I keep trying to create order amidst chaos
And am engaged in a losing battle
I try in little ways: I make up the bed,
Call creditors, respond to landlord complaints about DubbleX
Call doctors, write letters to tons of official agencies
Very little seems to help
I keep trying to create order amidst chaos
Life is stories strung together like grapes
Hanging unpicked b4 my eyes
Right there why can’t I see it
I keep looking and trying to touch
I can’t see all the fuss
Ur sweet soft lips pressing against mine
I look into your eyes, your face so fine
I see the little boy inside your eyes
Hidden away from prying eyes
Longing to be freed
The hurt small boy deep inside
Longing for a sheriff’s pin
I want to get back to where I thought you used to be
Wearing your red knit jersey hoodie
Your soft brown eyes shining thru
The dichotomy of the one I see,
the one who isn’t inside
I was going to ask you a word
Umm that sandalwood smells so good
Can’t remember what the word meant
Forget it, everything is falling apart
The bridge on 225th Street is falling down
You tell me on your return
I keep on trying to keep order amidst chaos
Amid stories strung together for their own sake
Sharing our poems about love, tranquility the strife of life
Park walks with chalk talks & loving challenges
To the world, I keep trying to hang on
To hold together the I & I as the cracks in the glass
Increasingly multiplying forming 2 X 2 numbers
The cracks so deep it’s like a crevice where lava has run down
Flowing like my intuition
I’ma’ sit for a minute enjoy the sweet warm taste of the java I made this morning
October 2008
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Saturday, August 14, 2010
David Died
Last night he struggled for his last breath
Flailing his arms, his paws pushed against my chest
Grabbing for me with his last bit of strength
Disbelief in his eyes –
And then they were devoid empty
calling out to the doctor
“He’s passed already”
She looked at his lean slim body
“No,” she said, “his rib cage is still moving,”
She put her stethoscope to his chest
She put her stethoscope to his chest
She shook her head, “You’re right,” she’s said. “He’s gone.”
Questions along with accusations swim in my head
Why didn’t I recognize his symptoms?
Why didn’t I know?
I blame myself - feel guilty
I blame myself - feel guilty
He ate normally until yesterday.
Today he died in my arms
Today he died in my arms
Went about his normal activities
I noticed his shallow breathing a week ago
but his behavior seemed normal
Today he meowed loudly, staring in my eyes.
I saw he was dying
I saw he was dying
The doctor proclaimed he was too far gone
Nothing could save him
Nothing could save him
My heart aches
I doubt it will ever be the same
I doubt it will ever be the same
Longing and sad I wait for him
Sitting at my computer I see
His shadow at the periphery of my vision
His shadow at the periphery of my vision
About to jump on my lap
He would sit for as long as I’d be still
His soft fur like silk against my hand
purring, rumbling beneath my hand
Bright blue eyes staring into mine
He was different from the moment he was born
A malleable mellow fellow demure and docile
David would remain in any position
Siamese are supposed to talk
Not him, he preferred touch
So beautiful and sweet
Why do they have to go first?
I want David back
In memory of David, born January 27th, 2007 – August 10th, 2010
David is the one on the left in both photos.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Rotations of Quotations
The urge to merge, that surge of exploratory
circumference leading from that universal inner desire
Splurge on love with furious abandon and concentration
so powerful it feels like rage always on the verge of the next glorious conception,
A reception of unrivaled perception like a climax
And get this no hidden taxes, no more sales taxes, inheritance taxes, gift and land taxes even stamp taxes
every way I turn I spurn the next tax crack the ax on it estate tax poll tax license tax
Cover the tracks of my pain, skip the lines of taxes back on climax anti war tax withholding tax too bad we don’t relax these taxes and rely on Marxist taxes and don’t think antioxidants will cure me of the blues
Purged glory to gory what a story isn’t it always
We have so many clues
A mischarge recharged a large electric charge
A surcharge a cover charge a take charge explosive dishonorable discharge
Vindictive surly abrasive afflictive action
Can’t alleviate the stain on that purple blue velvet so soft like rain drops drawing cursive on a window pane
wild adrenalin addictive chocolate’s submissive dripping from my chin
My anticonvulsive cardio selective beehive alive behind the iron curtain
The jewish question, he shoved Mein Kempf in my hands I read the jews are not lovers of water, especially the ones who wear black dresses they have no state of their own they only learn languages not assimilate to different countries they’re like parasites waiting to take over the world,
they’re a different race, he tried to erase all traces the US turned their faces away until our army base, pearl harbor, was hit by the Japanese.
Did he think the Japanese were a new Arayan race
Hitler a curse on the human race
Kwan Yin show mercy on my brethren no more suffering
The intro says they publish this book to show the world that humanity is never ever exempt from responsibility ignorance is only a pretense they intend to commence at my expense
Now it’s past tense pray for a new line of defense
Grow a new healthy skin to cover the wound of my eloquence
circumference leading from that universal inner desire
Splurge on love with furious abandon and concentration
so powerful it feels like rage always on the verge of the next glorious conception,
A reception of unrivaled perception like a climax
And get this no hidden taxes, no more sales taxes, inheritance taxes, gift and land taxes even stamp taxes
every way I turn I spurn the next tax crack the ax on it estate tax poll tax license tax
Cover the tracks of my pain, skip the lines of taxes back on climax anti war tax withholding tax too bad we don’t relax these taxes and rely on Marxist taxes and don’t think antioxidants will cure me of the blues
Purged glory to gory what a story isn’t it always
We have so many clues
A mischarge recharged a large electric charge
A surcharge a cover charge a take charge explosive dishonorable discharge
Vindictive surly abrasive afflictive action
Can’t alleviate the stain on that purple blue velvet so soft like rain drops drawing cursive on a window pane
wild adrenalin addictive chocolate’s submissive dripping from my chin
My anticonvulsive cardio selective beehive alive behind the iron curtain
The jewish question, he shoved Mein Kempf in my hands I read the jews are not lovers of water, especially the ones who wear black dresses they have no state of their own they only learn languages not assimilate to different countries they’re like parasites waiting to take over the world,
they’re a different race, he tried to erase all traces the US turned their faces away until our army base, pearl harbor, was hit by the Japanese.
Did he think the Japanese were a new Arayan race
Hitler a curse on the human race
Kwan Yin show mercy on my brethren no more suffering
The intro says they publish this book to show the world that humanity is never ever exempt from responsibility ignorance is only a pretense they intend to commence at my expense
Now it’s past tense pray for a new line of defense
Grow a new healthy skin to cover the wound of my eloquence
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)