A Nice World

A Nice World

A world that's real? Or a world that's nice?

Jolly England or Afghanistan?

Iraq which was much happier before.

The trouble is I'm not as good as Keats.

Do I want to be like him? I do.
Human depth, the beauty of a wave

Coming from the sea across a shore.

Everything she wants she gets from him,

Leaving us without. Because she's real.

And had a rotten life. Which made her rotten.

Ask me now. I want a world that's nice.

Life's not long enough to be so real.

Guns are real. And war. And Jacqui Schiff.

But not a phony. There's an in between.

Can nice be real? They're nice to me at Denny's.

And like tonight, I do not have to pay.

Love

Love's a word used just too very much.

Now it is a brand of women's clothes.

It is a thing all animals can touch.

What is it? From birth the baby knows.

On Therapy

He said I was intrusive when I asked

How he paid for treatment. Several things

He said I still remember. Til that woman

Fired him. Does treatment only work

From someone that you like, if he is nice?
If she's vicious (Mary Kelly was),

You may remember, but it doesn't help.

 

Two

Tonight we talked. Very sad at first.

We went to Denny's. All my friends were there.

The java free. We came home and talked

Some more. And all my feelings went away.

It's almost two, and he may be asleep

Very soon. If I sit up til dawn

Writing songs I wish were more like Keats,

I'll be a weary rag when he wakes up.

Forgiveness

I'm forgiving of most any crime,

However coming from a heart of slime,

Which only gets me shot a seventh time.

Let the person change – he never does -

Or seem to be no longer what he was

Or smile and speak – and I relax because

Jesus is my savior. Jesus bled.

In Sunday School, that's what my teachers said.

So went her fantasy – not truth instead.

Clean your window. Cease to see the sky.

Look at cats and flower. We will die.

But interesting things are going by.

A poem is a phrase one tries to clutch,

Images that one can almost touch -

Ideas unimportant, small and such.

I'm sorry that my poems have become pedantic little lectures.  I hate this.  From my first taste of poetry, I knew I didn't like didactic poems. I hope all my poems are not like this.  Shakespeare had the right idea on this.  He said true things, but he didn't lecture or preach.

I'm also sorry that two years posting poems haven't sold any books.  I feel like Rodgers & Hart looking for someone to produce "Dearest Enemy".  Rodgers said they went to all the rich homes and sang the songs.  No one was interested.  After some time of this, Rodgers said they were only providing after dinner entertainment, not auditioning a show.