Poems

Nothing

I have no name, no life, no world,

And now I've thrown off Keats.

I gave up my religion,

That farcical charade.

My country is a tyrant

That murders blacks and gays,

And keeps the immigrant beyond its shores.

Now I'm writing poems

That matter to my soul,

Not paradox of feeling.

I think I always did.

Nonetheless I'll die like all the rest,

In a world that's made a joke

Of poetry and music,

Listens to it like an affectation,

Politely claps,

And smokes a cigarette.

7-22-13

 

He could do things

He could do things with his mind -

Things that make me crazy -

Change his feelings, modify

His personality.

I am stone. I cannot change.

67 years.

I still can't hate the man who drove me crazy.

Night is dark. And sleep is almost

Totally passe.

Writing poems. Making jokes.

A victim of the night.

The others sit in camaraderie.

7-22-13

Wagner

The king loved Wagner.

Wagner had no talent.

Wagner didn't love him,

But the king had lots of money.

So Wagner worked the king the way

A miner digs for ore.

The sycophantic king gave all he

Had to Richard Wagner,

While Wagner screwed the daughters of his friends.

7-22-13

 

Stymied

What do I expect my poesy

To be? What do I want my verse to be?

I don't know what I'll write until it's written,

And nothing when it's written makes me happy.

Earlier the verses that I wrote -

Equal to but different from Keats -

Please me very much. And there it stops.

Like a cliff. And I have not stopped falling.

Will I land in water or a grave?

7-21-13

 

CSUF

I left with a diploma

Which is all I meant to do.

It wasn't quite as bad as being crazy.

I didn't like the classes,

And I didn't like the teachers,

And I hated the graffiti on the walls.

“Ragheads, we don't want you.”

“Ragheads, catch a boat.”

These “ragheads” could think circles

Around you!

7-21-13

 

God

There might have been a god when earth began

That loved the little live things, such as Man,

That very gently helped them on their way,

Every night, beginning every day.

Where is this god so silent? What has stilled him?

A tsunami in Louisiana killed him.

7-21-13

 

A Prayer

If there's a god that gives a damn for me,

I do not ask for immortality,

Although I'd like it, nor undying love,

Which would be nice, nor for a lot of money,

Which I would not refuse. What I request

Is merely to adore my poesy.

When others who can hardly make a sentence

Believe they are the next in line to Keats.

7-21-13