Thursday, May 1, 2014

April 2014 K Poems


The tale of the snoring man

I caught a woman who I was in love with
sneaking out of her bedroom in the middle
of the night with her pillow. Where are you
going I asked her through tired and suddenly
self-pitying eyes? Why are you and your pillow
leaving me? You snore she said. I cannot sleep
with your snoring. We discussed the matter
the next morning and she told me that she thought
that I might have sleep apnea and that I should
get a sleep study done. I was never rested.
I could never get enough sleep. I was always
napping but never feeling anything but tired.
The sleep doctor confirmed that I had sleep apnea
and I have slept with a mask over my nostrils
attached to a hose that is attached to a c-pap
machine that emits air ever since not really a very
romantic thing for the one next to me to lay down
with but at least she can sleep.







First smell of the morning

should be coffee, not dog piss,
but this morning when I opened
my office door, which is where
my dogs sleep, my nostrils were
assaulted by urine. The stench
is not unlike the one you find
on downtown elevators or in alley ways;
but those smells are created by bums
men without a home to piss in
who are not allowed to use “public”
restrooms not by dogs who are
supposed to love you.



A writer who's not writing.
A baker without dough.
A banker without money.
A lawyer with no clients.
A doctor with no patients.
A mechanic with no broken vehicles.
A priest without a church.
A tennis player without a racquet.
A poet with no words.
A doctor with no patients.
A world without peace and love.





Bully Bully

It never occurred to me
to bring a gun or knife
to school and start randomly
attacking my fellow students
but I was bullied from
the sixth grade through
the eleventh grade by
the fellow who wound up
being captain of the
high school football team.
He enlisted the help of others
they taunted me
made up songs about me
spread rumors about me.
It was an awful time.


Coffee on my lips in the morning

turns me on like my lover does
when she kisses me. My coffee is sweet
like my lover's lips; stevia and her saliva
seeming to have much in common.




She still sleeps while I am wide awake

at 3 a.m. having woke the dogs and cats
myself drinking a cup of coffee and anticipating
finishing the book that I am reading. The pig
has taken over on the animal farm.



The weather around here is weird

we have the heat on in mid April
my love had to bring her seedlings
in to the kitchen and I had to gather
up my cats and bring them in from
the cold. Kobain wasn't too happy
about it. He sits by the door anticipating
the moment that he can slip back out
to his precious outdoors. Sometimes,
animals, like people, do not know that
you are acting in their best interest.




I will never superannuate.
I didn't put in the time
was never able to do the
nine to five thing, but I have
no regrets; somehow things
keep working out for me
and I bet they will continue
to unless as the late great
Jim Morrison said, "the whole
shit house goes up in flames."




One minute I was twelve

basketball and tennis being
the most important things
in my life and the next I was
fifty seven and love and poetry
were what most consumed me.
How my life has so far passed me
in the blink of an eye I cannot
tell you, but I will tell you that
each day I grow older the more
I see how precious life is
the greatest gift that we have
been given.


Will the knacker come for your body
as angels claim your soul?



Your poetry is soporific.
Your smile that of the devil.
You are an imaginary being
who I create for use in this
poem.



Your poetry is soporific.
Your smile that of the devil.
You are an imaginary being
who I create for use in this
poem.


Let there be sun

The sun only interrupts
my progress for a short while
each morning causing me to
close the blinds to my office.
I call it an office; you would
call it a bedroom, though there is
no bed in it, just two desks
one that has my computer monitor
and keyboard on it along with
miscellaneous paperwork, junk
it would look like to the untrained eye
and the other desk has books on it
and, often, when they are inside, my
cats who like it because it is so close
to the window; they sit in the sill
when the window is open. I hear
Penni barking from outside. She likes
to lay on the floor of this office with
our other two dogs, but I think that
that is because I am in here and not
because the window is open at times.






That turtle don't do nothing
but hide underneath rocks. I
can understand that. I used to
hide under rocks myself, not
literally, but figuratively, if I
had done something wrong
or if I was depressed. I didn't
have to be depressed about
something specific, I was generally
depressed about most all of it,
most of what was going on
around me, though the depression
was really in my head. I didn't
know there was a solution so
I just lived with it, trying to kill it
with booze which just made it
worse. It's like when I first went
on the pink pills, I didn't know that the
they caused you to crave soda
and I would drink a two liter bottle
of cola a day, and I became fat and
diabetic. What a mess, but I have
learned to live with that too, sticking
a pin in my finger every day to draw
a little blood and see how much sugar
is in it. It's amazing what you can live
with. It really is.




I think of chocolate Easter bunnies and jelly beans
on Easter and not the birth of Christ.





Duck. Duck. Duck.
See the duck cluck
swimming on the pond.
Cluck. Cluck. Cluck. Duck.





Stillness

Can you give a cracker with strawberry jam
on top of peanut butter to a dog? Can you
give a complete stranger shit, for no reason?
Can you commit treason by just being yourself?
Are you your own worst enemy?
Is there a friend standing in front of me?

There might be more
but then there might
not be any light by Sunday
where in church you are
supposed to get rid of the
bad and bring in the good.



She was very up front about my chances.
She said, "No chance."




I apologize for all my apologies.

In restraints I will not be bound.
Freedom is the sweetest thing
I've ever found.




Alleviation

Do you pray to a different God than me?
Are the food stains on your couch different than mine?



Everything is mostly alright.

I'm the shoulder you lay your head on at night.
I'm the multiple faces that you have come to know so well.
I am bread. I am butter. I am sushi. I am banana bread.
I'm the poet. The father. The grandfather. Your lover.
So bright is our star that we share in the bedroom.
Angels dancing as we lay our heads upon the pillow




Shaking Hands With The Devil

When folks start singing or talking about The Devil
it's out the door I go. Now, I probably didn't run fast
enough and I think it was Gin, and then when I quit
that, Jack Daniels that got me in trouble. The Devil
put me in drunk tanks praying to The Lord to let me
go, I'll never drink again, Dear God, if you'll just get
me out of here. God gets me out and it's to the bar
I soon go.



Good turned to bad

and bad turned to me
that’s what I got for
working my fingers
to the bone, while some
man took everything
I owned talking on the
telephone. I’m at the
homeless shelter covered
in rain. She ran off with the
singer and left the house
to me.


body parts that have human names

I never met a Reynolds who wasn't
a loser and a prick.
I never met a Bush I wouldn't piss on.
Cronins now there's a twin set of balls
I'd like to kick.
And to think these people bullyed me
when I was a kid.



my love is your love
is our love is our love
big enough for everybody
who we pray for at night?



I am sucking on my last bit of Easter Candy,
a Blow Pop. They are not my favorite; that's
why it is being consumed last. They can't be
good for your teeth, which reminds me I got
to call The Dentist.



Ain't got time for your pot of gold

I can chew enthusiastically on a good tasting piece
of gum. I can smile while you ride the roller coaster,
I'll never step foot on one, and I will never get on
a skateboard, or ski. I don't like bowling. Ain't got
time for gollf. Can't play tennis cuz I got a fake hip.
Can't run long distance, neither; oh well I set the
school record in The Mile and The Two Mile in high school.



They're trying to sell their hats
and things you'd never have thought
they would part with but the economy
put your grandmother's car in some
man's truck who answered your ad
in Craig's List.




I just looked at some Braves season tickets.
I can't afford them.



I like grooving the moon right before the sun rises
having already slept eight hours for the night. I used
to go down bout the time I now get up. Funny, how
life is that way...changes and all from day to day.



She always has a date, but
she doesn't have a man
who will stand by her day
after day.




Bad

My girlfriend tells me that marijuana is
bad for me. Ketchup is bad for you. Ice cream
is bad for you. Fried foods are bad for you.
The government is bad for you. The CIA is bad
for you. The military is bad for you. War is bad
for you.




That would be so beautiful

If I could mime like a mime.
If I could clown like a clown.
If I could tie my shoes, while
sitting down.
If I could walk on a cloud.
If I could not scream out loud
at every wrong that I see in
the world.
If I could look in your eye,
and tell you why I love you,
then that would be so beautiful.



Do you eat from the buffet?

Endless trips back and forth
plate full again, fattening your
figure. You'll work out, tomorrow
you say, but tomorrow becomes
today and that's the way it goes.



Listening to traffic, not caught
in the traffic, mercifully.
I sip on my cup of tea,
and eat my egg with flour tortilla.

Dear Mr. Fantasy I am happy
to see the day, just like I was
happy, last night, to see the moon.



This guy on the radio just referred to
another fellow as, "The worst kind of
racist." What is the best kind of racist?
Is there such a thing?



Give me love

Give me love.
Give me sympathy.
Don't make me get down
on my knees when I have
done you wrong.
Listen to my words.
Heed my song.
I know what's right.
I know what's wrong.
I love you in the moonlight.
I love you in the day.
It's alright.
It's alright.




If they want more of you
and less of me are we going
to let them get their way,
or convince the masses that our way
is the only way to do?
I hope not. I hope that we
would stay true, and I don't
mean act stupid, but originality
sometimes takes awhile to catch on.
So play your bass and talk you song
and when you signal to me, I will
come on down.



Take another sip, brother
you know you don't have to think.
Take another sip, brother
you don't have to sink into
the abyss, but you will, and
there will be no one there to
hold you, just a bunch of folks
to open your wallet and take
everything you got and then
kick you out on the street.



I was so not into being a spectator of any sorts to sports
for such a long time, but over the past few years, I have
started listening to The Braves on the radio and going to
games. I go to The Hawks and have been watching their
playoff games in bars about town...Mexico Lindo...to be
specific. Their food is amazing, and the beverages look
tasty. I'm going to try and book me and Alexander and the
guys there sometime soon. Funny thing: I'm looking forward
to the NFL draft. I'm curious where Manzel will go. There
are wars out there, pollution, sexism and all of that and I
am worried about footbal. What's wrong with me? What a
moron!




The guy on the radio said I could cancel
at any time, so I canceled him right then
by turning off my radio.



Nowhere. Doing nothing.
But I got a smile on my face.
I'm not in the rat race.




The Heisman Trophy winning FSU quarterback
was caught stealing crab legs at The Publix.

11:30 Update: A source inside Florida
State's program says that Winston will be fined $30, required to do community service, and will be suspended from the baseball team.

11:35 Update: The Leon County Sheriff's Office will hold a 2 p.m. press conference concerning Jameis Winston.

A press conference about stolen crab legs! What a hoot! What a way for a talented athlete to make an ass of himself. What was this guy thinking?

Wow, a $30 dollar fine. Can I pay $30 on my faillure to yield ticket when I
go to court on June 5 at 8 a.m. What a sorry boot in the ass this accident was.
I pulled in front of a pastor, put a small, small scratch on his bumper and he called the cops cuz he wants a new bumper. A man of God and all that...




I'd like to delve into
her madness, but I
can't anymore.







Tuesday, April 1, 2014

March 2014 K Poems



A closed door means nothing

to these cats. They push their
way in at night; you have to
keep the door closed tight
if you want you and your partner
to get some sleep at night.


Don’t preach do

Long hair is where it’s at
and not being fat; being
kind to those around you,
a smile on your face and
in your heart is the place
you ought to be if you are me.



Did you see Jennifer Lawrence's dress
that she wore on the red carpet? There
is a war in Syria, there is a war in the
Ukrain, there are hungry, hungover, tired
and cold people standing right in front
of us, but all we care about is Jen's dress.

(Thanks to my buddy Maggot for inspiring this one).


You know what I mean?

We need space. More space. Is there
enough space in outer space for all
our stuff? I'm talking about stuff like
George Carlin used to talk about stuff.
Do you know what I'm saying? Do you
catch my drift?




Will Mother Mary Come To Me?

Bless me father, for I have sinned
it has been 38 years since my last confession.
I have lied. I have stolen. I have not followed
the rules and regulations of The Roman Catholic Church.
Is there a Hell, father; am I headed there,
or is there really a purgatory where my soul
will dwell until you are ready for me?
Guide me, father, in thought word and action.
Thy will be done, not mine.




I had a good idea

but I lost it. That
poem will never
be seen, it will never be heard,
it will never be written.
Tears will never be shed
over it. A smile will not
occur. A laugh will not
happen. I will not cause
anyone to think, to blink
to say why this is a great
poem or this poem is awful.
An opportunity has been missed.
I almost kissed the blarney stone
but I didn’t.




Rattle/Envy

Morisson and Pretti Penni don't know
that Dylan is being treated for
a possible urinary tract infection.
It may be what causes him to pee
on the hallway carpet
and piss the lady of the house off.
Morisson and Pretti Penni think that
Dylan is getting extra food.
They don''t see the little white pill
that is tucked within the bite of
cheesecake or peanut butter or potato
and they probably wouldn't care if they did.



Rattle/Lord, I thank you for

the birds chirping and the blossoms
bursting out on the trees. I thank you
for this warm day at hand. I thank you
for the land that I live on, the bed on
which I sleep. I thank you for these dogs,
whom I'm about to feed, the cats who
have already eaten and have gone back
outside. I thank you for my turtles and for
our bird. I thank you for my family and my
friends and for the love of my life who still
sleeps. Lord, I thank you for all that you
have given me and for all that you have let
me not want. Guide me, Lord, in thought,
word and action. Amen.







Rattle/By the sea, by the sea

oh how I wish that I were
by the sea; but I'm not.
I am sitting at my desk
reading and writing, not
at the same time of course
but like I do in the mornings:
I read until a poem, or two,
comes to me. No sand, just
a dog and cat hair infested
carpet at my feet.



Rattle/I am wrong in both situations

She doesn’t eat canned goods.
pushes her food onto her fork
with her finger. My father used to
backhand me across the face
when I did something wrong
at the table and she gives me
an eat shit look when I tell her
that she shouldn’t put her hands on
her food. I am wrong in both situations
caught in purgatory, I guess,
that strange place between Heaven
and Hell.


Rattle/Letting my freak flag fly

I avoid scrums. I don’t like the feeling
that I might be poleaxed at any time.
I hope this is not abstruse to you; perhaps
you are a minion to the herd. I don’t feel
sorry for you. You are the norm. I don’t
wear ties, or punch a time clock. I used
to try to punch out people in bars. I used
to want to be a superstar. Now I am normal.
Not like you, but like you. I like you.
 I avoid standing in line. I avoid traffic.
I avoid shopping for bananas on Sunday
after church has been let out. Almost cut
my hair. But I didn’t.



The cats were at the door at five thirty am
wanting inside. It was lightly raining out.
The grey cat was a bit wet. The black cat
was dry. I toweled off the wet cat, and fed
them both their morning snack of wet cat food.
The grey cat is now in the opened window
in my office, staring through the screen. He
wants out, again, I am sure.


Rattle/Dogs

They trust me to clean their eyes.
They love for me to pet them.
They get excited when I am about to feed them.
They sleep a lot.
They love to walk.
They love my cats.
They jump up to the stove to see if there is any
food they can steal when I am not in the kitchen.
They bark when strangers are about our home.
They pee on the grass.
One of them has peed on the hallway carpet.
They poop on the grass.
I love them so.




Rising from the dead

In the seven years that I have had her
I have never seen this turtle sleep,
but I was wide awake at 2 a.m. and
here at three a.m. I glance over at her
and she is either dead or asleep and I
know that she is supposed to out live
me so I figure that she is sleeping and
not dead. There she is moving now. She
heard me writing about her and awoke.
The centrifugal eye/TV dinners

By allowing our cats to go outside
for the first time in six years
we have gained our kitchen table back
which greatly pleases my love and I.
Before they could go outside
to roam the property, climb trees,
and explore the woods behind the house
the cats would sit on the table
staring out the windows that are adjacent
to the space where we used to eat.
Our first meal, with the cats gone, was
a celebration: yeah, no cats to compete
with us for our breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
My love hates eating on the couch
in the living room with the tv on.




The Centrifugal Eye/Bless Me Father

I don’t know why I mostly only remember the bad things about my father: him telling me that I would never add up to much, him telling me that I would never make it as a writer, him telling me, “I told your mother how old I’d be when I had ya,” implying that he had not wanted me to be born, that he didn’t want children, that only my mother did. “Don’t look at me like that,” was another one my father used to throw at me. How the fuck was I supposed to look at him when he was yelling at me at the top of his lungs in his thick Irish brogue? You were abused as a child, a therapist once said to me. When I saw the movie, “The Boxer,” which is in large part about the Irish, I understood where my father was coming from. He was a product of his environment. Dad, I have added up to much. I am, and have always been, a great father. I am “making” it as a writer, though it doesn’t, yet, pay the bills. Writing is my passion in life. It is what I live for along with the kids, the grand kids, the love of my life, and my pets. I’ll see you in heaven, my father.




Diana May-Waldman MY two cents--You are a GREAT father. You are an awesome friend. You are loved by the wonderful Joan as your partner. You are an incredible writer---you are aware, alive, brilliant and true to yourself...and because you are true to yourself you are able to be true to everyone around you. Your success as a writer, father, lover and friend is not measured by money....your wealth comes from you being a better man  That my friend is your truth and your wisdom.


Centrifugal Eye?/Open Book

Various intellectuals and homeless folk
gathered at the bookstore coffee shop,
until it closed, not to say that there were
not intellectuals among the homeless.
I worked behind the counter at the coffee
shop and some among the intellectuals
and homeless got their coffee for free
from me. I did not discriminate against
either group. I did discriminate against
the mean corporation that owned the
bookstore and caused management
to be mean as rats fighting for little bits
of cheese. My manager was obviously
under a lot of pressure, often threatening
to fire me if I did not step up in performance
of a specific function. You know how every
store in America wants you to sign up for
their card and have it swiped so they can
keep an eye on you? Well, we had one of
those cards, too. And, mostly I forgot to
ask for it.







Centrifugal Eye/Prostitution

I don’t know what pubic hairs were doing in the jar
with the three dollars’ worth of pennies that I counted
into penny rolls, this morning; but they were there.
Is there some connection between sex and money
that I don’t know about, outside of hookers and johns?




I think I saw a ghost

Something white just ran off into the woods behind the property.
Was it a skunk, the tail of a deer(is a deer’s tail white?); a ghost
that Pretti Penni and I scared off as she foraged for a place to make her morning deposit. Usually she drops in the edge of the
woods and not on the lawn where I would have to pick it up, and
for this I am thankful.


Anyone like you

I have tasted green bologna sandwiches
in jail cells and mental institutions. I
have tasted the love of beautiful women.
I have nearly been straight A in my studies
and I have flunked miserably at them, too.
I have ridden in hot cars, walked, and rode
the buses and trains. I have been depressed.
I have been ecstatic, but I have never met
anyone like you.




A pulpit to read from

I was a bit of a day dreamer in class
and church as a child, and I have trouble
paying attention to people on a pulpit
these days. My mind tends to wander
imagining myself up on that pulpit reading
my poems to a wide audience that never
appears when I do have a pulpit to read from.




The love of my life is makin' bacon

and potatoes with onions, which is
her morning specialty. Usually, I fix
my own breakfast, a couple of eggs
rolled in tortilla with some mayonnaise
or a bowl of cheerios topped with a
banana. I have been out of milk,
recently, so I have taken to using
the half and half that I pour in my
coffee in my cheerios and I find it
pleasant. I hear plates rattling in the
kitchen, now, which means that my
love will momentarily be calling for
me to come eat. When a man finds
a woman who loves to cook and who
loves to cook for him, it is among many
other great reasons to not let her go.




In Rwanda in 1994, the Hutus were not
very nice to the Tutsis, slaughtering over
a million of them mainly with machetes.
How The Lord above can allow such things
to happen is beyond me, though I know
that we have been told that, among other
things, that man has been given free will.
Free will should not mean "conflict" in Vietnam.
It should not mean "peacekeeping" in Afghanistan,
or Iraq. Boy George once sang, "War, war
is stupid," and I agree with him.



I wonder where my cats go

when it rains and they are
not on the carport, like they
were this morning when I
woke. They stay close to the
back door in the morning
when they have spent the
night out so that they can
come in and receive their
morning snack of wet cat food.
Why, there is Jaggar, my black cat
at my feet rubbing on my leg.
He is smart enough to not be
near the rain at all.





Of the rain and mice and rats

I’m not going to stand at the door
and look stupid while Kobain refuses
to come in from the rain. He is wet
but I will not dry him off until I am
sure that he is not going to wander
out into the rain again. Kobain is
the more adventurous of my cats.
Jaggar, my other cat, is inside and
has been inside since the rain started.
Jaggar, obviously, doesn’t like to get wet.
My love says that she has seen Kobain
climb trees and sit in them watching
birds. I have never seen such. At one
house we lived in, one where I would
set traps to catch large mice, maybe
they were rats, Kobain and Jaggar
would both bring me gifts of mice, or
rats, that they had captured and killed.
I know that their intention was good,
but it was a rather gross experience
for me. I am glad that there are no mice,
or rats, around the home we currently
are living in.





Raise your beer glasses tall

tis the day to celebrate The Irish
I'll join you with a cup of milk
or cola, for don't you know
I inherited the gene. Me uncle
was a drunk and my grandfather
before him; the sickness skipped
my mother and father but landed
straight on me.




Wake up from sleep
go to my website;
it's alright: bunch of
hits, bunch of books
sold.

And they arrive on the scene with
their blue lights flashing. The criminals
are gone, and so nearly is a little old
Vietnamese man, who had survived
The Vietnam War, but might not survive
the beating he just got from two young kids
who just robbed five dollars and seventeen
candy bars from his store.



Not quite right

We were celebrities for the night
tasting the limousines and the bright lights
and then I woke up and realized
that I had not gotten that right.


Do you want Mary to appear to you?

Everything is hers.
And everything is mine.
And everything is yours
just let me tell you how:
be good to your family,
your friends, your neighbors
and strangers on the street.



Everbody Works at Wal-mart

Everybody
works at Wal-mart
and they drink
Coca Colas
while watching
American Idol.

Mikel K



You can only do what you can do


I love shooting ranges and guns.
Guns don't kill people. People kill people.
Given that they have killed the elephant
for his tusks, left him bleeding and dying;
they killed the Indians for their land, and
they’re probably still killing us but we don’t
know who what where when how or why?






The Fucks

The fucks were a family of corporations.
The only thing that they had in common
was fucking folks. You know who they are.
I know who they are. And yet we let them
function, support them, no less. What is
wrong with me? What is wrong with you?





Chicks and beer

Chicks and whiskey.
Man, theeeeere ain’t
nothing like chicks
and beer. I like bowling.
I like bowling while
drinking beer. Hell,
I’d play Bingo if I could
drink me some beer. I
don’t drink and drive like
I used to. I don’t sleep
with women in black outs
no more. I’m a civilized
gentleman, and I care about you.





Dead flea, or was it an ant

between my fingers, the
reincarnation of Gandhi
and I just squished him to death.




Lonely rooms

and empty spaces.
See the faces stare.






submitted/Sometimes, I don't feel like searching

for something, like my keys, or my cell phone.
You can call the phone, but you can't call the keys
so no doors will get open, or locked, until you
locate them. Sometimes, I don't feel like searching
for something, like the meaning to life. There is
no meaning and there is complete meaning
all at once, just like there is Heaven and Hell
and you can live whichever one of them that you choose.



Cuz I’ve Found It

It’s a weird world and I’ve been weird
every once in a while myself while wandering
about the planet looking for love. I used to
get drunk and look for it. I went to meetings
and I looked for it. I’m 53 years old and I
ain’t looking no more.



From mammy to pappy with love

Can you call things up? And then make them do
special things like you do? Can you, dear?


Because she was lightening

and I was thunder; all these
great things were supposed
to come out. And many of them
did. But, in the end, turned out
we were just ordinary people
and not The Queen and The King
of The Hill.



Son,

When you're ride is over
you got to get on off the bus.
You got your whole life in front of you
don't squander time being a bum;
and that writer thing, I don't think
you have it in you.

Dad




Did you eat that last slice of pizza?
Should I do the dishes before you
get home?
I love you. What's for dinner? Oh yeah,
those spring rolls you left out. That will
be a tasty dinner. You are so amazing.
We're going to The Margaret Mitchell
house tonight. It is the 40th anniversary
of something. What an amazing day!
What an amazing life!!



Impecunious having little or no money

Subterranean avuncular; impecunious
when they were above ground, trod upon
by catatonic kittens, when down under.
I don’t know why. I wish that I was more
waifish as I attend to them. The boss could
never catch me sleeping near the graves.
His riding lawnmower would always wake
me and I’d grab a rake or shovel and act like
I had been working all the time. I’m going to
catch him, I heard him say to another guy.
When school got closer, and the hangovers
got worse I just wandered away from the job.
That poor bastard probably died working there.



I dont feel like looking
in the mirror, right now.
I don’t want to be reminded
that I am not what I am

supposed to be.