Poems: 180222 - February 18th, 2022

080222A
----------- 

The simplest answers
are usually lies 
told in the same tone
as supermarket prices
and the toll paid
at the gas pumps. 

You blame yourself 
for the varieties of pain
and pleasure
continually falling short 
from being interesting 
or satisfying. 

Leaves you wanting 
for something 
in the very middle 
among the uncertainty 
coming from everything 
you cannot have. 

Life as a series 
that someone made up
from short duration bits
and random pieces 
stuck to each other 
in various ways 
only to be broken apart. 

Mostly it is wasted 
in that abyss of difference 
coming between 
what you can look for 
and what you can find 
keeps you looking. 

That is the gaze 
that looks out 
into early morning air
feeling a deep sense
of total devastation 
but nothing changed. 

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

080222B
------------- 

All that glitter
that was never toxic
beautiful jewels
that everyone could have 
if they wanted. 

Lucy was in the sky
with her diamonds 
and as imperfect as it was
it was so much better
than perfection. 

We incessantly mourn
what we could have done
in another time 
when so much less 
was actually forbidden. 

We are sealed in 
to a growing certainty 
surrounding together
the way glass surrounds 
preserves in jars. 

Immersed in something
the labels tell us
is pure blend 
happiness immersion
into which we weep. 

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

090222A
------------ 

In dark times 
as always seem 
darkened up 
your blank surfaces 
where every brush thrives
as a brush with death 
some way or other 
and every one has 
a particular tooth
with characteristic bite
being used and using
rending and tearing
at the colour flesh
of whatever was
that you were not 
thinking but then 
something being 
used anyway.

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

090222B
----------- 

I had wanted you 
to really exist 
the way sweetness exists
in a coffee cup. 

For a little while 
interrupting the bitter 
dark tastes 
that we consume. 

There is a despair 
comes from everything 
and sweet that is kept 
away from our each.

I tried to imagine 
differing worlds 
where there is sweetness 
conquers the bitter. 

Interruption came 
quick as a thought
sent news of sweetness
been taken.  

The cup looked full 
but now emptied 
left bitter strains
stained memories. 

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

090222C
----------- 

We gutter dregs
sometimes stare emptied
into symbolic gloss
vacant skies. 

Push up to imagining 
someone looks down on
as we hallucinate 
mythic bird flights. 

Reminded perpetually 
our gratuitous existence
being expensive 
and barely tolerated. 

Made no longer able
to afford ourselves 
and no one investing 
in marginal skill sets. 

If there was a trial 
there was no defence 
for cherishing 
the wrong convictions. 

We read histories 
as improbable fictions 
that we would have loved 
to have lived in. 

I dare a look at you 
across barbed wire fence
coiled separations 
invisibly keeping apart. 

A richly adorned scene 
of self appointed 
playground monitors 
blowing their whistles.

Great care is taken 
to fully assure 
we never dare inhabit 
the same spaces. 

Our parades continue 
in opposite directions
along with clowns
lions, tigers and bears. 

No one would give us
half a fighting chance 
at having a good time
anywhere interesting. 

Do you know anyone
who can get us in 
and I no longer know
anyone goes that way. 

The slashed at feel 
of a vast rift
never heals across
tens of millions of years.

Digging something up
wherever it fell 
after a dance number 
the band played. 

You came to me 
from the same lies 
you told others 
so I sent you back. 

That made me nostalgic 
for what it feels like
to cross over 
strands of barbed wire. 

It could make us believe
that we can find love 
instead of class structure 
dividing up the meat. 

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

120222A
----------- 

Those of us 
who still are 
and in the resistance 
movements gone
end up to
being and changed
out nothingness. 

Attendees 
at drinking academies
joined brotherhoods
the holy orders
of sacred bottles 
then graduate 
to knowing no one. 

Some got married 
as a popular means
inclusive of absolution 
for various pleasures
disguised as sins 
repeated treadmill days
ancestral litanies. 

Some became vague
turning relic 
saints of memory
seems larger than life 
amid uncertainties 
as to how they were
and became martyred. 

Over and over 
crimson and clover
ghosts out
from dead jukeboxes
trying to rolf 
the world back 
to a bygone era.

We don't really like
being here and now
doing nothing really
interesting and done 
crammed into stagnant 
nooks of spacetime
repeatedly prodded.  

We are clearly told
the healthy people
all like it well enough
without complaints 
craving their paleo 
porn scenes in white
washed bedrooms.
 
----------------------- 

140222A
----------------- 

Social street theatre
grabs meanings 
from a grab bag life
taking the wraps off
from disappointments. 

Exposing the insides
as unappealing as is
visceral shots 
striking their hard 
on contentions. 

You still believe 
prizes to be won
but hell is cheap 
as to prizes 
and heaven is worse. 

Much worse 
to be expected 
from crowds formed 
to tear off 
and to condemn. 

Trash spouts 
overflow the gutter
mind trapped 
in current affair 
rapid effluence. 

We are seeps 
through the cracks
pressed crumble
suffering along 
damp feelings. 

Wipe the tears 
before you are wiped
being identified
by counter measures
to emotional insurgency.

They gave sackcloth
when I was longings
for perfect silk 
because they knew
what I really wanted. 

What we play 
is complicated games
on multiple levels 
taking us deep in
to perfect unhappiness.

I never liked 
the company 
so I sleep alone 
covered by illusions
that chant freedom. 

The protests 
opposing violations 
against any label 
personal taste 
and candied preference. 

Pleasantries exchanged
unpleasant times
in unpleasant ways 
some hopeful to get
out of dilly dally. 

Shattered 
is the newest style 
turned pop love
life categories
of delivered rush. 

The crush of it
and the rush of it 
into a tumble 
past the point of into 
free fall conditions. 

We are going down 
and no telling 
how far that goes
but whatever comes up
is hollow and empty. 

I thought I found you
somewhere deep 
but I was far too late 
so I continue  
collecting spent shells. 

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

170222A
------------

Never looked 
into the telephone book
in a dozen years 
for anyone personal. 

The yellow covers 
urging cautious dialing 
and paranoia always
listening in. 

They don't deliver
here anymore 
to old notes 
and deleted lines. 

The sort of corpse 
that bought it 
a long time ago 
on verge of ivories.

Easy to be ghosted
being a vacancy 
never filled 
but always looking. 

Let your fingers 
do the walking 
with nowhere to go 
but gone too far. 

No way to get back 
but you knew that 
in every try
many years ago. 

I remember chasing 
each illusion 
on a dial up 
to someone special. 

I am still all alone
as a worn out finger
hits a key
that open no doors. 

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