TIME TO FLY

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The matter about this matter

is that we created it

mind create matter

mind over matter

and boys and girls

we've lost our fukking minds 

don'cha feel it too?

go the lyrics to the song...

don'cha feel it too?

Well, what's to do?

Burying myself in the immediacy

of the moment

I ignore all else that lurks

outside my sandcastle walls

Ah...I get the feeling

the universe is telling me

it will soon be time to go

(emulating the birds in 

"Who Knows Where The Time Goes")

and it's saying; See, there ain't that much left

for you to miss out on anymore. 

The world is one by one 

closing up shop on the things you love.

Ah, ya know what I mean

just look around 

Pollyanna has left the building

And if you think it's going to get better

all on its own

and magically right itself again 

after this little cosmic glitch--

I'm here to splash some cold water

on that stupidly grinning mug

We're going to have to think our way

out of this one

a crisis of the spirit

We're going to have to call upon

science and religion

our best minds

on the job

(and beyond that...

we should ask ourselves is HE 

the sick comedian

we've always suspected?)

There's no other way

because 

it poured into my heart

there's love

and there's fear

that's it 

the two dynamics of the universe 

And so we're going to have to think

our way out of this one

We're going to have to scratch

and claw our way out of this one

We're going to have to

kick and spit and cuss

We're going to have to go down 

swinging on this one

 

We're going to have to love ourselves

out of this one

CAN OF CAT FOOD AND A TOMATO

It's late at night. 

A woman stops into 

the grocery--deserted 

save for her and the cashier--

and plops down a can

of cat food and a tomato.

The cashier says 

is that all there is--

and as the woman

bundles against the night

on the way back

to her car, that line

from the Peggy Lee song

starts playing in her head.

And in a way she's glad

that it's been reduced to this.

With The Sonofabitch long gone,

and all the kids grown and 

moved on as well,

it's just the pain

(but it's a good one)

of sharp claws digging

into your skin

at 5 o'clock in the morning--

a wakeup call more reliable

that Sonny and Cher

wailing "I Got You Babe."

And that's a hurt that,

unlike most of the others 

that came and went

over the long and the short of it, 

doesn't leave any hidden scars. 

 

BLUE SUEDE

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The polished night
obsidian
shelters you in its cocoon
your perfect spot to stay put
and ruminate
until the dawn

You cannot remember
what is holding
America together--
some long lost ideal
of ultimate rightness
and robust potential 
perhaps
as seen (or constructed)
in Whitman's mind's eye

The young greeter wearing
the mask at the market
says you always wear 
the coolest shoes when
you come in...

You look down... 
Oh, those are my 
Blue Suede Shoes!

You are startled 
that a pleasant someone
barely on your radar before 
has taken note of you
when most who once bore
the heavy burden of 
significant other
surely haven't given you 
a thought in decades

 A reason to hold on
at least one more day
you say

Just to see what will happen
to America
caught up in an Agatha Christie
whodunit 
where you think you know
who's the bad guy
but do you really...
in a world where all the players
are complicit in the murder?

AND IT WAS GOOD

Greedy capitalists assault the senses

Every minute of the day

It’s the American way

I only ever tried

To sell myself

Often failing miserably

(but stuck with it)

Things that chap your ass

Are easily remedied 

If you’ll just get off of it

And take care of business

Now that would make

A good advertising slogan

(with a patriotic ring)

To help boost the economy

O America

Is there any hope for you now?

Whitman saw it all folding out

Into a glorious panorama

Scaling mountains

Pulling myself cautiously up 

And it was good.

Hold onto that romantic vision
America

Like the buffalo you decimated

It may yet make a comeback one day

When neighbor stops hating neighbor

And brother stops killing brother

Oh hey

Listen to me

You can still hear that

Wide-eyed idealist

Boarding the bus to the airport

To board the plane

And wing his way over the ocean

To a brand new life

And all because he took a chance

And got off his ass 

And followed his dream

GET REAL

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All of a sudden

the sports talk guy

on the radio

has become a champion

of sensitivity

to women's issues

as if he never spent

a night out boozin' and laughin' 

it up with the boys--

as if he never sat

in a locker room

and traded those jokes before

UMBRAL SKY

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The lonesome moon roams the streets
searching for mad love
in all its myriad forms--
it's image reflected in the gutter splash
that peppers my trousers
as a fancy horse-drawn carriage blows by.

A calypso drumbeat seeps
from some nearby edifice.
The crickets sing along.

I duck behind a shop
to drain the snake.

Memories of sinning in the alley
thrust
bang
bite
come flooding back.

I'm so uncouth
I laugh
slurring my words
it's only life
I'll just go back again
and take it on the chin.

Drifting along
weaving this way and that
muttering curses
into the dying night.

I am the master of my fate
but where are my subjects?

The moon climbs rapidly
in its umbral sky.

A poem swirls round
in my head
edgy and cryptic
teetering right on the brink
of beginning to stink.

I've walked right up to the abyss
and peered over.
Backed away
to fight another day.

Yes
I believe in mad love
in all its myriad forms
one's only leverage
in a broken world.

The cock crows.
A new day begins.

The will to survive 
is all we have.

STATUS REPORT

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Tucked away 
in my tower

safely hidden
from the past

keepin' busy
as always

I have my books
and my poetry
to protect me...

I'm only sad 
when I hear 
those songs again

THE STRAIGHT POOP

I enjoy going back through some of my older poems and finding ones that seem to fit the present situation, perhaps better than when they were originally published. This is one such poem.


If you got outta bed
this morning
you're an optimist
plain and simple
otherwise why would you?

I mean really
you're getting ready
to do your thing
goin' to work
goin' to play
goin' to get drunk 
and the sun is shining
and the birds are tweeting
( many of them have Twitter accounts)
and you just don't think about
how it can all turn to
shit
without a moment's notice
like the snap of your fingers

We live in denial
about the true nature of life
and the turning to shit factor
we just get up every day
and figure that everything
is gonna be fine
but then circumstances
beyond your control
and that's really the key
beyond your control
kick in 
and you stand there
shell-shocked
reassessing everything 
you poor pathetic 
a-hole

What did I do wrong?

Well it was nothing
try to understand that it was
nothing
it's just your turn
in the barrel
and everybody gets his turn
cuz we're all here to learn

And that's really when 
it hits you
that you gotta be brave
that you gotta find meaning
when all the evidence points to
a universe as cold
as a witch's left (or is it right?) tit  

And so you wrack your brain 
with the question...

What da fuk 
what da fuk
what da fuk
should I do?

Don't worry Bunky...
you'll 
think 
of 
something

Being brave enough to climb
out of bed is the first step

HEY NINETEEN

You're plastering those numbers
up on the screen again--
every night it's the same goddamn
thing, over and over--
be afraid...be very afraid....

You think you've seized upon 
the only thing that matters
or should matter
at this moment in time
because it's about
survival. And yet man 
does not live by survival alone. 
Cave man, maybe.
But not modern 
technologically advanced
and culturally refined man.

We've gone so far past 
the instinct to merely survive.
We've built a world out of 
inspired visions of what's possible
and learned that it's anything
and everything we can imagine!

And I can assure you 
that on a personal
level it's about quality.
Not quantity.

It's not good enough
to merely survive anymore.
And all your white--knuckled
fear mongering-- 
your constant 
sound the alarm
sound the alarm
like somebody's car being broken
into down in the alley
late at night...

Shut that goddamn thing off already!

We get it.

Because I can assure you
that on a personal level--
and I  know I speak not
only for myself--there have 
to be millions of a like mind
thinking this very same thing
right now...
that if this is the way
it's going to be
from this day forward...
if this is the world we're bequeathing
to our children
and grandchildren
then who needs it?

Who fucking needs it? 
Really.


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ABLUTION

Hidden gaze
melting
into steam-frosted mirror.
With a finger I sketch
the face
that I will wear today.
Tomorrow I'll begin again
with a clean slate.