all the more unlikely was not a good day on the stairs that descended into a dark basement victory ugly shameful unpleasant incomplete reclaiming a useless key now unable to open a stolen childhood

a fly seeking attention from so many humans finally gets some

this poem has made itself available for the reader's projection (that means you) the space immediately following this text is the most significant part as it is where what you yearn for most can be deposited as an image with the knowledge that yearning is inevitable and GOOD for it is a great way to know how deeply we care (imagine here)

what do these two suffer from? trying to put my finger on it smells like arrogance it's certainty! that's what it is they suffer from certainty! that's it exactly (oops, I mean... one might guess)

the first caller gets to rummage through my mind and pick out as many words as possible in ten minutes

two walls that are paid for a phone call reaching out across a dime or twenty cents or whatever year it is land with a name on it borders on country dotted lines you can view from space divisions by race and who wins wins a moment without bounds so pitch a tent and choose your tense future or past or many presents one needn't long for any once a year or something non-tense without any stuff or nonsense

cop on a cell phone what is allowable maintains a shape in his head like three colors only red, white and blue god how lonely an ugly right and a very wrong singing to itself this tired old song let FREEDOM ring! as nature finally places the all-important call to his consciousness

playing in a field of meaning a created world of making ends meet ends that would otherwise meet all by themselves given a trust in nature a nature that is no-one a nature that is everyone a nature that is all that ever shows up anywhere a nature that can not be but what it is a nature that is one the nameless Tao can you control what you hold dear? even in the headlights there's no helping help it's there when you reach out for it and gone as soon as you have taken it seriously

feeling bludgeoned by the psyches of others is simply the struggle to fit a large thing in a small space the refined in the unrefined OF COURSE it will feel out of place cramped painful (like shit)

the only way those who can NOT manage to live in the present can manage at all is to maintain a threat towards those who can vague threats complete with negative visions of futures and consequences vague threats and a sad belief for themselves in second chances having lived for circumstance alone

if you ask enough questions you will run out of answers (or just get sick of coming up with both)

IF YOU are thinking, you are reconciling IF YOU are simply being then you're okay with "what is" THINKING is a casting of images of what is not (created out of muddy memories of what may have been)

her contention was that I polluted her psychic environment with questions whereas in actuality it was accidentally cleared of assumptions

sometimes people ping each other like computers testing the water to see if another ego is there all to help define themselves to strengthen identification