Showing posts with label #Joy's Poetry Blog. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #Joy's Poetry Blog. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 11, 2024

Big Mess

 The Mess of My Life

 

Is it my life’s purpose to participate in the unmitigatedness 

of this entire mess, less of life than I desired 

The older I get, the more stuff gets crammed inside my head

Nothing I can do, live with the dread

process the grief, the stress depresses me to see 

underhandedness of people who surround me

in for a penny – in for a pound

lose my mind, in an abyss of fear

lose ground all around

like a throwaway thingamajig 

each day past means one day less than the rest

each day less of me remains

new campaigns seek re-election every day

seek relief and see none

Life a very, very, long dry run

 

Used for sex, thrown away afterward

Relationships sought and denied

In lieu of instinctual, reciprocal sexual favors

Craved for more complex relationships too

a joke on two, who do you say did the dirty deed of wanting all of me 

more than my dream come true, different nightmares

invade my space, my hullabaloo, my valuable time 

I wonder if this mess, this less sunshine every day

 

See what’s left of the unmitigated mess

Done with tests although always tried for more

Did the best I could. It was never enough to see me through 

to better days desired

Make my way through the door, seek that more and 

realize time is brief

Here’s the rub -heroes of our own lives, we grind our way 

a life confined 

prisoners assigned to our demise

Blind and spellbound, stumble through days 

A throwaway and stowaway in my own life

 

I gotta make it through – to the rainbow ridge

Wish I could streamline, unwind the process of this mess

Take a different test, rewind the tape 

Do anew the test of fate thrown in my face

Blind and spellbound, stumble through days 

Too sick for the nightlife, don’t miss it

Always someone’s wife, always avoid lowlife, 

live with stress of the mess

A throwaway, a stowaway in my own life

Monday, June 10, 2024

Peace to the Planet

 PEACE TO ALL SENTIENT BEINGS

 

Summer’s here but living’s not easy

Humidity abates here and there,

The air’s pretty hazy

Times Square is still pretty sleazy

Closed public seating there

Get all our food – from who knows where

When I think about it, get scared

Easy times are rare

Life’s very unfair

Especially for animals on factory farms

Want us to think our meat is here by charm

Nothing’s very clear

If we were to witness animal’s suffering,

Their atmosphere, no space, no air,

Living in their excrement

How many of us could bear

The suffering, does anyone care?

I sit here in my chair waiting

For the rain to come to clean

Dirty city air

While wild horses are corralled

by helicopters in the air

Taken to slaughterhouses in Mexico

Denied food or water, hundreds of thousands

By our inhumane society and made into dog food

Marilyn Monroe, a humanist through and through

Exposed this in her last film, the Misfits, in 1961

Look it up online at American Wild Horse Preservation

Trying to deal with so much cruelty

Horrors, animals’ torment

The world’s not what it’s meant to be

Take a deep breath,

Ask who cares?

How do us humans dare?

Thursday, June 04, 2020

I FEEL

Like a light bulb in a dark room, about to burn out,
Burn out in a fizz, or explosive moment puff of smoke,
Like a campfire built at sunset burns out at sunrise
Eastern sunlight rays appear;
Horizon alive with color’s flow
My heart skips a city girl beat
Nature grasps at my heart with special sounds she creates
Heartbreak hotel still a go to
Every day, survive a new threat
Today it’s the pandemic
Next day worldwide protests
Proclaim Black Lives Matter
when we see George Floyd murdered
because he had a fake twenty-dollar bill
culminate four centuries of wrongs
In the 90's shop owners slipped me fake twenties too
So if I were black I'd be dead
MD prescribes Miralax to cure my ills
Miralax made of plastic, don’t care to use
It about $, who can digest plastic
Plastic imagined good for intestines.
Prefer milk of magnesia to cure my ills
Holding all that shit in there really ain’t healthy
I’m surgeon of my own body and I know what suits my body’s needs
I’ve been living longer with my self than anybody else
So I think I know this body better n’most
Zonked out on fresh brewed coffee
Another poem births inside me
Feel another me emerging again
Anxiety spreads like a bloodstain
Who am I, am I who I want to be,
Reveling in who I am as opposed to who
I could be, hold me back or don’t, I won’t go,
I refuse to be who I am
Swallowed in a gumball,
Society beats reverberate in my head
A new manuscript divides me
Like a light bulb in a dark room, about to burn out
My heart skips a city girl beat

Thursday, December 19, 2019

STRIVE TO STAY ALIVE

STRIVE TO STAY ALIVE

I want to cry for my lost dreams. 
That house made of stone and glass 
with all wood inside the fame 
and fortune I never gained, 
the way my heart has been maimed 
my life tamed and bought at the corner store. 
Dreams estranged 
caught up in the buzz of busy bees
 living day to day in a maze 
on a pension fund 
Money I earned not charity 
driving safe in the slow zone. 
No airs or golden chalices, 
standardized morphing of reality 
Leave me to blaze on a hot day 
Sweat with no underwear. 
I fear for the living dead. 
Live life in my head 
less than half my dreams 
never come to fruition
because I’m not Annie Malone, 
neither is he 
change your tone please, 
Don't use your phone 
while we're having this conversation. 
I want to be a milliner
Tired of infighting, 
heart a siren, beats with desire 
Set the sky on fire, bring souls out of mire, 
stir the fires of love
Ignore the jive of each haze, 
the latest craze
Always some new malaise 
Live like lost
In a moon phase
Do my best to stay alive and thrive




Saturday, January 05, 2019

REINCARNATION TO A NEW LIFE


You need to wake up, live in a daze
a haze of days
Morning noon and night
It ain’t right but there’s no way to stop you
Like talking the living to the dead
Entire life living in the red,
sleep and rest in the bed
it’s my bad nothing eases the pain
pills night and day - no way to stop you
The mental and physical anguish remains the same as you push life to exsanguinate
your blood thins day by day, tire so easy it’s all breezy and good,
you examine your mind, it’s more than a faze
but it’s all good
You explain the drugs are legally prescribed by many different doctors who listen to your complaints
They prescribe pills to alleviate the gaze of hazy pain you live in
Describe pain where it maintains a domicile in your head –
it possesses you, obsesses you search for a nonexistent cure
Can’t accept the prognosis, 18 drugs a day all prescribed to the beat of your heart.
Slows the glow / the glue holding you together disappears in my heart.
Another pill won’t cure your ills. Determine the excess of the access or access to excuse
Excuse me, I meant excess the distress, there’s no elixir to create a victor,
It’s all downhill by doctor’s goodwill
I profess I’m consumed and confused;
is it the syndrome about which comes first - the chicken or the egg?
A stitch in time ain’t worth a dime, do you have the time
On the road to enlightenment, forget sentiments the buck stops here.
Watch on the sidelines while u struggle for a quick exit
Living life like you’re fit to be tied, live life on an incline
Live the fast lane
You’ll regret it, lose out in the end living inside your mind won’t suffice or change the end. Tell myself and tell you.
My words fade in the southwestern wind turning southerly
while we dismiss lists
Stuck in an abyss, lost in time, fade in the dreamer
Stare at your demeanor, lost and found, I stand my ground while Jill comes tumbling after and Jack can’t find his crown
Search through the valley of death
Surmise the crease in your pants
Cry another dance, dry tears in my eyes.
My vision blurred by raindrops falling. 
Remember to see the sea widens
fear to die in the midst of a dream becomes real
You will heal from the power of words I implore

Friday, October 13, 2017

The Planet Completes One More Spin Around The Earth

A pleasant fresh chill fills the air
Evening sings, temperature drops
Season's preview, pull out winter socks
Dark at four thirty, tranquilized
Sun arrives at six forty five
Clocks schedule set back an hour
Quarter moon mesmerizes me
Fragrant mists flower
Bloom in autumn's last hurrah,
Sun salutations drive us, survive one
More rotation around our earth
One more round of death and birth

Saturday, October 15, 2016

I’m a “wanna be”

I’m a “wanna be”
I wanna be graffiti covering walls boldly like Shira and
some old time guy – Crash one –
who painted graffiti on trains
I wanna be classical art like Van-Gogh, Degas and Matisse
Modern like Roy Lichtenstein, Pollach
I wanna be art covered in dead mosquitos
Visions of what we can and should be
Envelop my dreams

I wanna be actress, singer, grand some sports enthusiast
I wanna be poet, writer, Indian girl
Damn 3 percent Indian girl
Don’t you think I know it’s hard to be so many things
All at once, we have to climb high
Be many things all at once

I wanna be means I try every day
To be another me
Media throws so many me’s in my face
Every day I’m like, “Who am I gonna be today
You wanna be me
Try to walk a mile in my shoes

Yes it’s cliché to say but so true
I wanna be Halle Berry, Jenifer Lopez, Marilyn Monroe,
Debbie Reynolds, Beyonce, and Jayne Mansfield
All rolled into one convenient slice of pie

I want to be a Royal Purple Audi 500, Special Pass Auto
I wanna be best of the best, is who I Want To Be
It’s hard to be anyone when mostly everyone
Barely knows who they are today, or tomorrow
Our hearts immune to roars of despair
Controlled by media, the score, blind deaf despair

Back in the day popularly called wanna be’s
Now everyone’s a “wanna be”
Hard to know true, everyone imagines we can be
Who we want to be – nurtured by American dreams,
A society amiss with misfits who all wanna be too
Some few have the means to be more than they are –
I don’t fit in with the Jones, try to fit in
Wherever I can, yeah it’s hard to be a loner
Barely fit in anywhere, if you please
Plus I don’t have the means to fit it in with the Jones
How free would we have to be
To be who we you wanna be today
The controllers say
Free your mind,
I ask can my mind decide my identity?

Try to be, can I be who I want to be today or any day
Happy New Year to you all and to all a good night
Ooooohhhh did ya hear we’re all free
So free that all we need do is free our minds
Be friends with crazy Bob Dylan,
Joni Mitchel and Natalie Merchant
Hobnob with high society
Just a wanna be

Wanna be someone different today?