Thursday, February 26, 2015

Why Poetry? (An Addict's Confession)

Why poetry? 
Why not other short stories or novels or plays? 
Why poetry?

A poem can be as long as centuries of lives,
or as short as a single breath,

it can be throwing you into the deep end of realism,
or it can be the relaxation of muscles
because you know how to swim in it's waters,

it can be images of vast spaces of galaxies and stars and nothingness,
or it can be exploding kaleidoscopic orgasmic everything.

Why poetry?

It can be slower than the soft rain dribbling
and trailing down your windshield on a cold autumn day.

It can be faster than the nearly
forgotten dream bringing a grin to your face.

Why poetry? 
Short stories and novels are truest works of literary wit and wonder - 
they can show the tiniest cracks on the facade of the perfect life.

Ahh, yes, that is true for those, but poetry can do that and so much more -
poetry has the ability
to make the loneliest man dance in a hall with strangers,
to make souvenirs of the memories of the first kiss
with the girl who had cherry lip gloss on her lips,
to make late-night vulgar bodily seances
to the boy who could make his fingers dance in just the right spots
that would make your body, your lips,
your fingers and toes quiver and tingle
with excitement and nervousness
and lust.

Poetry may be as old as dirt, and my not as be as prominent
as your King
or your Meyer
or your James,
but every few years, some poem, some person comes along and shakes things up;

Whispering songs about themselves,
giving great barbaric yawps,
comparing love to shrubbery,
retelling stories of wars and attacks,
telling us how the greatest minds of generations were hungry, mad, and naked...

Why poetry?

Because everyday you go through life
breathing in harshness, sadness, grim realities...

but you breathe out bittersweet poetry,
and that's
my
drug.


Sunday, February 15, 2015

Advice from Strangers

Just as everyone asks the 100 year old men and women
how they lived for so long,
I ask the every man and woman
how they survived depression,
madness, thoughts of anger and
utter despair.

Raw eggs, a life away from sugar and nicotine,
no sex since the 20's -
will the old say,

Long walks, staring off into sunsets and counting stars,
hearing the truth in the music and seeing the lies in life -
will the survivors say.

Live and love yourself, they'll all say,
jump on the last train, or plane, or bus to anywhere,
find out where the secrets of the big cities
breathe, sleep, fuck, and play,

It isn't about sitting back, and looking in the past,
you've got to lift your head up,
get up out of the gutters where you stare at the stars,
and take the knife out of your hands,
put the pills and drink down,
and start walking -

Move to a new town,
Meet new friends,
Eat new foods,
Love someone new.

The whole point isn't to stare into the past
to divine great moments of the future,
it isn't the point to relive painful moments of our lives,
flogging ourselves with barbs from breakups.

How did you live,
when you were at life's peak,
when it was at it's worst,
I'll ask -

We opened our eyes, and finally
learned to live,
they'll say.


Tuesday, February 10, 2015

Cosmic Intentions

I can not imagine a world without you,
it would be dark and lonely.
I would not want to live in such a place -
for you are not just some star in the heavens,
you are my sun,
with which you give me life.

How could I not fall for her -
a love of brun and noir,
for when the sun shines
through her hair -
passions, intensity,
fire and smoke burn through,
raven's wings breathe in.

It's not fair, a lover so far away,
because of you my demons remain at bay,
I've given offering of sanity and age
but no matter how close I get,
you seem to stay close, but too far away.

I can not imagine a world without you,
it would be cold and lifeless.
I would not build a house or home there -
for you are not just some girl on this earth,
you are my everything,
with which I measure my heartbeat.


Friday, February 6, 2015

A Siren Against the Storm

And there we were,
standing only feet apart,
but it felt like you were
oceans away, with only
a little ferry of our love
to keep our islands afloat.

When you turned & walked
away, every levee & dam
broke, spilling over my
guards, tearing down my
walls, washing my
heart away.