The Loser
I am 67
And I'm tired of going last.
I step aside when bullies take a walk.
I even yield to women.
They are strident, sharp and loud.
I seldom tell the truth cause people
talk.
I'm the only loser
When a hippopotamus,
Covered with tattoos and nearly bald
Working in the mini-mart
For 7 bucks an hour
For reasons of his own says things that
scald.
12-14-13
Oakland
Every kind and charitable,
Sensible and sane
Thing that you will find in her
Is countered by a vile
And reprehensible insanity.
Autocratic, fat and
Arbitrary, esoteric
Nightmare nestled in
The soul of Oakland.
Escape! You can't!
She'll chase you and she'll
Linger in your mind -
A single sentence from the seven
Volume tale of Proust.
12-14-13
Compared To Keats
Some beautiful passages,
Cumbersome tedium,
Keats always believed he was
Meant to be great.
With several pieces
That glisten like jewels
Nestled in cotton,
Inferior wool,
I can't believe in my
Fate or my destiny
Greatness or genius were
Promised to me.
The promise! How Christians
With no reassurance
Believe in the promise
That nobody gave.
12-15-13
Awakening
I never was a snob.
I wrote my poems
And I read them.
Never read the hacks.
I read the great ones
Like Millay,
Before her Keats and Brooke and Poe.
But now I slumber shallow,
Wake up in a panic
From inconsequential dreams.
I'm a hack. A dismal hack.
I only wanted rhythms
And quintessential phrases.
I sit in Denny's writing
And they ask me what I'm doing.
Shall I say, “I'm wasting paper”?
Well, my coffee's getting cold.
I'm as close to tears since I was
Listening to Hoffmann -
Antonia – the trio -
Hearing magic brought from hell.
12-15-13
The Trap Door
Surreptitiously feeling I
was
Better than I supposed,
I looked at untalented poets
And considered me better
than them -
Not really -
Considered me better than
them.
Such is my ego, a web
That wraps around bushes and
trees,
Leaves a little attached to
leaves,
Then flutters away in the
wind -
Purblind -
Flutters away in the wind.
Heavy the man on the floor
Who thinks he's secure where
he stands,
Til errant destiny trips the
lever
And plunges him into the sea
And darkness -
Below the trap door and
house.
12-15-13
Tubi
This is a tubby named Tubi,
In charge of the keys and
the gate.
She has her reasons, however
They're due to a personal
hate.
This she won't tell you. Of
course not.
She'll dress it all up with
some lies.
Like Ko-Ko in Gilbert's
“Mikado”,
She comes as a sudden
surprise.
She threw me right out of
her garden,
And rattled her key in the
lock.
Linkedin's there for the
lonely
To squabble and bicker and
squawk.
The megalomaniacs mingle
Who know what their fellows
should do,
Ladle the praises and
censure
Just like an infant of two.
And Tubi herself! She's a
poet
But one who can hardly
construct
A simple declarative
sentence.
Tuby, you bastard, get
f-cked!
12-15-13
Happy
Nothing in my consciousness
implies
Or indicates the tiniest
degree
Of insight, understanding.
But the phrases
And words I think up writing
poetry!
Other people love and live,
have duties,
Values and beliefs. But
what of me?
I have nothing but a pen and
paper
And some inspiration from
the sea.
Right this very instant, I
am happy.
Who knows why? Another
mystery.
Writing now a second little
poem,
Some psychotic genius broken
free.
12-15-13
At Sea
I am manic. I am happy.
Too, too happy. Is this rage?
Sitting
like a doll in Denny's,
Just a little bit offstage.
It seems to me that now I'm writing
Better than I ever wrote.
Or is this a silly fancy,
Something to amuse the goat?
On the edge of thought and feeling,
But it keeps my little boat
Not alone but on the ocean,
Almost midnight and afloat.
Why won't some permissive feelings
Let the human race go free,
As a consequence of writing
In a stolen liberty?
12-15-13
If you like my poems, my name is Joseph Hart. I have books on Amazon and Kindle. You can get to them by dropping down books, then typing Joseph Hart Poetry in the search bar. Most of the paperbacks are $10 or less. Most of the Kindles are $1. I recommend "Ten Chaps" ($12.50 paperback, extra thick), "Words Without Music" (new), "Poems Published in Audience Magazine" and "Endymion Awake". But there are over 70 to choose from (not all on Kindle), and most of them I regret to say are iconoclastic and irreverent.
