Friday, January 6, 2012


it's so strange to be a 


to suddenly zzzzzzip back 
from the nightly sojourn 
to awaken and 
allow it to dawn 
that you're back to feeding this drama
the trauma
of CHOOSE at every turn
no way to win with those kinds of odds
so go ahead and make 
mistake number three
cuz you're really just here to
accumulate karma
now what kind of dharma is that?

Goin' apeshit  batshit  ratshit  

at the prospect of writing the next line
knowing it signifies nothing
but still gives you something 
to read 
as you sip your Corona 
on the beach at Pomona

that tenuous hold
on all of your gold 
to stand there and stare
pretending to care
playing the game
just for shits and grins
knowing nobody wins

banking on Nietzsche being full of it
with his eternal recurrence
(like all philosophers, he was in his head way too much)
yet considering the possibility
if all of the highs
(of which there were many)
would be worth all the lows
(of which there were plenty)
to come back, Jack
and do it again
making your grand re-entrance 
but if you really gonna heed that guy
then you know ya gotta try 
to make every day
the best it can be, though

kinda hard when you're walking through the woods
in the dead of winter
and having to whiz 
and discovering that you've put
your long johns on backwards
with an opening in the front
but none in the rear
which is now reversed...


It's so strange to be a person
fresh from the slide
off a magic carpet ride
feeling trapped here inside 
once again

now you've been zipped
your wings have been clipped
you soul has been stripped
to fit inside this box

so strange to be a person
this creature
this thing
fiddling with your ding-a-ling
hoping it will bring
some solace from it all

and it's so strange to be a 
when you've seen beyond the pale
when you've poked through the crack
in the cosmic egg
grasping at last
that it's no longer a matter of 
when will you leave
but of how much longer 
will you keep coming back


  1. can i get me cosmic egg with a side of crispy bacon? and backwards long johns suck....smiles.

  2. Detecting "just a touch" of depression ... Nonetheless, very well written indeed ... Be well, my friend. Love, cat.

  3. BRIAN: Sorry, the cosmic egg only comes with items that are pickled or toasted.

    CAT: Not depression, just the occasional reality check. Thanks for your concern. (smiles!)

  4. Another killer poem that just slays me. I especially love the long underwear on backwards.......yup. That pretty much sums up our experience here, hee hee! Love your view thru the crack in the cosmic egg, Timoteo!

  5. SHERRY: Thanks so much! You need to find yourself in that position with the long johns to fully appreciate it!

  6. This was great...and it gave me a few chuckles.

  7. awesome, as always, biting and true.

  8. tickling image, smart words matching it,
    well done.

  9. Really? I am not sure, I have never been accused of having that problem. ;) Totally cool as bat shit poem!

  10. Somebody get this man a microphone! I SO want to hear this spoken! Fantastic, fiercely paced write that was an absolute blast to read.
    Thank you, thank you, thank you! (and a fistpump to boot!)

  11. Haven't made the rounds of your sites this week...I'm somewhat out of action, with my computer getting overhauled, and I'm hanging out here at the library trying to catch up on a myriad of things...will give some proper replies to you cats by this weekend !

    However, Natasha, I so appreciate that...

  12. love this stanza especially:
    now you've been zipped
    your wings have been clipped
    you soul has been stripped
    to fit inside this box...

    sounds like societal expectations to me. and the stanza following that one is a hoot. Hope you are well, Timoteo!

  13. just had a second read to check something that hit me after I left my first comment - did you just write you some rap lyrics??? picking up on a hip-hop rhythm in this ;)