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Wednesday, November 30, 2011

#334 Once Around the Block Jeeves

Your hollow words
Do not change how I feel
Treacly platitudes
Do not make the pain
Any less real

It lives inside my head
It leaks into my soul
And fills up my heart
Until its black as coal

I make a hangman's noose
For fun most every day
But I won't hang myself
How boring
Nor cut myself with a knife
That's just attention whoring

It's my lack of faith
That keeps me here
When all grows dark
And the stench of hopelessness is near

If I had faith
In any god or religion
I could look forward to heaven and hell
Perhaps limbo or even reincarnation
Offering a second chance for salvation

As it is
I see only one chance
One scant span
Perhaps seventy years planned

Everything I am and know
Is encapsulated within that time
If time were a commodity
It would be precious and fine

It is what it is
This life that I have
I am miserable
But not all the time
I do dwell on my past
It's my right
My past is mine
I can no more ignore it
Than I can stop my own heart
It makes me who I am

It shapes my being

So to those who tell me
To cheer up
To look on the bright side
Or even that they'll pray for me:

Don't you have
Your own sins to sow?

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

#333 Book Of Secrets

Six inches square
Bound in leather
100 pages thick
A little black book
But not for phone numbers
Or for daily diaries

This book is for secrets

What sort
I do not know
It's not for my eyes
Nor for me to show

Can't see
Can't tell

How do I even know it exists?

I am it's guard
A book's man at arms
One might say
I watch over it
Manage it's day to day

Regardless of what's inside
I keep it safe
No fools will I abide
You keep your distance
And we'll be just fine
What I'll do to protect that book
You'll never know until you cross that line

Strategies of kings
Whispers of queens
Infidelities of a prince
A Pope's passions and dreams
Keys to the kingdom
Of riches untold
A combination to the vault
Which holds all the gold
Treasures from the Pharaohs
Valuable, moldy, and old
There for the taking
If you were only so bold

It might be all in that little black book
Or maybe it's not
Dream your little dreams
They're all that you've got

Monday, November 28, 2011

#332 Red

It's bleeding in
I don't know why
I'm certain it won't come off
But I have to try

But not right now

This shirt started today
A vibrant red hue
But now it's faded
Sad and blue

Looks more grey now actually

It started because of the rain
At least that's what it seemed
The red became splotchy
And spread to my skin
It seeped in good
Curdling within

I feel absolutely sick

The feeling compounded
Stacking up like interest
Always upwardly rounded
My organs felt red
I can't even explain what that means
I tried and didn't understand what was said

It sounded like a foreign tongue

Now bathed in redness
From the inside out
All appeared normal
None suspected I was without
Without what?
I can scarcely say it

My soul seemed to be missing

Perhaps this shirt was enchanted
And even right now
Some witch is cackling
With my soul in her jar
Flitting about like a firefly
A tiny contained star

This shirt is an ugly grey

And so the ugly grey covers me
As I stumble ahead
Empty inside
Coated in red
I've even forgotten what I'm missing
Which in this situation may be kind

The redness it appears
Has now spread to my mind

Sunday, November 27, 2011

#331 Is Puzzling

How puzzling
This puzzle of mine
It breaks into pieces
And has a limited time
All the bits must fit together
But I have no idea how
I use touch
Light as a feather
And try heavy
As a hammer blow

Neither approach
Has much effect
The puzzle remains
Enigmatic as ever

After some time
I start to come around
To the idea
That it isn't a puzzle at all
That it's just random noise
Strange fitting pieces
That don't belong together
Form no string
Are just random numbers
Generated for effect
For mystery
Like a cynical hipster
Who puts nonsensical sayings
Boldly on a T-shirt
And when someone comments
He'll sneer
With dripping condescension
And inform them

"This isn't a quote
This isn't wisdom
This is something I made up
Just to baffle stupid people
Like you"

Hipsters need a good punch in the snout

Then one day
I wake up slowly
A dream fading quickly in my head
The first thing I see as I sit up
Is the puzzle
Suddenly no longer filling me with dread
It makes sense!
I can see the solution clear in my head

I quickly sit down
My hands and eyes
In coordination for once
And then the puzzle is done

Disappointment washes over me
Deep grief out of proportion
With what has happened
For now
It is no longer a mystery
A riddle of kings
It's just something common
Making me hang my head and weep
For my lost purpose
My opponent
My Joker
I need this feeling to stop
I need a new lover
I grab my keys with purpose on my mind
To buy another puzzle
Worthy of me
At my local hobby shop

Saturday, November 26, 2011

#330 Protesting The Protest

But you are despicable!
I loathe everything
That you stand for
Your ideas, thoughts, ethics
Those, and so many more

Of the KKK
Of abortion rights
Both for and against
Westboro Baptist Church members
And lately those called OCCUPY
Of Your right to assembly
And freedom of speech
You'd better be glad

Because if it were up to me
I'd put you in jail
I'd throw away the key


When the time comes
That I have something to say
A concept to protest
Public opinion I would wish to sway

I want those rights to be there
So that I may have a voice
My freedom of speech
My right to assemble
To exercise
Or not
As is my choice

When I'm there
Saying things
That you might not agree
I don't wish to be pepper sprayed
To be bullied
Or beaten
In the street for all to see

Rubber bullets and zip ties
Bean bags fired from a gun
Tear gas and batons
None sound like any fun

But they are the tools of oppression
Our foe on any given day
If I were to endorse their use on you
I should be fine with those tools
Being turned upon me

But I'm not

So protest
Do your worst
Do your best
As long as non violence is your tool
Your rights should not be abridged
Freedom won't make you it's fool

Friday, November 25, 2011

#329 Is Black Friday's Bitch

The day is black
But the savings are awesome!
I didn't even know
That I needed a pair of these
What would I do
Without stores telling me my needs?

I'd be lost for certain
With money to spend
And nowhere to end
For the economy
It would be curtains

Doorbusters bust my balls!
I was kicked
I was poked
I was pushed
I might have made a joke
In the end
There can be only one
Who gets that $50 television
And this year
It was me

Oh yeah
Who's the man?

Sitting since three
Icicles on the knees
Very little to spend
On one precious child
Who doesn't understand
The choices between toys and food
Mother stands up to go in
Gets shoved down
Her face stepped in
All in a quest
For this year's hottest toy
At an affordable price

I'm sure her kid will understand

On this dark Friday
Our hearts grow black with greed
More for our money
Our bottomless need
To feed from the bottom
And keep businesses afloat
Who in turn
Pay pennies per hour
To have your shit made

Slavery isn't gone
It requires no specific skin color
Just a cycle of poverty
Barely staved off
Every payday
By work at the grindstone
Chained by sad ideals
Built link by bitter link

One of which
In bold black ink:


Wednesday, November 23, 2011

#328 Giving Thanks, and Not

For all the things
That I should be
And none of the things I shouldn't

For bunnies
For puppies
For Game of Thrones
For Sunday Funnies
For turkey without bones

Certainly not
For Nazis
For pedophiles
Or for ponzis

Can't say thanks enough
For those who love me
For those who hate me
Both keep me on my toes
And force me to grow

I can do without
People who say things
That they think I want to hear
And dreams that showcase
Things that I fear

Thankful for football
But not for the cost to keep it around
Nor for gas prices
But amen to that hot rod sound

Thankful for so many things
And not so much for others
And it's all stuck in my head to stay
On this latest Thanksgiving Day

#327 Eat, Pie, Love

It's a necessity
It's fuel for the body
Soothing for the brain
Feather tickles for the soul
In through the mouth
Warm in the belly
In every way

Spiced apples
In a flaky crust
Pie is to pi
Is too pleasing to my eye
Even just a slice
A mere one eighth
Of the whole
Is just as good
As 0.39269908
And just as necessary
Ask any aficionado
Of Pye

In through the in
Warmth in the body
Soul glowing hotly
Heart pounding softly

Fuzzy mittens of red
Holding one gently
Silky skin held close
The melding of two beings
The classic heart shape
Seen as she bends over
First thing thought of
When you wake up
Last thing on your mind
As you doze to sleep

It's necessary
All three
Take them in
Feed your soul

Eat - Pie - Love

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

#326 Like Oil and Glue

What is a boy to do
Your lips of oil
His of glue
All he wants
Is to be stuck on you

You repel
You slide on by
Sidelong looks
So very sly

He clings
To every single thing
His very presence
A constricting ring

When he's close
You can scarcely breathe
His odor an irritant
Making you sneeze

He doesn't know
How to live without you
You not knowing
How to live with

You move away
Distance only serving
As an arousal
Unnatural and unnerving

What to do
What to say
Time to buy a ticket
Not tomorrow but today

This feeling you just found
Sitting deep in your chest
Buoys your steps
As you head west

Waiting to test the theory
Put it to the test
Of how to mate oil and glue
Which way will work best

Monday, November 21, 2011

#325 Aerodynamic Ceiling

I stare up
It stares down
My hazel lidded eyes
It's pale popcorn frown

We are both dated and old
In need of renovation
Neither one of us
Deserving of a standing ovation

Sleep still encrusts
The edges of my eyes
I wipe it away
Crunchy little pseudo styes

Abbreviated bungee jumps
Of dusty cobwebs
Adorn many of the popcorn bumps
Like an old man's sparse thinning hair

As a child I'd lay abed
And pretend the world was upside down
I'd have to step over headers
To go room to room
Going floor to floor
Required a skillful
Stairwell ceiling slide
Fancy ceiling trim
Became exquisitely curved baseboard
Light fixtures transformed
To abstract art installations
Protruding from the new floor
Usually in center room

All the blood would rush to my head
I'd have to sit up
And turn reality back up
Walking off on my carpeted ceiling
To brave the unknown of outside
Perhaps to cling to trees and grasses
To avoid the gravity of space
The vacuum sucking at my body
And all earth's gasses

I feel motivated
To scrape the popcorn from the ceiling
Not in the push to modernize
But for the off chance
I might not have shoes on
When next my world flips upside down
And I have to walk on that surface
The bottoms of my feet
Will thank me for it
If that lumpy finish isn't there to pulverize

Sunday, November 20, 2011

#324 Dairy Queen Veteran

The local Dairy Queen
On the main street
At the south end of town
Was the best I'd ever seen

The malts they'd make
Would blow your mind
The burgers and fries
The best you'd find

Icon of main street
Witness to many things
Countless first kisses
Exchanges of class rings

Four generations
Of going away parties
John Hodges Sr said goodbye
On a sunny day in July 1942
Smiling and eating ice cream
With his wife and 9 year old son
Before taking off into the wild blue

Another day now 1951
John Hodges Jr this time
Kisses the girls goodbye
Had a burger and ice cream
And the redhead from Rose St.
All three of which
Simply could not be beat

Steve J Hodges in 1970
Ate his ice cream in silence
All alone he kept the tradition
This luck of the Dairy Queen
Stepping onto the bus
His eyes filled with tears
Heart feeling bereft
As he reads a banner in the park
Proclaiming him a baby killer
Before he'd even left

Poor Uncle Steve never came back

In a year closer to now
Another Hodges boy sipped his malt
Dipped his French fries
Taking it all in with his eyes
Surrounded by loved ones
Wishing him luck in Afghanistan
Sat this great grandson
Of great grandpa John

The Dairy Queen sign
Glowing red and white
Cast it's glow upon this scene
It's presence wishing him luck
Whatever that may mean
And when they all hugged him goodbye
His mom trying not to cry
The American flag
Fluttering gently in the breeze
A quiet salute with a bid to come back
For John Hodges the third
Our country's newest Marine

Saturday, November 19, 2011

#323 Can Haz No Internetz?

I have no service again
It never seems to fail
Whenever I need it for something
The signal totally bails

Can't look at Facebook
And communicate with my peeps
Or check my email
For messages from creeps

It's making my eyes bleed
To watch the loading icon spin
It knows that I'm in need
But it refuses to give me win

Good thing I'm not horny
With no porn I'd be so screwed
Jaded to most normal things
My imagination has difficulty being lewd

What if I had to check my bank statement?
Buy a tchotchke from amazon
Read all of my blogs
Maybe watch Cesar whisper to dogs

I may have to do the unthinkable
Something that I've dreaded for years
First I have to find some booze that's drinkable
Because actually talking to live people brings me to tears

Friday, November 18, 2011

#322 Last Call

It's 2am again
My glass is empty
The bartender shakes his head
I've missed last call
The snow crunches
As my boots press it down
One crunch at a time
Until I'm home

The bed stands alone
Made up neatly
Dust upon the comforter
Undisturbed in the gloom
The couch creaks
As I collapse into it
Disturbing the cat
Who stalks off
With a backward glance

Pictures on the walls
Look down at me
Covering me in misery
Ghosts of the past
Reminders of loss
Broken glass litters the floor beneath them
From those nights
I couldn't contain my angst

I can't drink enough
To quiet the voices
Punching strangers in the face
Doesn't ease the pain
One day just bleeds into the next
Seems like every one ends the same
On a stool at 2am
Missing last call again

Thursday, November 17, 2011

#321 On The Couch

That sinking feeling
Deep in your chest
Is just me
Setting my anchor
Making a nest

My name is Disquiet
Or maybe Vague Sense of Unease
Wait, wait
I think I have to sneeze

Have a seat
Lay right down
I have some sweets
Let's not have a frown

Tell me your troubles
Your childhood issues
Paint me your landscape
In all it's hilarious hues

That black hole
That you have for a heart
That's sucking everyone in
That would be a good start

Was it your father?
Or perhaps your mother?
Maybe you wanted to kill one
And make love to the other?

That's a bit trite
Too on the nose
I can see you want to keep me on my toes

Well here's a prescription
It might help with the shakes
But mind the addiction
I get tired of explaining myself at wakes

My advice is simple
Pack the poison in
The smaller the package
The smaller the problem

I swear it's safe to do
It doesn't create a potential energy issue
This is all just in your mind
You didn't think it was reality did you?

Have a piece of candy
It will make it all better

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

#320 Sibling Rivalry

Will wonders never cease
The world passes by
I'm stuck here in the crease
Waiting for a feed
That never seems to come

It's made me bitter
That much is clear
I've started resenting things
Both strange and dear
It doesn't matter

Something breeds contempt
You think you know the answer
So simple so trite
It's all just wrapped up in a bow for you
Isn't it
Fuck you
You know I'm right

Go ahead and play that mandolin
Your mommy got it for you
Just because you had a whim
It's shiny and nice
And a deal at the price
Way to be spoiled
Once again

She always liked you best you know
Oh sure she tried not to let it show
But we all know the truth
Though you're slow and uncouth
You can do no wrong
In her eyes

Give me a chance to score already!
I've been open for years
Your selfishness would bring me to tears
If I didn't want to appear strong
In the face of your indifference

You share with me
And the waiting has poisoned it
Now I don't want it
I light it on fire with my Zippo
And you with it

Later brother

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

#319 Futility In Motion

Mahogany tabletop
It fills my vision
The exquisite grain
The deep rich color
The smooth finish
Like satin under my fingertips

Spinning silver coins
Fluttered upon this backdrop
One always slower than the next
One always about to fall
One always just started

I can't let them all fall
I don't know why
But I can't
Something might happen
Might be the end of me
Might be the end of you

Doesn't matter
My fingers do their work
Catching the faltering coin deftly
Snapping my fingers
As I spin up the coin again
The firelight shimmering
Upon the blurred rim of the coin
As it performs it revolutions
Orbiting it's constant threat
Of losing it's battle
Against friction
The tabletop
And the air itself
Taking their toll upon it's motion

The next coin is about to fall
I catch it
I snap it
I spin it
I watch it

The next coin slows
Demanding my attention

The cycle never ends
It's a series of actions
Without much sense
Only happening
Because I do not stop
Because it's what my father did
Because it's what his father did
And his father's father
Continuing to some unseen point
In the genealogical past

I damn the first coin spinner
But I do it under my breath
Careful not to upset my rhythm
I pluck the slowest coin up

And I spin it once again

Monday, November 14, 2011

#318 Ms Clark Steps Out

Patricia Paula Petunia Clark
Stepped out today on a lark
Her pet possum in one arm
Her patent patterned purse in the other

For no reason at all
Pushing a pram

I'd put the possum in it