This body by which I can be said to exist
Is in a weary slide to decrepitude
A cruel joke by Darwin or God or whomever
Mollified by the fact that I grow tired of it
Return to halcyon youth a mere pipe dream
Will future people be more carefree, or less
Because their minds are backed up to tape
Their worn-out android body parts replaced?
Or will they fear death more than we
Because they can look it in the eye
Untrammeled by myths of life-after-death
The cloying layers of denial that cloak us?
A tape warehouse fire, like the flames of Hell
Consuming souls, now truly damned
Their hopes for resurrection, for eternal life
Dashed by ham-handed tape monkeys
Mislabeling the sepulcres of their tape reels
Or forgetting to push the "rewind" button
April is National Poetry Writing Month
Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts
2015-04-30
2015-04-29
詩 In the Gums of Inspiration
Not being a brilliant genius
Takes some getting used to
When the world is welcoming
It's best to have some doubt
The standards for my own worth
Are not always made so clear
If I feel I must be choosen
Then my agency goes away
Like Godot, I sit, await my muse
In hopes she'll show me where to go
If I'm not already doing things
Then how can she take over?
April is National Poetry Writing Month
Takes some getting used to
When the world is welcoming
It's best to have some doubt
The standards for my own worth
Are not always made so clear
If I feel I must be choosen
Then my agency goes away
Like Godot, I sit, await my muse
In hopes she'll show me where to go
If I'm not already doing things
Then how can she take over?
April is National Poetry Writing Month
2015-04-28
詩 Legacy of Mediocrity
Nothing poetic comes to mind
To eulogize this daily grind
Each day we're called forth to give
That future folk might know we lived
Though we find this life too ugly
Rather than turn in silence, smugly
With doggerel or ringing verse
We should cast down our curse
That tomorrow's children read our rhymes
And heed our warnings for all time
April is National Poetry Writing Month
To eulogize this daily grind
Each day we're called forth to give
That future folk might know we lived
Though we find this life too ugly
Rather than turn in silence, smugly
With doggerel or ringing verse
We should cast down our curse
That tomorrow's children read our rhymes
And heed our warnings for all time
April is National Poetry Writing Month
2015-04-27
詩 I'm Just Sayin'
The act of creation
Takes place after conception
It begins after parturition
With the 99% perspiration1
Genius is not genius
That does not clarify the difficult
Unless it leads to action
Produces some result
Show me the money
What have you done for me lately?
The artist must deliver a product
And that is the true burden of genius
1 Thomas Alva Edison
April is National Poetry Writing Month
Takes place after conception
It begins after parturition
With the 99% perspiration1
Genius is not genius
That does not clarify the difficult
Unless it leads to action
Produces some result
Show me the money
What have you done for me lately?
The artist must deliver a product
And that is the true burden of genius
1 Thomas Alva Edison
April is National Poetry Writing Month
2015-04-26
詩 We Are Animals
We are all just animals
We are only kind
If we don't have to fight for our own
Our instinct is to bully
Hurt when we can
Otherwise cower in fearful suspicion
Society is the ultimate expression
Of our willingness to harm
Mankind, ready to kill
What is the lie we tell ourselves?
The myth we cling to?
The snake oil we all quaff?
That an individual somehow matters
Like a conservative admires radicals
Centuries after their deaths
When their heresies at last are palatable
We revere certain persons
Who we think have made our lives better
But whom we mistreated while they lived
The meat grinder of history will have its fill
We all know the greatest legacy is survival
But are repulsed by what it takes to make it
We do not fear that it will be hard
Or that we shall have to do horrible things
But that if we hesitate they shall be done to us
April is National Poetry Writing Month
We are only kind
If we don't have to fight for our own
Our instinct is to bully
Hurt when we can
Otherwise cower in fearful suspicion
Society is the ultimate expression
Of our willingness to harm
Mankind, ready to kill
What is the lie we tell ourselves?
The myth we cling to?
The snake oil we all quaff?
That an individual somehow matters
Like a conservative admires radicals
Centuries after their deaths
When their heresies at last are palatable
We revere certain persons
Who we think have made our lives better
But whom we mistreated while they lived
The meat grinder of history will have its fill
We all know the greatest legacy is survival
But are repulsed by what it takes to make it
We do not fear that it will be hard
Or that we shall have to do horrible things
But that if we hesitate they shall be done to us
April is National Poetry Writing Month
2015-04-24
詩 The Map to Tanagra
A word on its own can only begin to describe
One hand behind its back, in chain mail mittens
Grabbing for needles in the haystack of my feelings
A one-legged cat trying to bury turds on a frozen pond
A long-tailed cat in a room full of rockingchairs
A sense of impending doom
I long to be Darmok or Jalan at Tanagra
But instead of Temba, his arms wide
I wait for Godot
I grasp at the feeling
On the smooth countertop
Slicker'n snot on a doorknob
In my chain mail mittens
Like I been rid hard and put away wet
Tired as a turtle, dog my rabbits
Coming out of my skin
The walls closing in
I ain't got no more idea than a hog
Metaphors, analogies, and anecdotes to the rescue
There is no dictionary
There is no map through the labyrinth
You have to be willing to struggle
You have to want to understand
April is National Poetry Writing Month
One hand behind its back, in chain mail mittens
Grabbing for needles in the haystack of my feelings
A one-legged cat trying to bury turds on a frozen pond
A long-tailed cat in a room full of rockingchairs
A sense of impending doom
I long to be Darmok or Jalan at Tanagra
But instead of Temba, his arms wide
I wait for Godot
I grasp at the feeling
On the smooth countertop
Slicker'n snot on a doorknob
In my chain mail mittens
Like I been rid hard and put away wet
Tired as a turtle, dog my rabbits
Coming out of my skin
The walls closing in
I ain't got no more idea than a hog
Metaphors, analogies, and anecdotes to the rescue
There is no dictionary
There is no map through the labyrinth
You have to be willing to struggle
You have to want to understand
April is National Poetry Writing Month
詩 Frustration
Frustration
Is a decision
Expectation
Is a decision
The path to enlightenment
Is admitting this to myself
Whenever I impose
A difference between
What I want
And what I have
I am choosing not to be serene
April is National Poetry Writing Month
Is a decision
Expectation
Is a decision
The path to enlightenment
Is admitting this to myself
Whenever I impose
A difference between
What I want
And what I have
I am choosing not to be serene
April is National Poetry Writing Month
2015-04-23
詩 Out There
Creatures of my imagination
What makes you less real
Than denizens of so-called "reality"?
I can see everything as a reflection
Of my own ego, if I am honest enough
To admit the horror is of my own making
April is National Poetry Writing Month
What makes you less real
Than denizens of so-called "reality"?
I can see everything as a reflection
Of my own ego, if I am honest enough
To admit the horror is of my own making
April is National Poetry Writing Month
2015-04-22
詩 Getting Along
Other people must act a certain way
Otherwise I cannot be happy
Don't they know the rules I have set?
They are so obvious, so fair
Why can't we all just get along?
Even when I explain the rules
They break them, don't follow them
Don't they know that cheating is wrong?
Why can't we all just get along?
Even if people acted the way they should
I would still not be happy
That's why we cannot get along
April is National Poetry Writing Month
Otherwise I cannot be happy
Don't they know the rules I have set?
They are so obvious, so fair
Why can't we all just get along?
Even when I explain the rules
They break them, don't follow them
Don't they know that cheating is wrong?
Why can't we all just get along?
Even if people acted the way they should
I would still not be happy
That's why we cannot get along
April is National Poetry Writing Month
2015-04-21
詩 Eating Dessert First
She really said "Qu'ils mangeant de la brioche!"
A bread with milk and eggs in it, almost like cake
Before they cut off Marie Antoinette's head
When they told her her people rioted for bread
The wages of the sin of eating dessert first are death
I hear women say that their baby is allergic to cow's milk
Or that they cannot afford formula
Knowing the fate of Marie Antoinette
I almost shrink from suggesting the obvious
Have you noticed those things hanging in front of you?
The ones everybody's not supposed to stare at or sexualize
Because their main function is feeding a baby?
Suffer the little children to come unto me1
For I am the bread of life2
My milk, my eggs, all mixed in with the meal
You may have my cake and eat it, too
Take my yolk...please3!
The joy of dining with a truly intimate friend
Unsullied by the cold formality of jackets, napkins,
Tablecloths, serving dishes, choosing the right wine
And remembering to pick up the right fork
The one time in life when it's okay to eat dessert first
And staring at cleavage is actually encouraged
Perhaps those who began life with dessert
Are not worried when not every meal has one
They already trust the sweet satisfaction
Even if they don't experience it every day
Those who missed it tremble with yearning
Even with dripping fork still in fingers' grip
And grow fat, even as they starve away to nothing
1Matthew 19:14
2John 6:35
3Henny Youngman Jesus Chicken, Matthew 11:29
April is National Poetry Writing Month
A bread with milk and eggs in it, almost like cake
Before they cut off Marie Antoinette's head
When they told her her people rioted for bread
The wages of the sin of eating dessert first are death
I hear women say that their baby is allergic to cow's milk
Or that they cannot afford formula
Knowing the fate of Marie Antoinette
I almost shrink from suggesting the obvious
Have you noticed those things hanging in front of you?
The ones everybody's not supposed to stare at or sexualize
Because their main function is feeding a baby?
Suffer the little children to come unto me1
For I am the bread of life2
My milk, my eggs, all mixed in with the meal
You may have my cake and eat it, too
Take my yolk...please3!
The joy of dining with a truly intimate friend
Unsullied by the cold formality of jackets, napkins,
Tablecloths, serving dishes, choosing the right wine
And remembering to pick up the right fork
The one time in life when it's okay to eat dessert first
And staring at cleavage is actually encouraged
Perhaps those who began life with dessert
Are not worried when not every meal has one
They already trust the sweet satisfaction
Even if they don't experience it every day
Those who missed it tremble with yearning
Even with dripping fork still in fingers' grip
And grow fat, even as they starve away to nothing
1Matthew 19:14
2John 6:35
3Henny Youngman Jesus Chicken, Matthew 11:29
April is National Poetry Writing Month
2015-04-20
詩 Taking a Beating
The beatings will continue until morale improves
That seems to be how I live my life
Having a happy and grateful attitude comes before
Getting everything that I want
April is National Poetry Writing Month
That seems to be how I live my life
Having a happy and grateful attitude comes before
Getting everything that I want
April is National Poetry Writing Month
2015-04-19
詩 Survival
The fear of lack of resources
Why should I care if anybody cares?
Life in a dysfunctional family
The mitzvah is not to help
You help only by escaping
In an intolerable situation
You can help only in dying well
Or in showing there is a way out
If I help you to survive the horror
Less pain now means more pain later
If I keep you afloat, then when I am gone
You will drown, without being ready for it
April is National Poetry Writing Month
Why should I care if anybody cares?
Life in a dysfunctional family
The mitzvah is not to help
You help only by escaping
In an intolerable situation
You can help only in dying well
Or in showing there is a way out
If I help you to survive the horror
Less pain now means more pain later
If I keep you afloat, then when I am gone
You will drown, without being ready for it
April is National Poetry Writing Month
2015-04-18
詩 Recycling
Recycling
The used bits of my life
What joy they brought
Is now faded
Can they be useful
To somebody else?
Can the expense of my suffering
Help another to avoid pain?
Why do I care
If my life had meaning?
Isn't it enough
That I was alive?
April is National Poetry Writing Month
The used bits of my life
What joy they brought
Is now faded
Can they be useful
To somebody else?
Can the expense of my suffering
Help another to avoid pain?
Why do I care
If my life had meaning?
Isn't it enough
That I was alive?
April is National Poetry Writing Month
2015-04-16
詩 Homme et Femme
J'ai envie de te baiser
Je ne sais pas pourquoi
Tu ne sais pas non plus
Mais tu comptes là-dessus
J'imagine que tu m'objectifie
Puisque je t'attire, d'après toi
Malgré la manque chez moi
De tout ce que me passionne chez toi
Mais je comprends néanmoins
Pourquoi tu as besoin de moi,
Mais tu ne comprendra jamais
Pourquoi j'ai besoin de toi
Je ne sais pas pourquoi
Tu ne sais pas non plus
Mais tu comptes là-dessus
J'imagine que tu m'objectifie
Puisque je t'attire, d'après toi
Malgré la manque chez moi
De tout ce que me passionne chez toi
Mais je comprends néanmoins
Pourquoi tu as besoin de moi,
Mais tu ne comprendra jamais
Pourquoi j'ai besoin de toi
詩 Reindeer Presidents
You know Dasher and Dancer and Pracer and Vixen
Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen
And you know Washington and Adams
And Carter and Nixon
But then there's Madison and Monroe and one more Adams,
John Quincy
Jackson gave the world the Trail of Tears
Then the North-South tensions began
Let's compromise with Missouri and Maine
Sorry Massachusetts
Then it's a rather boring stretch
From van Buren to Harrison
Tyler, Polk, Taylor, Fillmore
Taylor, Tyler, Tyler, Taylor,
Pierce, Buchanan, then Lincoln,
And let's call the whole thing off
Lincoln freed all the slaves, except those in the Union
And ordered the country's biggest mass execution
The country's first Presidential assassination
Followed by Garfield three Presidents later
Lincoln's VP, Johnson, the first impeached by Congress
Then Abraham's General Ulysses Grant took office
After just four years a Hayes settled, followed by Garfield
And a bunch of one-termers up until Roosevelt
Arthur, Cleveland, Harrison, then Cleveland again,
The only to serve non-consecutive terms
Perhaps "Grover Cleaved-land" would memory serve
McKinley took the final term of the 19th Century
Roosevelt took the first of the 20th, then gave Taft the helm
And decided to take it back. He wanted to the be the
first President elected more than twice
Such honor would fall to his cousin Franklin Delano
Twenty years and four Presidents later
Instead he split the party, and Wilson won the day
The Great War ended, Harding, Coolidge, Hoover,
And the world was at war again with Roosevelt and Truman
Eisenhower was their general
And President of the Chilly Peace that followed
Kennedy was the next President
To be killed in office
Johnson, his JFK's VP, a second run declined
Nixon was the first President to resign
Ford, Carter, Reagan, Bush, and Clinton
Bush only the second father-son tag-team administration
A mother-daughter tag-team may soon be in the offing
And while Harding had the largest feet of all
For now, so far, Obama has the most recent
Ancestry back to Africa
POTUS
Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen
And you know Washington and Adams
And Carter and Nixon
But then there's Madison and Monroe and one more Adams,
John Quincy
Jackson gave the world the Trail of Tears
Then the North-South tensions began
Let's compromise with Missouri and Maine
Sorry Massachusetts
Then it's a rather boring stretch
From van Buren to Harrison
Tyler, Polk, Taylor, Fillmore
Taylor, Tyler, Tyler, Taylor,
Pierce, Buchanan, then Lincoln,
And let's call the whole thing off
Lincoln freed all the slaves, except those in the Union
And ordered the country's biggest mass execution
The country's first Presidential assassination
Followed by Garfield three Presidents later
Lincoln's VP, Johnson, the first impeached by Congress
Then Abraham's General Ulysses Grant took office
After just four years a Hayes settled, followed by Garfield
And a bunch of one-termers up until Roosevelt
Arthur, Cleveland, Harrison, then Cleveland again,
The only to serve non-consecutive terms
Perhaps "Grover Cleaved-land" would memory serve
McKinley took the final term of the 19th Century
Roosevelt took the first of the 20th, then gave Taft the helm
And decided to take it back. He wanted to the be the
first President elected more than twice
Such honor would fall to his cousin Franklin Delano
Twenty years and four Presidents later
Instead he split the party, and Wilson won the day
The Great War ended, Harding, Coolidge, Hoover,
And the world was at war again with Roosevelt and Truman
Eisenhower was their general
And President of the Chilly Peace that followed
Kennedy was the next President
To be killed in office
Johnson, his JFK's VP, a second run declined
Nixon was the first President to resign
Ford, Carter, Reagan, Bush, and Clinton
Bush only the second father-son tag-team administration
A mother-daughter tag-team may soon be in the offing
And while Harding had the largest feet of all
For now, so far, Obama has the most recent
Ancestry back to Africa
POTUS
2015-04-15
2015-04-14
2015-04-13
詩 The Perspective of Inanimate Objects
I am the patient coffee mug coaster
Never to be tragically broken
Like my cork-bottomed ceramic yellow-glazed brother
A souvenir from the ski stations of Hokkaido
Watch out! Bears are about!
A tough leather disk, me
Bravely carrying my corporate message
Pulsar Technologies, complete with logo and URL
Like talking and chewing gum
I can't do both jobs at once
You set down your mug, obscuring my message
Or I protect your vinyl countertop
Which doesn't really need protecting
But then you, the innovator, set me atop the cup
My bum gets steamy, I keep the coffee hot
I feel so useful
The writing stamped into my surface
Seems ancillary to the memories of your friend Gary
Whose desk you stole me from when he left for retirement
They say that material things don't matter
But when you let go of the very last one of them
You let go of everything.
(for 13 April 2015, National Poetry Writing Month)
Never to be tragically broken
Like my cork-bottomed ceramic yellow-glazed brother
A souvenir from the ski stations of Hokkaido
Watch out! Bears are about!
| 熊出没注意 Kuma shutsu botsu chu-i |
A tough leather disk, me
Bravely carrying my corporate message
Pulsar Technologies, complete with logo and URL
Like talking and chewing gum
I can't do both jobs at once
You set down your mug, obscuring my message
Or I protect your vinyl countertop
Which doesn't really need protecting
But then you, the innovator, set me atop the cup
My bum gets steamy, I keep the coffee hot
I feel so useful
The writing stamped into my surface
Seems ancillary to the memories of your friend Gary
Whose desk you stole me from when he left for retirement
They say that material things don't matter
But when you let go of the very last one of them
You let go of everything.
(for 13 April 2015, National Poetry Writing Month)
詩 The Buzz
The sounds of a warm Southern night
Exciting new ways to connect
With my fellow human beings
Now mere stultifying prattle
The beaten horse, zombie-like, yet lives
Ad nauseam in rear-view mirror, post-nauseam now looms
I am either condescendingly bored to tears
Or made to feel painfully inadequate
(for April 12, 2015, National Poetry Writing Month)
Exciting new ways to connect
With my fellow human beings
Now mere stultifying prattle
The beaten horse, zombie-like, yet lives
Ad nauseam in rear-view mirror, post-nauseam now looms
I am either condescendingly bored to tears
Or made to feel painfully inadequate
(for April 12, 2015, National Poetry Writing Month)
2015-04-11
詩 Belief
Action is the touchstone of belief
If one does not act,
Then one does not believe
The 12 Steps
Do not ask that one believe
But merely that one act
Believing may or may not come later
If one does not act,
Then one does not believe
The 12 Steps
Do not ask that one believe
But merely that one act
Believing may or may not come later
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