Poems: 130921 - September 13th, 2021

080921F
----------- 

Making a difference 
something different 
making something 
to take your mind off 
and out the trash. 

Not out of the trash
but out the trash
always the same 
as the others do
recycling each other. 

So many ways 
to getting used up 
and you do feel used
in the ugliest ways
in between the slack. 

Chop chop chop 
the same old block
heading out 
and its gone on a roll 
chip off a block. 

Not the same 
as the sad old block 
once around gone
back again to chip
at something. 

Whittled away 
the passing hours 
after a close shave 
thousand cuts 
of being cut away. 

Crowds of long knives
looking for their beast 
grabbing the horn
slicing at roots 
undercutting meanings. 

Another new rendering 
dicing spirit 
discarding flesh 
cooking something up 
as common fare. 

Clean off your plate 
leaving nothing 
left chance
gone spoiled 
and turned bitter. 

It is on the menu 
prix fixe [pree fiks] 
specials of the day
only thing left
anyone can order. 

You have to love it 
or it leaves you 
wanting everything
that was taken off 
the common markets. 

Nothing is solid 
everything flows 
melting your Hamlet
and dissolving Ophelia
where the curtain falls. 

You've gone dark 
after breaking everything 
that forms your record 
smallest audience
on the longest run. 

Such a bloody shame 
they never give medals
for anything like that
but best served cold 
and without warmth. 

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090921A
------------ 

Wasn't reaching 
for the sky 
and didn't want 
anyone's crown. 

Just wanted 
a little of me 
and a little of you
being special. 

Abdicates nothing 
and fall is angel wings
spread all the way 
across every field. 

Didn't want to see 
past little things
that sparkled 
bird's eye view. 

Tired of everyone 
who makes love 
shallow and complicated
all at the same time. 

Never wanted 
to tangle up 
in any cum and go
sporty styles. 

Everyone always
tied in something
takes them
its prisoners. 

A mystery 
why so tough 
stretches of time
cashing us in. 

Can't we be free
just a little while
as if we are 
Hollywood's dreams. 

Not much left 
as far as it goes 
but might be 
a little something. 

Never enough 
to get over it 
gets dropped 
same as the rain. 

What is missing 
from the scenery 
marks our trails 
as runaways. 

Can't go back 
and I am afraid 
of being 
far too forward. 

Too easy now
to frighten away 
butterflies and other
delicate things. 

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110921A
----------- 

More of that same
cut off on a line 
scores far edge of all
ends at being torn 
down borders of ever 
more lonely.

Pretty shadows 
scant evidence 
of other worlds 
too far away 
to ever belong 
in anything really. 

There are those 
who never like 
whatever you were
or whatever it is
you became
that you become. 

Judging the book 
by its cover cause
of what was in it 
all taken from it
by the censors
not liking one word. 

Been written out 
of words and time
but they still scribble
rude comments 
on the blanked pages 
of discontent. 

You were in mind 
as something 
of a lovely future 
but it was scrubbed
into a space 
nothing fills. 

Things to do 
sometimes get done
but always 
doing something 
seems everything 
makes for lonelier. 

What next 
from another list
of no one wants
trying to score 
something luckier 
than a bad ending.

----------------------   

120921A
-----------  

I seem to have saved 
something 
but it was no more
than all the tears 
that I had delayed
and put off 
to being cried later. 

They say peace 
is the illusion 
cleaved to 
by simple minds 
given another fix
that lasts them 
for a little while.

No winnings 
at the rat races 
just another flea 
in the flea circus 
tried to learn 
exchanging tricks
for meals. 

It doesn't go well
and it never did 
when going that way 
takes more out
than it puts in
making it a total  
loss of balance. 

Teeter totter 
on the rock on 
brink of nothing 
days seem 
happened before  
same scream 
that no one hears. 

Just another fool
plays the fool's game
of difference 
left standing outside 
a sell out crowd 
that got in 
on something. 

----------------- 

120921B
----------- 

English got 
is German Gott 
got to have 
some sort of God 
Gott you 
so you can get
some got it 
being begot
and begotten  
in a Word game. 

Birth and death 
in a Word game
about what came
and what went
spaced out between 
the get 
and the got modes
for getting it 
gone out of sight 
and out of mind. 

It's gone 
what you got 
but that's it 
as to the gutter
Götter talk 
Gott and Göttin
so you got in 
now a big Gott
gone Götter
did you ?  

The way it goes
Word game 
and you got some
when you got her
at the get go 
but what you got
will be gone
and for Gott
in for getting 
something else. 

The Word game
sounds alright 
to some on a side
of all the getting
made easy 
easiest forget
kept to give at
up some got
for saken same
and got more. 

---------------- 

120921C
----------- 

Wish it were 
something easier 
as to random pull 
suicide missions
die to something 
even if you don't
come out through 
in a polished box. 

Polished off 
coats of wacks 
waxing Moon
teases laugh at
haven't learned 
the never want rag
might pass over
tawdry romances.

Call it angel 
dread and then
the worst 
is tell you
vulture wings 
squeezed tight 
around your never 
really feel freed. 

Haven't learned 
every new kid 
knows more 
want some
shoddy true between
romance covers
our sordid lives 
craving pillow talks. 

Whisper living 
black out 
the deep gutter 
surveillance
shifting pattern 
break ups 
rapacious conduct
of shock troops. 

Wish we knew 
it all early know 
how find and seek 
show to tell 
the right ones
gone to rim shot
hoop skirts all
in jingle jive. 

Few hunger
the exception 
mostly inclusive 
everyone else
always had it
all same 
whatever thing
was about it. 

Should read 
forbidden texts
between party
lines and other
hard divides
sent as warnings
down insect holes
on thin antennas. 

---------------------   

130921A
------------ 

The barriers 
end up overwhelming 
in the manner of protests 
and police lines 
that no one can cross. 

The revolution 
cancelled repeatedly
during previous iterations 
of wayward moments 
by other generations. 

Shots fired 
into random displays 
crowds mutter 
death threats
at planning departments. 

It is now uncertain 
what moved forward 
and what fell behind 
along the shuffle board
trail of who scored. 

Someone had 
everything we wanted
including sour grapes
squeezed as balls 
under virgin feet. 

Little squirts 
that go as far 
as most things ever do
sharing the common 
categorical boredom. 

There are all of those
now feeling compelled
to stare at their screens 
strictly following 
the sportsmanship. 

Appears quite certain 
we can never meet 
up to anything more
than the bland arts
of insipid ideologies. 

Making something up
that avoids bumping 
against anything  
getting in the way 
of everything else. 

Wave critical flags 
at the bull pens 
past the ruins 
of China shops 
and gored doorways.

A central committee 
labelled us dangerous 
and that is enough
to tear anything apart
before it is together. 

Everything withdraws 
in hasty retreats
from the imperfect 
and casual statements
about non compliance. 

Nothing any more 
the way it was
in the jazzy when
something could 
be purely magical. 

We don't live 
in any possible worlds
down the ways
it used to be 
but grieving nostalgia. 

Someone arranged 
to make us worthless 
raising the prices 
on everything else 
to cannot afford. 

Nowhere to go 
and all the past 
might have been
long closed down
long before us. 

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