Wednesday, January 27, 2016

The Victim

So sure you're the victim
You push and push
Obnoxious
Cruel
Telling everyone that
They are victimizing you.

They leave angered
They leave in disdain

You are sure that proves -- something

The FBI comes and you defend yourself.

Now you are dead.

Friday, January 22, 2016

Buddha Wants Us

The Buddha wants us to
The Buddha wants us to
See the people
See them
In the tenderloin
And let go of our stories

Now.
See them.
Homeless or
Drug addicted or
Drunk drunk drunk and

They are our sisters
They are our brothers
They are in such pain how
Can we pass them and
Not see.
Not see.

The Buddha wants us to
Let go -------- of delusion
They are not different
They are like us
Can you hope looking at them?
Neither -- can they.

Find it.
Find it for them.
See them
Exactly as
They are
There is hope -- hope

Corn Dog Days

 
Back to my childlike
Simple days.
No worries just eat
Oh! Such a gift
A dog and
Corn! bread and
Stick-like love.
It's back to my childlike
Simple days
Simple love
Missing you
Corn dog
Missing you
And you

Thursday, January 21, 2016

A Poem For Drinkers

Sometimes when drinking it goes awry
And you can just see that there is not a point,
That if you keep drinking it will acrid and
Weird sober and maybe hangoverish while still drinking.

Other times it is cool -- drink for drink
Take me to soft cushy happy drunk
And I like it, it is why I have been drinking
And I will have no complaint.

But -- nicely, and occasionally (but) rarely
There are times that start out to be the first
And quite to my (your) (our) surprise
Sneak over to it is ok after all.

I like that.
It is out of focus
The pain is muted
And I can not complain

Friday, January 15, 2016

Oh it hurts so

When people I care for yo
Show up at my bar though
I do not expect them
And they tell me how much they love
Seeing myself though
And then when they go to
The next bar and
They do not ask me to go
And -- I feel like nothing yo.
I feel like nothing yo.
I am nothing.
I am exactly nothing
To them.
I do not matter.
At all.
Truth.
I die.

Saturday, January 9, 2016

Crush the Smart Girl

Some times I crush.
Someone is smart
And creative and
Blond and
Nice and
Pretty and
I crush on all of that, but --
I don't expect that --
They will also find that --
I am attractive in
The least.
Lonely is.

Lonely Self

Here's the thing.
When I/you admire someone
It seems like a connection,
But it is not.
It is not.
Liking them is not them liking me
(Or you) and thinking it is
Is what leads us to creepy stalking.
So.
I like her. (Won't name her.)
But. I will not think, (pretty sure not),
That she likes me.
One does not imply the other.
That is sad.
I really like her.
I will just
Lonely be.I will just
Lonely be.

Oh. Such fear

I see that she wants to
Risk and talk to.
I want to too.
But if she doesn't dare
I can not give to her
Her boldness
Her balls
I want to, but
My heart
Is not her heart.
She has to stand up.
If she doesn't will,
Then I will not will
Sorry. She lacks.

Your Annoying Self

Someone told her that
That poem was about her
And push and pull
She sends someone
She wants to see
The poem about her.
No. Ask for yourself
Don't send emissaries.
I don't care enough about
Your annoying self
To gift you poem.

Chinese Girl

Walks with grandpa
He is to her
As she is to him
Family.
And I yearn.

Loud

Loud loud woman in the bar
Woooooohhhttttttt!
Fuckin everything is exciting
Made a shuffle board play.
Saw a scene on TV
Someone walks in the door.
Just
Shut
The
Fuck
Up.
But.
Something in me
Wants
To take her.

Friday, January 8, 2016

Drunk Time

There is a thing, a drinking thing
Where -- as you drink more and feel --
The bliss that grows, it is pretty nice.

I don't mean the other thing where
The more drinking makes more feeling
Sober (though drunk test would bely).

I mean the happy thing. The thing that
Happens sometimes. The thing that makes
Us at such risk for alcoholism, (at such risk).

I guess all of this is to say that I
Like this thing and wish that it were the
Thing that always showed up when I drank.

Wednesday, January 6, 2016

Out of Place

Much homesickness
Suddenly and unexpectedly
Guts me
Guts me
Missing what?
Scrub?
Brush?
Mexican food?
People who
Share my experience?

That's it.
I think I miss my life
Even though I
Do not want
To leave here.
I want and
Do not want
All now.

Tuesday, January 5, 2016

There Are Places

There are places
That I show up
Only when drunk.
Like a combination
Taco Bell and KFC.

They do not judge.
They accept me.
They know that I only
Show up when I am drunk
And they welcome me.
They treat me like a human being
And I love them.
I love them.

Sometimes I See

Sometimes my admiration
Of a woman is flavoured by
My realization that, although
They pretend to not know
That I am looking at them,
They know.

I met a guy

He was a worker
Low level
Worked for the building – Logan
Instead of the businesses
In the building
Sweeping the sidewalk
A stand up guy.
A stand up guy.

Sometimes

Sometimes I see people
That are culturally similar
So they imagine that
They should be together
And I hope that
Their worldview
Is broad enough
That they can see that
It is possible too
Serve themselves.