The stream (all workshops)
My Problem With Online Poetry
when, or if, anyone actually reads this
know the reason i reach out is plain and simple-
attention
this isn’t the problem though.
i thirst for critics praise
or scrutiny evenly-
a bratty child screaming in public
feeling victory in the face of
the mad mommy-
not because i wish to be canonized
or shot down,
but simply to feel i have reached
another person,
even if it’s someone i’ll never know
Well just kiss my big fat ass
my gauge don't work, I'm out of gas!
Tried calling everyone on cell
all the calls went to voice mail
One last chance, called an old friend
if he don't answer it's the end
But what's this? A human voice!
might know it would be my last choice
The friend is old but really good
message is clear, it's understood
so I'll sit here like a dumb ass
awaiting him and extra gas
*written while sitting on side of road out of gas
PUSHING ONE STEP MORE
Now I must rest my weary head
For if I push myself much more
come morning they will find me dead
my brain fevers , i grow cold
I need to lay my body down
or I will soon be 6 feet
in the ground.
my bones ache , my muscles lock.
my brain fevers . I grow cold.
the sickness strikes deep
into my soul.
Her weak eyes could hardly see
I had to show her where to sign
if it hadn't been for me
it would have been blank...that dotted line
She doesn't need a vacuum
with a power-cord and more
to clean the threadbare carpet
covering her floor
It picks up all the cat-hair
with this attachment, don't you see
Of course, it will cost extra...
just a little fee
As I leave her cold apartment
I'm having no regret
I've sold more than all the others
and I've won our little bet
i.
I will have none of it,
no, not even that,
I won't enter your private hell,
not even to save you
from dreams that came
to this.
There is a serpent lying in the grass
and he eats the light of day,
there are stars that sing,
hanging in the balance
breaking through the skull
of loneliness.
ii.
i am dis-assembling my life,
it makes perfect sense.
for ten years i’ve known it’s time to die
and so,
each day
i remove a little contact,
one less phone call,
no invitations,
more brusque replies,
even more brutality and abuse,
to those I love,
to let go.
then i will have to sort
all the stuff for the dump,
all the stuff for charity
all the books to be chosen from
by my friends,
which will be my wake.
Time has kissed me,
rich in life unlooked-for,
cut free from pains
of strangled futures
I would have never had
until we met.
Time has bound me,
ties of intimacy,
sex and lust,
bonds of passion and desire,
chains of care
and aching wonder
on sleepless nights
spent asking why
of all endless choice
you could have made,
I was your's.
I'm tired of the battering
You find flattering
My soul is torn
Wanting to be yours
No amount of hoping, or
Spilling my heart
Changes your motives, for
Taking me apart
So, I stand my ground
To sit around
While you walk away
This thanksgiving holiday
The cruise, I enjoyed
We should've bonded
But, you believe
In a dominate lead
I tried being submissive
Catering to your ego
You are so harsh, indecisive
Taking me down a cruel road
Lover of tubes
He sat cross legged his long fingers
drawing conclusions from paper and ink,
meandering in thoughts well written by
people he will never meet. She on the other
hand knew of these people but would never
say, all she would be in his eyes was sweet.
Let's walk beneath a fall rainbow
which trembles in the autumn wind
before the bright leaves drop and go
signaling the season's end
Or we could drive past farmers' fields
of newly golden beans and corn
'ere combines gather up the yields
leaving the bare ground forlorn
Perhaps sit by a windy lake
and watch the waves roll to the shore
where cattails and bare willows quake
and pine trees whisper "nevermore"
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