"id" May….or May Not
(This month will feature selected works from Sometime Grief-barks up the wrong tree)
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After You’re Gone
After your gone and left me crying
After you’re gone there’s no denying
You feel blue, you’ll feel sad
You’ll miss the dearest pal you ever had-
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Bessie Smith w/ the Benny
Goodman Quartet 1935
*
On the cafe table
on this train this morning
is a book of Short Stories
with his art work on the cover
The one he always wanted you to write.
The stories are accounts
of a person’s life.
Each page turns like days
which were collected into years
as a lifetime passed.
Later this afternoon
you are taking his book home.
You will walk in the door
out on the end of the island
to spend time with a lonely woman
who has lost him at last.
She will be so very glad to see you
to have company and conversation
at the end of the day at sunset.
You’ll make her the drink
and crackers with cream cheese
just like he always did
at this time of day.
You’ll place his book in her hands
and perhaps take away
for just a few hours
that dreadful feeling
of loss
of abandonment.
Now you have become
the sound of a familiar voice
the sound of comfort
in the very empty room
he passed away in.
The smile in the doorway
for his wife
your mother
but really
all the heartache in the world
is simply never
just
yours.
*
From the Edna Variations 5/2011
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The Trophy Poet
*
*
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So in the end
My memory
My love for you
All the time and years exchanged
Was relegated to the designation
I once had the Trophy Poet.
My
But wasn’t he fun
To parade around.
He was usual looking
He was married
He was passionate.
He was scandalous
And nuts about you
Just like in those
Romance novels
And for a while there
He tasted like lightening in a bottle.
And you knew he would do anything
In the world for you.
Except relinquish
His identity.
And so you’ll have to settle for
The memory of the Trophy Poet
Who drank too much
Danced your legs
Off till dawn
Sang in the shadows
Of your kitchen
Made you laugh
and come so hard.
Because you couldn’t tame him
House brake him
Guess he wasn’t
The house broken poet
After all
Just couldn’t get that SOB
To eat his peas and carrots
And like it.
But
How he loved you.
Like nobody else
ever did.
8/2011
*
*
Don’t Ask
*
Never ask when
you know what all ready
Your thoughts may escape
but you won’t.
Words might fly off the handle
but not far enough to be heard
either distinctly or accurately.
Drama is never
in short supply
in this stage flat world.
But good scripts
are at a premium
while eager bad actors abound.
So……
If you don’t know your own lines
any better than anyone else ?
Don’t ask.
5/2009
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Back Fence Neighbors
*
(for Minnie)
Saw my next store neighbor
in the adjacent yard over
the fence between us on a
May evening and of course
I said hi and she asked
how I was doing…..
and I replied
O….Ok….I guess
and she said
you guess ?
Yeah I went
most people when asked that
either brag or complain
or worse yet ?
*
They explain.
5/2012
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Nothing to See Here
-Well I honestly didn’t think I was doing anything wrong. In the past there was always somebody to pay for what I wanted behind me.
-Actress Gene Tierney’s explanation when caught shoplifting in the film Whirlpool (B & W 1947)
No Yellow crime scene tape.
No chalk outline of a victim on the asphalt.
A crowd didn’t gather.
Perhaps someone wandered by on the way to
the store and might have glanced here
in this direction looking for something else.
Just curious.
That’s all.
But really ?
No one saw anything.
A bored cop took the complaint
from an anonymous source.
Turned out to be a false report anyway.
It was ascertained that truth was the only injured party.
But nobody could locate that
And it never showed up at the hearing anyway.
The only charges filed were dropped later
due to lack of any real evidence
Or indication of criminal intent.
So Enough.
Nothing to be seen here.
Not even Poetry was called in to question.
So just….
Move along.
Nothing to see here.
*
From Sometimes Grief – 2011/2012
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You Must Fight it
*
*
You must fight it
Like a champ
You must
You have to
No choice
Are you going let
Those soft bottomed
Ham and Egg-er stiffs
Beat you ?
Sure.
You’re swinging at specters now
Realizing you are really alone
Here in this ring.
Your opponent
Your sparring partner
Bolted long ago
They can’t take it
Take you
And they come to
Know that after awhile.
They beat you senseless
Silly, bloody, soundly
You go down
Again
And again
And then
Wobble up
On a shaky knee
Stand back up.
To face them with four eyes.
Few have the guts
Or stamina to
Stand toe to toe
With either
What can you take
And dish back out.
So swing Vince
Swing away
Counterpunch
Pepper their ass
To distraction
With your perpetual poetry
You are as Monk
Once said
Endless
Round house them
With your madness
Knocking them
Back on their heels.
You go 18 rounds.
You always
Went the distance.
Anybody who ever
Knocked you out
Was by a split decision
That was fixed by judges
Who wanted to forget
Your name.
Just remember
They all end up
Kissing the canvas
Sooner or later
And you’re no
Different.
But the fight in you ?
That just doesn’t go away.
So don’t
Ever take off
Those gloves
Until
They
Cut them off you.
Sometimes Grief -2011-2012
*
*
The Bank of Infinity
In just one second
the moment rolled
over on the next
tried in truth
to skip it
but ended up
stepping on it instead
threw it under the
bus of time and snarled,
“you know there are plenty more
where you came from.”
So it would appear that the clock
is durations ego after all
furiously
relentlessly
scribbling checks
against the assets
of the 1st Nation Bank of Infinity.
Boredom
Intoxication
and Pain
had all been writing Rubber Eden checks
concluded their business
in the lobby and head down to the bar.
Boredom bought the first round
and looked around checking his watch
and indicated to just keep them coming
Boredom called Silence by name
as it walked in the door remarking,
I just don’t know what I going to do
with these other two.”
Silence shrugged wordlessly.
It always did just that.
Boredom approved
and set to murdering the seconds
like stepping on Ants.
Pain spoke up,
“you think that hurts them?”
Boredom yawned
“Give me another hour to think about that”
Intoxication quickly added
“Yeah….by then we should know something.”
That of course
was the problem
with boredom
preferring to sweat tomorrow
or stew over yesterday
rather than do anything
in the Terrible Now.
Intoxication started laughing
sending a snide barb
“You just can’t think past yourself”
Boredom rechecked his watch shooting back
“Yup…..you’re right on time.”
Predictable
as Intoxication
might have been
The laughter continued
in the face of Boredom’s
obsession with his watch.
Intoxication
looked down the length
of the bar to the swirl of
orange, violet, red, blue
shadows in the
bottles and mirrors
reflected other patrons.
Seduction shot him a look
Delusion took note
sent another round over
Disappointment smirked
Bitter elbowed the ribs
of Smug and grinned.
“You got to know where
all this headed,”
shrugged the Bartender
cutting the lemons and limes
while blood tinted water gushed
into a sink filled with sanitizer.
It was only a matter
of time here
with all of them.
Boredom atrophied the senses
Intoxication insisted
on blowing his to smithereens.
Pain watched
Pain waited in the wings.
There was all the time
in the Bank of Infinity
to spread around here.
All sure things
had expiration dates.
And who knew
whose default that was ?
But they all came to Pain.
Sooner or later.
You could count on that.
Take it to the Bank
as the next moment
rolled over on the……
*
Sometimes Grief 2011-12
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Just a Matter of Time
*
On a Friday Spring afternoon
just before suppertime
I’m sitting out in the Garage
at workbench drinking a cold
bottle of tall neck life with
chucks of ice stuck to it
like barely barnacles
smoking camels
and eating fresh crispy
little horn of plenty corn chips
looking over at a pile
of mute televisions
stacked in the corner
like dead eyes
thinking
that this moment
is pretty damn near perfect
inasmuch
considering
all the sure thing suffering
and certain death looming
ahead for everybody
I know and love
including myself
So in the meantime
I mow the law
black bag leaves from last Fall
with a missing teeth rake
trim a few branches
and gradually
accept
and give in
to the reality
at last
that I will do
any goddamn thing
I want to
And think I can get away with
anytime I get that chance
before it all
does it to me.
*
Sometime Grief 2011-2011
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