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Wednesday, December 16, 2009


The wine pours into my glass
A close friend to lean on
A deadly enemy and thief
Allowing a freer life and an earlier death
Life burning feverishly

Drinking to remember or to forget
To meet or to distance
Be included or excluded
To forget a bitterness in life
To live a bitterness better forgotten

We all have our reasons
Just pour me another

already gone

Numbed legs protest as the body rises
The back cracks and spasms
Hobbling to get the blood flowing
Brings pain from back to knees

Wind whips from everywhere
Smacks cold rain to the body
Chilling deep, begins the shivers
Reminding what freedom brings

Pains would be magnified without
That which brings the pains
Serving sentences for earning a living
A life sentence, no parole

There are others eager to get in
Lined up, no sentences of their own
Stuck in the chilled freedom
Seeking a way to get in

Hobbling inside the customers’
Place of business, all smiles
Eager to serve, idle chitchat
They’re not better off

All to earn a paycheck already gone
Eager to get home to the wine
While both can be had
Such is life


Indoors people shelter
And hole up for a winters’ night
Outside lies the cold
Affecting some more than others

The chill nags my side
Even under warm covers
As the wine worked its’ way
No longer an effect

I feel warmth to my right
Roll over and move in it’s direction
Putting my arm around her
My crotch against her ass

Her hot body radiates
Like the sun itself
Seeming to almost burn me
The one source

Awake and troubled
Remembering when I had no warmth
No roof, no food, nothing
Nothing but eagerness

Those less fortunate cross my mind
As if I were destined to return
To lose all but memories
Having failed at so much

Successes brought nothing
Ultimately all that was tried
Shouldn’t have been
On the edge again

But for tonight
There is refuge from the cold
Lying there no longer drunk
Soaking in the warmth of another


Ten percent unemployment they say
Then report on a man who was making $75 an hour
Now makes $46.
Tough times indeed.

People lived beyond their means
Bought a house
Paid medical insurance
Owned a car
Built on their headstart

Others slept on buses
Worked day labor
Never saw a doctor
So walmart could sell cheap
And stock prices could soar

I guess everyone
had their role in creating this depression

Saturday, December 12, 2009

What Purpose?

“Todays’ men have been feminized”
The bearded old man says,
Stating as if it were fact
Posture insecure, eyes crazy and worried
“the bible says…............”
His words meld together into mumble
My god, he means it as advice!
He does not do well as a parrot
What purpose does such a creature serve?

Ten Years and Part Time

Through the years he barely missed a day
Always on time, never a misstep
Good solid employee
Knows his stuff
Well liked, friendly, and productive

Now, after ten years of service
He stands there half dazed
Economy sucks, company downsized
He is part time, paycheck cut, lost all benefits
What will he do? Will he make it?

After all these years, he has nothing
Forced to look at the waste,
the ticking clock of age
the worsening doom of tomorrow
At least he has a job.
Many don’t

Soon Enough

Music from decades ago
Plays through orderly rooms
Makes its’ way out of the house
and fades into the darkness
of the stifled neighborhood

Two people dance in embrace
Broad smiles bringing dull aches
They move together
Knowing all the moves
It’s been so long

Touches of affection, tenderness
Shared memories and connections
Old electricities and passions
that knew no bounds
They had known no better

If only for a while to
forget the last few years
going in opposite directions
Relive when all was wonderful
Just one last time

Soon enough will come
the time to say goodbye
The two will exit the house
And to each other fade
Like music into the darkness

Friday, December 11, 2009

Attempting Poetry Again (oy!)

Heavy silent gray
still, lifeless
thick with rot

Dishevel surrounds
emptied bottled
dirty glasses
food left out to spoil

Remindful of hours before
life overflowed
laughter addictive
joys of brain chemistry
temporary treasure

Bodies lie silent
struggling to overcome
severely induced slumber
self inflicted
Sore mouths and muscles
Intimate strangers

One eye opens
pain flows to the temples
then to the lungs
Upset stomach
deep thirst
Slow rise
quiet hobble

Staring at red eyes
Drained face
Half dead body
Numb of pain
from decades of
earning but not getting

A silent stumble
Milk from the fridge
right out of the carton
immediately absorbing
Preserving the dead silence

Realization of nudity
Thoughts and feelings return
Combining normalcy
and absurdity

Regrets run long
Last night was not one
Needs were filled

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Fave Quote

"To argue with a person who has renounced the use of reason is like administering medicine to the dead."
Thomas Paine

I add; There just aren't many people living in this country.


It’s all disposition, they’ve never done better
Their investments soar. They sit pretty.
They’re smart, worked smarter than the rest
Who labor away, getting no where
Their money mates and makes more
Works for them, being fruitfull and multiplying
The blessed, rewarded, smiled upon
Never mind that their investments are increasing
Because of lowered wages and joblessness
The suffering of millions
Never mind the unfair advantages of mommy and daddy’s checks
Never mind the debts and deaths
Cream rises to the top
The rest of us are just stupid and lazy
The blessed, who God loves more
Get their profits easy and say they deserve it
Hard work is worthless
Never mind that it’s hard work that creates wealth
Never mind it is paychecks that drive the economy
Never mind the long illegal days
The blessed reign supreme
Tax breaks, subsidies, priviledge
The easy life of perk and spoil
From parents checks and head starts
They are superior. They’ll tell you how great they are
How God loves them better
Their sins don’t count
They’re smart and deserve it all
Including your respect
Their investments say so
Even with high unemployment, it’s about disposition
Not fact, not joblessness, not poverty
It’s all in our heads and facts mean nothing
Facts are lies after all
Only they know the truth
No one ever suffers
It’s just disposition and attitude
Just pretend it’s ok and it is.

I don’t argue. There is no chance.
No way to break through the delusions
That candy their brains
Maybe democracy is a bad idea after all.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

just fine

A couple sits dressed unnaturally well
it’s her birthday they’re engaged
there’s a disappointment in her
hidden behind her laughs
he is totally hurt by life.

Another couple is making their rounds
he is stoned out of his mind
she mingles and laughs, the fake variety
trying to get the most out of this
before going back to real

Two women sit close holding each other
the larger has her hand up the skirt of the smaller
getting her off in front of all
while her husband stands there
with a blank stare and a beer

The scene is the same as always
everyone looking for a someone
anyone actually
just not an empty bed

No one ever finds anyone
not even one that will do
I am just fine with an empty bed
time to leave

Two Letters

the cell phone
no one could figure out
dusty, finger smudges
used much
“pick up bread, milk”
“remember to take out the trash”
“we visit your mom Sunday”
“is the registration expired”
mundane, life draining
is it even communication?
now it sits stubborn
displays just two letters
they scramble to figure out why
programming indeed
it is what should be
rebelling from
the deadly mundane
had enough
says it so well

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Let's Have Coffee

Sometimes I drink coffee or tea
Needing something warm
Chases the chill of being alone
Alone with others surrounding
They know me not
Tied up in their own versions of what I am
To serve their purposes
Mattering none, I’m just there
It doesn’t matter
They are what they are.

I’m alone. Cold
Coffee is my mistress
My secret comfort
Holding me tight inside
Her body gives me warmth
That no one else can
Her bitterness is delicious
Bites me so right
Gives me her all
Makes me feel human for a while
I can brew more
Let’s have coffee


The last time I was in this bar
everything I owned was in a backpack on the floor.
There were fights, loud music, cheap beer.
everyone was gritty and real.
The place seemed like a dump. Dirty, grimy, and smelly.
People smoked in the beer garden. A contact buzz.
I was grateful.
Women wrestling in Jello had made me fall in love with this city.
I drank until I could ride the bus all night on a pass
had to sleep somewhere.
I Didn’t want anyone to see me.
Didn’t want anyone to know me.

But it was my adventure.
To say that I made it, having been that low.
Prove to myself that I can do such things. Be the American Dream.
Pull myself up by the bootstraps, make something of myself.
I was so stupid then, but it was what I had, stupidity
What a bunch of shit that is, but I did it. Sort of.
Took years of sacrifice and suffering, hard work

But here I am, walking into that same bar again, alone.
Many of the same people are there, not much has changed
I meet everyone again as though they’d remember me
Looking back turns out to be more bitter than sweet
But sweet is something that sells me short
shuts me out of the good in life
Bitter is something better, more attractive, savory
Boredom in life is a waste and a tragedy.
Better to suffer and struggle, to live

I stand there drinking, enjoying the delicious raw music
There is another fight outside. Does not involve me. Not much does.
Guys are heartbroken that women don’t don’t like them
They miss the point entirely. It’s to their advantage.
No one notices my existence.

I hate the words last call. Can there be a bigger kill joy?
My eyes burn, my heart yells that after all these years
I still have nothing my heart would like
My guts react to the realization
I have to go home to that empty apartment
Going to be a long walk home. Being home punishes my soul.
At least all the beer I drank will help me fall asleep
Make the next day half conscious
I chug the last of my beer, choke back the shittiness
Things were a lot worse the last time.
Now they’re better, except where it seems to count most

I drag myself down the street
Tell my heart better none than bad.
Better this way, safer.
The street swallows me into nothingness.
Like I was never even there.
It’s as if the world cannot wait to erase evidence of my existence.
And not just on those streets or in that bar.
I am grateful.


I saw her trying to hug him, wanting more
They stood on the street in full view
He towered over her, tall, fit
She was shorter, thicker
Very long hair, good for pulling
She held him tightly, eager
His hands pat her back, not hugging
Doesn’t want seen holding her
He could have anything, everything
In every way imaginable
He worries about image
Image over experience
Over living

Not Mine

An emptied apartment
It wasn’t to be like this
It was all it could be
Marriage was over
Another fresh start. Alone.
Take a walk, so bored
The sun burned my skin
A lone bar amid sprawl
The few there are hardened drunks
All they have is in emptied bottles
I sit there drinking, wasting
Watching my money
No one I want to know
Bottle emptied. One more won’t hurt
A man approaches too drunk to say much
Wishing someone were able to feel what he does
From his emptied bottles
I’m not there. Not going to be
I drink my beer faster
Wanting to get away
Money in the juke box
Timed right
I walk out the door
“Welcome to paradise” plays
It is paradise, just not mine