Sunday, February 4, 2024

Untitled

I never thought we'd say goodbye in the fall

Leaves turning behind the backdrop of

An orange ball or that we'd say goodbye in 

Spring a strange imagining 

I never thought we'd come back together in

Winter although a body needs another's  warmth and care in the winter's tingling air

I always took for granted you'd be there in every season

I never thought we'd say goodbye at all in the 

Winter or the fall or in spring funny thing

Goodbye and all the Winter spring and fall    






Friday, December 9, 2022

Ashley Told Me

 Ashley Told Me

Ashley told me to write again said my
poems were beautiful
I have the exact eleven words they're
in a text

Sometimes I write of beautiful things
and I have comtempt for my admirers 
who can't tell a good poem from a bad
one
and I Inevitably hate the ones they like 
kind of how I hate myself which is often
Ashley told me to write again but this
poem is ugly

Thursday, May 20, 2021

Dreams

Dreams

Freud was a coke

addict and a nicotine

fiend I had a dream last

night of Heather

forty years ago she

lied about having cancer. Lots

of crazy dreams

these days

dead relatives my father makes

appearances

Was there ever a normal dream?

But what would Sigmund say? 

                                                           (May 2021)


\                                                





Sunday, March 21, 2021

Fugacious

You know a Muse can be fugacious

run into them every so often 

nothing more or less

even to the point of forgetting them

And I have written about them before

You never remember some

others nonpareil

and there's never knowing which will be which 

(March 2021)


The wind is blowing autumnal, a tree in the distance green and gold

the color of my favorite football team who just won last night.

I'm sitting in one of those famous bookstores that begin with the letter B.

No, not that one the other one.

I wish I were in New England where the leaves turn early

and it seems we'll have an early autumn here, but you never know.

Solitude and lonely swallow beautiful in the fall.

c. 2000?







                                                          


 

Saturday, March 13, 2021

For Ashley

The best four hours, thirty three minutes and

thirty three seconds

No hyperbole involved

although the chandelier morphed into

dancing skeletons

0 to 85 ain't bad just don't

hit a table but it looked like a chair

It is the smile that will get you hooked like a wino 

outside the liquor store at 9AM

Looking for the only late night eatery

after midnight

How can bare knuckled truth be this fun?

The nineteen eighties came gushing forth like an oil

well 

but wistful for another two hundred and seventy three minutes

Saturday, February 27, 2021

 


I need a new muse just like an alcoholic needs booze

and Hitler needed the Jews

I need a new muse just like B.B. King needed the blues

and a garbage man needs refuse

I need a new muse just like a detective

needs new clues and a church needs pews

and a club needs members who will pay their dues

and if I get the muse I will drink some booze

with some Jews and sing the blues

knock over a garbage can and spill refuse as the detective

will gather up all the clues

walk into a church and sit in the pews

throw a dollar in the offering plate and pay my dues

 

It was supposed to be about John Cage but right off the bat it was a mispronounced 

waitress call me Angie and mongoloidal sperm incontinence

appetizer sure

various and sundry photographs no dessert

coffee for me

the pleasure of pain

 --------------------------------------

You should never get married she said--just have a girlfriend

just fishing cause she took a course in Psychology.

Or don't get divorced.  Telling me of other dates and men

still texting her.  Connecting dots.  I wanted to leave the second

we met because people never look like their pictures especially 

when it's only their torsos, but I stayed knowing we never would see

each other but she thinks it's only her I'm sure who wants no more

of it 

                                              Waiting On The Deluge

 

The wind is tropical how odd for the 1st day of October

          And I'm waiting for the deluge just wishing it was over and

I may be leaving soon never coming back again and It'll be

when the leaves have fallen scattered in the wind

I'm waiting in the darkness and doubt is staying over oh I'm

waiting for the deluge in the wee hours of October and I

wish I were a young man but I know those days are over

and I'm sitting in the dark just waiting for the thunder and

I'm hoping that the deluge won't drag or pull me under and

I'm waiting for the deluge just knowing that it's over

        

           c.2010 

                                      ------------------------

                                   Leaving November

and the darkness like an endless tunnel

wishing for the light entering

approaching ennui

trying to stay awake

losing that battle

the trees have given up

defenses gone as I need a reason to

make sense of it all 


c.2010 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Wednesday, February 24, 2021




My Muse

I don't see her much anymore

blue eyed inquisitive like a child

Just like she was before 

 I never got to leave you/I hung on to the bitter end

as the house I grew up in slowly broke down

eerily knowing we were both leaving town

I knew you thought you'd die there but

that was not to be

and when you up and left, all you left was me

Now you live alone in the midst of

many others

as I write this poem

in my bedroom safely under the covers

Waiting For The Hurricane

I'm just sitting waiting for the hurricane as my friend baby sat 2 greyhounds on the Greyhound bus mixed with desperate lives in 1976 manic garrulous everyone from California to defunct Bombay their own stories I have tomorrow off waiting for the hurricane oh I heard there won't be much rain but someone said we'll get it bad I did not believe her something about Long Island getting it and so we usually do last time I heard it was heading for Massachusetts where they found the Olds 98 right around the time they demoted St. Christopher I was never the same after I stepped off that bus marked for life and here I sit late night/early morning waiting for the hurricane

                                              --------------------------------------------------------

Coming down from the mania wondering why you said and did what you did it wasn't                          long enough not embarrassing enough only dark hearted stuff the stuff you hope other                      people don't dare think or do secretly they will say you're moody                                                              if this is a poem it absolutely sucks it was only hypomania/no running down the street naked , no Jonathan Winters Patty Duke I only had my bathrobe and PJs purloined and worn right in front of my eyes after I got stabbed with a plastic knife that was 35 years ago emaciated almost invisible             now I stare at the future     

 


 

 

Tuesday, February 23, 2021

Soon I'll be meandering as green turns into yellow, red and brown

the wind will strafe the trees as it whistles like a hound

I'll be leaving you forever so far behind as I watch the leafless

trees and the road ahead unwind

And I'll stand upon the shore like a scarecrow in the rain

never caring what I'd lost

never knowing what I'd gained 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Monday, February 22, 2021

                                                 An Early Morning in Late September

                                          It's an early morning in late September

                                          and autumn just arrived.

                                          The morning seems so soft and tender

                                          and the moon is trying to hide.

                                          It's an early morning in late September,

                                          the beginning of another day.

                                          A day I just might not remember and there's

                                          just a few more things I want to say.

                                          I can hear the wind through the trees

                                          and soon I'll watch the turning of the leaves.

                                          Summer is just a memory in this early morning

                                          in late September.

                                          1982

 

 Don't Remember Me

Some folks like to be remembered.  Don't remember me.

I am not a model for little children to be.

Watch out for loners and guys with two first names.

They tend to lose their identities.  They have nothing

to lose.  They have nothing to gain, although many have

movies made about them.

They'll never write a movie about me.  My life is lame.

1977

-------

Stephanie blue eyes and wavy hair

looked straight ahead

stiff from medication

Stephanie roused the deadened air

with a beautiful song she sang in French

Stephanie fat and swollen in her calves

a young girl with dreams

unspoken

Stephanie stared and stared

and stared in silence unbroken

Stephanie sat in group unfurled

spoke of her father and a secret

desire

Stephanie brilliant, warped

poor girl with a brain on fire

1982




I live alone now I guess maybe that's my fault

Heading into fall too damp for good color they said on TV

This morning except maybe in the Adirondacks

I'm glad I got fair warning

So much depends on chlorophyll really but it only lasts so long

So I don't get touchy feely

I get contemplative in autumn when solitude barges in

You can see it in the trees and hear it in the wind 

Kansas

Kansas


Dry and dusty as I remember.

Flat as a pancake you could look it up!

The car must have been a deuce and a quarter or an Olds

with nine or was it seven girls on high school lunch.

The driver was corpulent and they said that I "talked funny."

The pretty girl in the front turned around to give me pointers

on hitchhiking, although I had already gone 1500 miles.

The only car with all females that picked me up the whole trip.

Can't blame them.

Later I was hitching as the dark sky loomed behind me.

A tornado warning

But I already had that warning the day I left home.



 

 

Monday, January 20, 2020

                                                     Beryl                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   21 you were, infectious smile nubian beauty in all your glory. Admire her? worship her? Take your pick. The picture did not look like you except I could tell by your hands.A  little blurry but your flower was showing and I never felt so  humble or unworthy or chosen dare I say

2020

Friday, January 17, 2020

Covered Bridge

                                                  Covered Bridge


Searching for the covered bridge and the leaves orange, yellow, red
in radiant brilliance soon to be dead
I found a small cafe in the sleepy corner of town while getting
off the merry go round
I grilled the lady at the counter like some old gumshoe sifting
false from true
I eschewed the coffee for a sandwich on rye thinking where I'd
been, where I was going and just how I'd get by
I stayed after closing like some drunk at 3 in the morning but
it was only 2 in the afternoon
I took a cell phone call  and decided that was all as I changed my mind                                              and took that Kenyan coffee out the door
driving through the multicolored countryside and wanting nothing
more

2015

Suzanne

                                                 
                                                    Suzanne


                            I had a dream about you last night
                            Naked from the back
                            It's been thirty years
                            Two houses down there would be
                            trouble in three years
                            Friends with benefits I guess they
                            would say today
                            Ah I could not love you and
                            I knew it
                           The next guy got you pregnant
                           As I slithered away in the autumn
                           leaves


                         2017

                           
                           

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Untitled

I like the hawk as it soars in the sky but
it can't stay forever
some day it will die as it plummets to the ground

Just a raptor swooping in
it's lonely at the top sometimes but
I wouldn't know just a poet
chasing rhymes

I'm a nighthawk flying in the dark
but I know the way
flapping through the rain and snow
but I'm just a wanderer with a pen in hand
and that's all I know