EXISTENTIAL DILEMMA

d'Verse Poets Pub

How many people
would you have killed
by now
if you could just wish
somebody dead
and the deed would be done?


no consequences
and completely anonymous


No
you say
no one should have that kind of
GODLIKE 
 power over another
but you see
it's almost as easy
right now
it's almost as easy
just a flick of the finger
is all that it is
just a flick of the finger...


bang bang
you're dead

freedom  

responsibility

Truman thought that the lesser
of two evils
was to slaughter the innocents
to make the combatants sit up
and take notice
but the end is never justified
by such a means
it just means
that it's the end
but it will come around
again
it always does


and there you are again
my friend


freedom


responsibility


if  he ever slept
easy
for just one night
after that fateful decision
then he was a madman
just like the rest
but you see it's okay
because he was
our
madman
and sometimes when God
doesn't act
we have to


and right now
it's almost
as easy
you see
it's almost as easy
for anyone
to make that call





.

SAVED

With Real Toads--d'Verse Poets Pub




There is no way
you can talk to someone
who knows that they are "right"
and you are wrong
that they have cornered the market on truth
and that is the be all and end all of it
no more questions
mystery solved and
case closed
no matter how much reason
common sense
or logic you may use
you might as well
be talking up your dog's butt
for they will shake their heads
and smile
and pretend to listen
but all the while
their little brain is screaming
APOSTATE
and though you might feel that you
could accept them
in your live and let live way
it won't be returned
they won't consort with your kind
until you've drunk the Kool-Aid


narrow minds keep narrow circles


and my answer to the question
of have I been saved is
well, not from you,
so I guess the answer is no
anyhow
don't want any part of your
vindictive deity
cuz I've already met the one
who goes by the handle of  LOVE
(though, as I recall,  his given name is Fred)
and I wonder why it's never occurred
to you
that if one were exposed to such hellacious temperatures
for all eternity
that he would eventually acclimate to it
and it would just be like summertime in Phoenix...
no big deal


but no matter cuz
we need to see that glassy-eyed look
or...well...
Y'ALL CAN JEST GO TO HELL--
.hack...snort...giggle...

Footnote: 
To finish this poem I must click on
"save"
I have done that and now it says
SAVED


HALLELUJAH !
and I'll be damned--


uh...I mean...
guess I won't be now


bye

GOOD SHOTS

With Real Toads--d'Verse Poets Pub

Photo from Timoteo's personal archives

I.

Welcome to the Discovery Channel !
Did you know that flies can fly
while they're copulating?
Looks something like the space shuttle
riding piggy back on that 747 in miniature.


Wait...wait a minute...
there's a medical opinion coming in
on my email.
It says I haven't been getting enough 
oxygen to my brain and
that is what's responsible for
some of the poetry I've been writing
lately...


Now, back to our story.


Wait...here's another opinion coming in
from an old flame...
It says: To whom it may concern--
this man is like a movie I watched recently...
sort of slow moving and boring in the beginning,
but starts to grow on you after a while,
as more depth and nuance are revealed.

II.

The air conditioner in my old beater
is deceased. 
A mere thousand bucks
or a bit more
will resurrect it 
I'm assured. 
And what's wrong with you--
they say 
this is the desert, man,
but I think of all the beer
a thousand bucks can buy
and decide I can sweat it out
these few more miles
to the liquor store.


Short-term objective: Do more drinking.
Long-term objective: Do more drinking


And tell me how can one be held
responsible for a life largely unpremeditated?
The most they can make stick is
second-degree cluelessness--

but go ahead and  crucify me if you will.

III.

And about that other thing
you say 
I should observe the rules
on this ship of fools,
but you know I'd rather go down swinging
(with the swingers)
than waste away from a thousand cuts. 
Got too much pride
to end up just another stumbling
fumbling old fart
ambling across the street and
making them all seethe when their light
has already turned green--
trying to get a head start
on their way to nowhere.
Zombie see and zombie do.
A wrong turn in Mexico-- 
a cloaked figure darts from the shadows
and it's all over anyway Baby Blue.


Doesn't matter the distance traveled--
it's how many good shots you've taken.
In the end what prevails...
but a collection of  memories?

ANYONE?

With Real Toads--d'Verse Poets Pub

Will anyone be there
by your side
when your chickens come home
to roost
when the shit's run its course
through the goose
and he's too crapped out
to squawk the name
of some supplemental insurance company


You think you've got her locked in
you think you've got him locked in
and you think sure--they'll be there
but there's a lot more piss
gonna run under the bridge
before you've crossed it for the final time


So I will ask again
will anyone be there
by your side
when the front desk has just rung 
to say it's check-out time


Such a lugubrious thought
that you may just have
to go it alone
one more time
burned all your bridges
most in the heat of the moment
yes, you  could say them  kids
are "estranged"
but it's all about pride
and holding that grudge
and not giving in 
cuz that's who you are
and they followed your lead, 
now didn't they?


More important to be right..


GODDAMN RIGHT!


So what that you couldn't
trust anybody in the end
and just when you look
for a friend
everyone's indisposed


I suppose 
that's the way it goes
and you quit attending funerals
with the pissing and moaning
and gnashing of teeth
cuz instinctively you knew 
no one's gonna do that for you


And now here comes your parade
with its motley little band
but sure would be nice
to have someone to hold onto
who isn't a hired hand

HE

With Real Toads--d'Verse Poets Pub




He tried to 
show them
that they were dreaming
and that if they could 
awaken
within the dream
and recognize it 
for what it was
that they could manipulate


it, and do all kinds of 
cool stuff
like  turn water into wine
(party time!)


still 
nearly everyone
continues to snooze
(without the free booze)
still perceiving 
the dream to be reality
subjected to the most capricious 
twists and turns 
of the Subconscious Imagination
including nightmares
that seem to be
so terribly real

LANA

With Real Toads--d'Verse Poets Pub


she showed up on my doorstep
one day with two suitcases--
looking like a lost waif.


my best compadre Dan knew her
and had sent her down from the states
because he thought--for some odd reason-- that I
could arrange an abortion for her
as it was still illegal.
i had lots of contacts,
but not in that arena
and i told her so.
she wasn't showing yet,
so we decided to make the best
of her time there anyway.


we had come from the beach
and were meandering along the Condado
when a local cop on a motorcycle
pulled up beside and told us we couldn't
be on the street looking like that.


she was wearing just her bikini
but it was tame by today's standards
and i had seen plenty of  tourists
navigating these streets in similar attire.


then I realized he wasn't referring to
the bikini, but the way she filled out the bikini
(it was June, and she was busting out all over.)
he even mentioned that drivers
could get into accidents
from gawking at her (swear to God).


i took off the shirt I wore over my trunks
and  gave it to her to put on and the
civic-minded embodiment of the law
allowed as how that would be acceptable
and we walked on back to my place.


we made it that night
haphazardly
and half-assedly
with her saying in the middle of it
"ya gotta understand
 this doesn't mean much to me
becuz i still love Clyde."
(right--just not enough to bear his spawn.)


in the early morning
Nan came by,
cooing at me through the slats
of my bedroom window.
then suddenly shouting you bastard
(waking up the pious Puerto Rican family next door
who had given me dirty looks before)
and stomping off
when Lana raised her strawberry-blonde mane.


that cost me dearly.


but what's a young buck
trying to live in the moment to do?


years hence, Dan informed me that Lana
had done a photo spread for a notorious
skin magazine.
not once, but twice..


i thought about trying to locate some back issues
to see if i could find her
and then i said
why bother.


been there.
done that.

FORGIVE ME

Poetry Potluck-With Real Toads--d'Verse Poets Pub

It is said
that in all
the dimensions
that we
here
cling to one
of the lowest
rungs
with our constant
craving
and our ceaseless
desire
and yet
we pour the wine
the music plays
I gaze
into your eyes...


Forgive me
for loving this life
it is all
I've known
or can remember

DANCER

with real toads--d'Verse Poets Pub


She was the pride of the neighborhood,

sitting pretty on daddy's knee--

now she wonders how she got from there to here

when the world looked the same each day,

the changes like time-lapse photography.

But she's got a date with Jimmy tonight,

and everything's gonna be alright.

Bobby sox queen,

young boy's dream,

twistin' the night away

under the shadow of the red menace,

till queen of Camelot

sees it all blow up in her face...

the illusion that we are growing

toward something other than death quickly dispelled.

Doin' the frug and the monkey and the funky

chicken, while sacrificial lambs are led to slaughter...

the domino theory collapsing under its own weight

as overgrown boys play games with real men's lives.

But she's got a date with Jimmy tonight

and everything's gonna be alright.

Dirty dancing, disco inferno,

and win one for the Gipper--

slashing social programs like Jack The Ripper,

in the land of the free and the home of the Atlanta Braves.

Now, some of the men still stare,

but when she looks in the mirror

it's getting harder to save face...

it all went by in the blink of an eye,

from cold war to hot flashes.

But she's got a date...

Rumbling through the desert night,

Jimmy riding shotgun in the Pathfinder--

she stops along the back road,

and when she is ready, wraps her lips

around his shaft... and swallows.

"Jim Beam you're a HELL of a lover," she gasps,

then caps the bottle and sets him back onto the seat--

turns up the radio and begins to dance in the moonlight.

And somewhere in the night

the KILLER still wails GREAT BALLS OF FIRE!

and dreams of the budding nipples

of his child bride

as he slugs down a six pack of Ensure,

defiant till the bitter end.

She sways to the music and

the world goes rushing by as it always does--

but she is happy now...

thinking only of how this unbearable lightness of being

can be reconciled with a heavy heart.

THE LADY RESIGNS HER LONGTIME POSITION

Shut up
and go to hell
you arrogant little fart
the love between us
has long ceased
swept clean of any hope
a dark thing
hardly visible
its face a black skull


The fetid corpse of you
still rots inside my trench
an old historic battlefield
in need of a plaque


A backyard barbecue
in need of some lighter fluid
and a match


Should a thousand more weenies
sizzle in this pit
none will ever be
as shriveled as yours

CHIP ART...It's In The Bag! (Part 2)

d'Verse Poets Pub


Here we go again, kiddies...an all new grouping of  incredible images from potato chip land!  Would you believe GEORGE WASHINGTON???  Scroll down and reel back in shock and awe! 
(If you missed part one, scroll down a little further.)