Category: More 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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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Giving Up

April 10th, 2016 — 10:46am

 

There is a moment in a man’s life

when he realizes deep down in his gut

his groin, his gait

he realizes

he’ll never experience much

that life has to offer.

 

TV, news, radio, magazines, books, atlases, photos

airplanes, buses, the brain, our imagination

can’t take us there or anywhere

near the sum of experience.

 

There’s a time in your life

when sadness soaks all and

awareness becomes a chore given

there’s so much you’ll never have or know

in this big candy story.

And the only recourse once you do feel

once you do know this,

the only action, the only response

is to give up

sit down in your garden, enjoy the day’s sun

’cause you ain’t going anywhere important

in this short time you’ve got.

 

Enjoy your slice and

give up the guilt of not owning

the whole damn chair of stores.

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Why I turned out the way I am

June 2nd, 2015 — 9:02pm

 

It’s for your own good

my father belted.

My mother did the same

at the dinner table with peas.

Mr. Drury in grade 7 had me

write lines of “P”s,

“It’s for your own good.” he opined.

 

Cigarettes are now $10 a pack

and casinos $1,000 plane rides away.

“It’s for your own good,” they say.

 

Seat belts, sanitariums and saints

always a safe, sane, step away.

My wife, my ever always wife

books me monthly to see a doctor

as much a dunce as a doctor can be.

All he offers are pills and pleasantries.

They both say, “It’s for your own good.”

 

Wars, weddings, sprayed green lawns

taxes, papal proclamations and government acts.

“It’s all for your own good,” they declare when asked.

 

My life nearly done and

I have yet to truly taste

what we call – free.

I followed footsteps

and danced to my own good

doing as I was told.

 

Thinking back, I now know

how I came to be who I am

this man, here and now

finally at home in the world

on edge, aware,

of what is really good for me.

 

My flusher finally broke.

 

It’s like one day you wake up

and realize there ain’t no jello tree

or the dictionary was written by a pedophile

and

you head out the door to plant or write your own.

 

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It doesn’t matter

April 23rd, 2015 — 9:03am

 

 

It doesn’t matter if

the air con is broke

the car got scratched

or the wine ain’t chilled.

It doesn’t matter.

 

Don’t matter if

the dog went on the carpet

or the DOW’s up or down.

Don’t matter if

there’s an earthquake in Ecuador

or you won the Super 7.

 

No worries about

missing the 9am meeting

drinking too much

drinking too little

no mayo in the fridge

a bad back, a better world.

It doesn’t matter.

 

It doesn’t matter if

the bus is late or

you arrived too early

or

Sunnis are killing Shias

or

Shias are killing Sunnis

or

Justin Bieber is doing time.

Don’t matter if

you are this or

should be that.

Don’t matter if

the dog got your cat or

carbon emissions are up.

It doesn’t matter.

 

It doesn’t matter

if your mother-in-law

hates your guts

or the plane’s delayed.

Don’t matter if

your bank balance is $0

or the remote is broke.

Doesn’t matter if

you don’t finish this poem

or ever do.

It doesn’t matter.

 

Why?

It doesn’t matter.

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Cheers!

April 23rd, 2015 — 8:45am

 

I am here

this is enough

like the last seed pushes

through the rough.

 

Want, desire, need

abstract things I

no longer bleed

the apple now in my mouth.

 

I am here

piss, shit, breath and spit

I lounge and loaf,

there is no longer any

getting on with it.

 

For other there’s

the buzz of progress, nicer hair.

I lift my glass

I walk not where.

 

I am here

this is enough

like the glistening ant pulls

the large leaf through the rough.

 

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Failing

April 18th, 2015 — 4:55pm

 

This poem

these words

falsetto

wrong

like Frank Sinatra

breaking into song

half way up

the Amazon.

 

Nothing never seems right

like the i

trying to see itself

or beauty gone

just a little

left of right.

 

We are animals in costumes

made of human skin,

pour another drink

barman

this poem sucks

I have to begin again …..

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Fictional Delirium

April 5th, 2015 — 9:30am

 

Tin man is pounding

Pippy Longstockings

in the back room.

 

Cat woman’s got

Bart’s tongue.

Inspector Gadget

his zipper undone.

 

The Hulk is in the backroom

doing yoga.

Batman’s thrown off his cape

and wearin’ a toga.

 

Ironman is taking an oil bath

King Kong is watching

The Wrath Of Khan.

Speedy Gonzales he’s long gone.

 

Coyote finally caught his bird.

Next up, Tweety Bird, I heard.

 

The Cookie Monster is getting

ten teeth pulled.

Zorro’s wedding plans are on hold.

Spiderman’s been sold

to a future arachnoid.

 

Indiana Jones I’m told

is in town to discuss the next script

insisting it must contain a larger crypt.

 

Denis is menacing.

Donald’s ducking.

Bozo clowning around.

 

The Littlest Hobo fell

and is hobbling back to his owner

in Hollywood.

The Family Guy’s got a boner

for the girl in

that other show.

 

Zeus is on the loose

and won’t take no for an answer.

I just saw some deers fly by.

Onward Dasher, onward prancer!

 

McGyver’s driving a loaner

and Wonder Woman is wondering

if its worth it

all the animation it takes as

delirious Betty Crocker rebakes …..

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