Ways To Eat

August 5th, 2017 — 10:53am

Some men eat everything

on their plate.

Some men come late

don’t even bother to phone.

Some men eat alone.

 

Some men eat everything

then ask for more.

Some men just ignore

tongue tied the need.

Some men for money’s sake

eat little, eat greed.

 

Some men eat greens first

the meat fast.

Some men don’t eat

meat at all.

Some men just fast

fishermen who last

and catch nothing at all.

 

Some men leave a little

on the plate.

Some men can’t wait

eat in the car three bars.

Some men metaphorically eat stars.

 

Some men take dessert.

Some men take two.

Some men just desert the table

the moment the main course is through.

 

Some men sup

from the bowl.

Some men slurp

or even burp cuz

the eatin’s the goal.

Some men sit quiet

waiting for the dinner bell’s toll.

 

Some men eat for

the taste of it.

Some men just out of habit.

Some men would never eat rabbit.

Some men don’t give a damn

about it.

 

Some men eat to soak up

the alcohol.

Some men just to be tall.

Some men eat to entertain

themselves.

Some men while waiting for wives

at the mall.

 

Some men eat to pass

the time of day.

Some men want but can’t

find another way.

Some men say prayers.

 

Some men eat their fill.

Some men test their will.

Some men smoke after their meal.

Some men eat only monkey and eel.

 

But every man eats

every man completes

himself

in a million myriad ways

food, the fulcrum of our days.

PDF Version

Comment » | More Poems, Poems

Mind Wide Open

July 30th, 2017 — 3:19pm

Beyond this day, the mind

that fools.

Beyond the eye, the make up

that rules.

Beyond hunger and satiation

Beyond want and need

the endless reaching and violation.

 

Beyond books and bombs

Beyond intelligence, weak or strong

Beyond the rules , this right or that wrong

Beyond lament and vision

Beyond death and non-living

Beyond what is never gone …….

 

Mind wide open.

PDF Version

Comment » | Poems

Happiness

June 30th, 2017 — 3:38pm

Happiness

is not a general thing.

It is not a state

it moves

and is digested

like salad leaves

off the plate.

 

Happiness

is not what is.

At rest it disappears

it is the eye of interest

a going there

a doing that

a mind that remakes all

an embracing even of that

which against us might just fall.

 

Happiness

is not a thing.

A car, a child that is mine

it is what can be

what might we always find

never looking behind

it is that fear unfounded

because the eye is up ahead.

Happiness a kind of compass

memory unbled.

 

Happiness

is what is alive.

That is each moment more

in interest

in possibility

how in thought

we can walk through

every door

pushed by the question

what is this life for?

 

PDF Version

Comments Off on Happiness | More Poems, Poems

You’re Never Gonna Win

June 28th, 2017 — 1:44pm

You’re never gonna win

not even if you

practice all day,

not even if you

get that nose job,

not even if you

win the lottery or

hit the triactor.

It’s just not gonna happen.

 

Entropy has us all in her

dirty hands.

There’s a loose nut in

every assembly line.

There’s a self-destruct button

blinking on and off

in everyone’s heart.

 

Best to not swim upstream.

Learn to love the toast on the floor,

jam side down

cuz

your ship always will be

going back out again

and

you’re never gonna win.

Get used to it.

There ain’t no Oz, Dorthy.

PDF Version

Comments Off on You’re Never Gonna Win | More Poems, Poems

Poetry by the numbers

June 17th, 2017 — 2:49pm

There is more plastic in our oceans

than fish.

More guns are fired each day

than kisses given.

We kill over 250,000 living organisms

each time we exhale.

 

100% of us will die.

Despite appearances

there is no tomorrow.

The day is sufficient

unto itself.

PDF Version

Comments Off on Poetry by the numbers | More Poems, Poems

To all my fellow suffering poets

June 9th, 2017 — 1:05pm

I got into my Range Rover

and headed to the beach.

On the way cashed a check

and loaded the cooler

with Patron and Dom Perrignon.

 

I called my stock broker

to tell him to send money

to my bookie.

I put 200 quid down on the 7th

Exterminator to win.

 

It’s a bitch being a poet

lying on the soft sand

cold drink in hand.

It’s a bitch pretending to be the

poor degenerate

everyone wants you the poet to be.

 

Read these poems of mine

‘nd make no

mention of who I am.

My jacuzzi isn’t big enough

nor does heaven

accept get out of jail free cards.

PDF Version

Comments Off on To all my fellow suffering poets | Poems

No Schaudenfreud

June 9th, 2017 — 12:48pm

The question is –

why is our happiness

so conditional on

our subjective belief

that we are better than

someone else?

 

I mean – holy shit!

 

Just think of it.

Our whole culture one

piss den of evil ego –

crabs clamoring over each other

to get out of the bucket.

Narcissists anonymouses

selfish worth

Dorian touch of gray.

It’s everything. It’s everywhere.

No wonder we don’t

have a word for it.

PDF Version

Comments Off on No Schaudenfreud | Poems

One Way Street

May 19th, 2017 — 12:54pm

You only get one go round.

No take 3 steps back cards.

No reset button

No buy one, get one free.

No spin again.

No time machine, no encores

Not even a U turn.

 

So you got 2 choices.

  1. Enjoy the ride and hope against hell there’s cotton candy and soda dished out by bosommed blond maidens after

or

2. flash your fleshy bottom at the fair master constantly turning the crank and making things move forward, round ‘n round.

 

You choose.

PDF Version

Comments Off on One Way Street | More Poems, Poems

Overrated

May 19th, 2017 — 12:48pm

They’re always askin’ me

“When’s your book coming out?”

and I tell them

“Next month. I’m working on it.

Next year. You just wait ….”

 

The postman, the neighbor, my bartender

the neighbor’s kid, the barber, my alter ego.

 

I should just come clean

say what I mean – “Never.”

 

Books are overrated.

The minute you finish one

the thing is dead, rotting

and then what?

 

So the notebooks and scratchins

pile up in the back closet

and the word stays alive in me

as I, like any good poet

find better ways to lie.

PDF Version

Comments Off on Overrated | More Poems, Poems

Desire

May 6th, 2017 — 10:06am

I once knew a guy

who was always hungry

even though

his fridge was full.

 

He’d order out while

all the cheese, cold cuts, milk

rotted to hell.

 

It’s like that guy

I heard about on the news

floating for days

on top his windsurfing board

Lake Baikal.

They rescued the poor sod

and evacuated him to the hospital

suffering from severe dehydration.

 

So many of us poor souls

suffer irreparably

from farsightedness.

PDF Version

Comments Off on Desire | More Poems, Poems

Back to top