Poems

George & Jill

He's my love and you're my friend,

But I was born to be alone.

What a maudlin thing to say!

But like a fish in water,

By myself I swim.

With people, I just hold my breath

And flop upon the sand.

I read somewhere and many times

There's solitude in genius.

One soul only, maybe two,

Neither of them me,

Thinks that I have talent.

I crossed Death Valley since my youth.

Verse was my oasis.

No. It was my water.

Music was the shade.

16 years out of water,

Again I am alone.

9-17-13

 

Mental Health

I never met such heartless people,

Rotten and deriding

In all my life (except my parents)

Til I went insane

In New York at 24.

Downhill all the way!

And every goddamned one of them

A therapist or patient!

I think about them every day,

Drawn like flies to shit.

But that's the past. Today is new.

Maybe I will live

Another 30 years or so.

But I won't fall in love.

A cold and arid thing to say!

That I won't fall in love.

9-17-13

Jill & Me (Rambling)

Did we meet a year ago?

Has it been that long?

Or has it been a lifetime?

Perhaps when Jesus died.

Allowed to be an Atheist

Just as you preferred,

I had god for breakfast.

I've puked him up for years.

50 years I waited -

Without anticipation -

For you – and only you – to say

My poesy is good.

It's been said before by some -

Not many – by a few -

But never with such staggering abundance.

How can I believe what I

Have never seen myself?
So goes their god and Jesus.

So goes my poesy.

Strong and agile, she writes verse

That I can tell is good.

Not my type and not my way

And not my poesy -

Modern – I am still with Keats -

But beautiful to touch.

She is better. Her you feel.

Me you only think.

Intelligence in poetry?
Perhaps if I just had it.

But still with Keats.

I need not think at all.

9-17-13

 

Moving Out

A nearly empty peanut butter jar,

Styrofoam that packed some old appliance

When it was new, and cellophane that's clamped

And holding pasta overflow the trash

And lie in piles and scatters on the floor.

Is someone moving out or moving in?
Someone has displaced himself

And life is readjusting.

Loneliness is over,

And the world has yet to die.

Bach is on the stereo again.

New pictures from the past are on the table.

The cats need litter. I'll buy that tomorrow.

The day is ending. And this house is mine

Maybe. Nothing's positive as that.

Yesterday he said he won't come back.

Probably. He's said as much before.

Now he said it in another state,

On a ward where he can talk it over.

9-17-13

 

Becoming

Breaking through the barrier

And saying what I want

And will not do -

This will put an end to fear,

Regret without emotion,

And all the little horrors

That the passive suffer through.

9-18-13

 

Patti

An aging woman misses work

Two days, maybe three,

And suddenly she has no job.

SSI is shit!

The system must continue

Without hitch, delay or stopping.

The machine is more important

Than a single living wheel.

The whole is more important than its parts.

9-18-13

 

George & Me

You brain's more competent than mine.

You get along with people

When you are alone with them

Better than I do.

All the world is happiness,

Misery and hate.

Life's a game. Some people have to work.

My poesy is changing.

My soul is changing too.

I've got to to survive. I could

Be here for 30 years.

Honest and reliable

As Lincoln in the rain,

You live for love.

So little comes to you.

Ersatz love from faithless friends!

Vultures on the lonely!

They take it all, give nothing back,

And sit in pews with god.

Come to me when you need love,

Crippled and encrusted

With blood and semen. I won't lie

Or try to take what's yours.

But what I give

May not be adequate.

9-18-13

Crazy Poems

I've stopped writing crazy

To my verse's detriment,

No oxymorons, paradox

Or complicated thinking.

Have my songs diminished,

Not provocative, profound,

If they were,

Or even interesting?

I don't know what's crazy.

I've an inkling what is right.

Knock me off my track and I
Will clamber on again.

I am mold and putty, and I

Go back into shape.

And when I die, I shall go to heaven.

What a thought!

How easily it's said.

9-18-13