Listen,
I am not saying
that you are
not great,
I mean
you are.
You tell me
you love me,
show me,
you work hard
at your job
come home
and cook.
I am
just saying'
that sometimes
I need
a little more-
for Christ's sake
turn a trick
or something.
Screw the
neighbor
then tell me
it didn't
mean a thing.
Shoot at me
when I
come home drunk
or at least
throw
my coffee cup
full
of boiling joe
at my face
while I ignore
you mornings,
caught up
in poems by
Raymond Carver.
I don't want
to hurt you
but I am a poet
and Holy Crap
I kind of have
a reputation.
I can't be
writing love poems
all the time.
Same blog: third name- I can't help myself. Same kind of stuff; a little poetry, a little prose, a little drunkalogue. Some adult themes, and language. Good Times.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Kriptonite.
Kriptonite
I am not Super,
the earths yellow
sun
makes my head
pound
some mornings.
As a boy I
would use
clothespins to
fasten Moms
bath towels
around my
neck.
Close as I
ever got.
Still those
eyes,
like Kriptonite,
make me
weak
steal my ability
to speak
then
make me repeat
myself; ramble.
Caught in the
tractor beam
of her smile
I cannot
pull away.
I am fearful
that Scotty
will
snatch me
from her
in a swirl
of color and
light,
before I tire of
her world.
I never tire
of her world,
or those
Kriptonite eyes.
I am not
Superman,
still
in her presence
I would leap
buildings;
at least make
a bounding try.
I am not Super,
the earths yellow
sun
makes my head
pound
some mornings.
As a boy I
would use
clothespins to
fasten Moms
bath towels
around my
neck.
Close as I
ever got.
Still those
eyes,
like Kriptonite,
make me
weak
steal my ability
to speak
then
make me repeat
myself; ramble.
Caught in the
tractor beam
of her smile
I cannot
pull away.
I am fearful
that Scotty
will
snatch me
from her
in a swirl
of color and
light,
before I tire of
her world.
I never tire
of her world,
or those
Kriptonite eyes.
I am not
Superman,
still
in her presence
I would leap
buildings;
at least make
a bounding try.
Monday, January 7, 2013
I Told Her I Loved Her
I Told Her I Loved Her
For all
of my days-
in every
kind of
storm,
I will remember
the night I
said it
out loud.
Riding a
rocket of
a few more
than I should
Diamond Bear
beers from the
the cooler
and a cheerful
crowd for
my lines,
we stood on
a downtown
sidewalk
littered with
cigarette butts
and past hope
dreams.
She held me
in those
fucking
rain forest-
green eyes.
Rapt.
I do,
I do.
I really do
love you...
I don't
want you,
well I do
but I don't
expect
anything.
Hell, the
damn thing
works better
if you don't...
I just want
to write you
ten thousand
love poems.
She smiled
and that
was good
enough
for me.
For all
of my days-
in every
kind of
storm,
I will remember
the night I
said it
out loud.
Riding a
rocket of
a few more
than I should
Diamond Bear
beers from the
the cooler
and a cheerful
crowd for
my lines,
we stood on
a downtown
sidewalk
littered with
cigarette butts
and past hope
dreams.
She held me
in those
fucking
rain forest-
green eyes.
Rapt.
I do,
I do.
I really do
love you...
I don't
want you,
well I do
but I don't
expect
anything.
Hell, the
damn thing
works better
if you don't...
I just want
to write you
ten thousand
love poems.
She smiled
and that
was good
enough
for me.
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Smoke Rings in the Dark
Lightening hopscotches
across a morose sky
and smoke rings
crash like the surf
against the ceiling
above my bed,
my only company.
I think of the day
and the wicked angels
smile,
and carefree way
that she carries
herself,
the subtle curve
of her form.
I smile at the thought
of her,
laugh aloud at
the things she has
said.
I am jealous of
her boon companions:
Disappointment, Sadness.
Happy though that
they are common friends.
A storm blows in
and I crush out a smoke,
and lightening strikes again.
across a morose sky
and smoke rings
crash like the surf
against the ceiling
above my bed,
my only company.
I think of the day
and the wicked angels
smile,
and carefree way
that she carries
herself,
the subtle curve
of her form.
I smile at the thought
of her,
laugh aloud at
the things she has
said.
I am jealous of
her boon companions:
Disappointment, Sadness.
Happy though that
they are common friends.
A storm blows in
and I crush out a smoke,
and lightening strikes again.
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