It’s the news that
you know is coming yet
you never wish to
hear it’s never uttered
by those involved but
shared by someone else
he’s dying I’m told
it’s a sucker punch
you think of him
first naturally but then
as the shock washes
over you you think
of yourself and remember
it’s the remembrance that
pulls the air out
like a vacuum picking
up dirt and dust
and then they come
the tears oh the
tears not because of
sadness but of joy
for then you know
that he will go
and he will remain
a part of you
Category: Creativity
NeverEverAgain (to Melvin)
I just found out that a friend of mine was dying. Our last conversation was a terrible argument that ended things. Today I was reminded of this saying: “Never be mad because you never know when.”
Not
There’s nothing as strong
as not not needing
not wanting there’s freedom
in not there’s peace
in not all there
is in not is
you there’s nothing in
not not even feeling
So when one thinks
of not there’s not
anything and this not
is what I think
God saw before anything
and it was beautiful
GimmeClunkers
Everyone writes a clunker
every now and again
me probably more than
most I have accepted
but here’s the funny
thing about clunkers clunkers
are everywhere bad cooking
horrible dates tasteless jokes
terrible sex clunkers abound
but the best part
about clunkers is they
remind us all when
something is not one
for without the reflection
of our own clunkers
everything would appear bad
Desire
At first I tried
damming my desire at
its source from where
it erupted from ground
but that simply spread
backwards to outlying fields
turning prairie to swamp
Removing the barriers I
innocently watched as to
where the craving wished
to go and at
its end built ramparts
containing it there but
all withholding it did
was breed parasites and
other nasty things that
fed upon another’s flesh
Removing them I let
it go and upon
finding its freedom eventually
ventured into another becoming
not two but one
and this one was
mightier than the two
ever were and they
scraped and grew but
not all rivers make
it to the ocean
Land is a trickster
giving enough to excite
never enough to warrant
it absorbs never absolves
had this land beneath
my desire been rock
then we would’ve washed
to sea but instead
it was sand the
last bastion the final
silent fortress and there
is where desire died
there long before I
knew that I would
