Category: Poetry

new pen
new notebook
(cute puppies
stare at me
from the cover
with cute
puppy dog eyes)

I wait…
wait for inspiration…
wait for the flow
tick tock tick tock
inspiration…
…sure arriving
s
l
o
w

invisible men
speak in unison

no longer
in the distance
manipulating
microscopes

the invisible men
are here
contemplating your life

the laugh
always at the ready

the slightest quip
you start shaking
…with laughter

what’s so funny?

“Hi. How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
“That’s good.”
ha ha ha…

tomorrow
I will pursue my dreams,
tomorrow
I will make changes,
do the right thing,
tomorrow
I will get down to business

tomorrow
I will stop all bad habits,
I will meditate,
work toward
mindfulness

the old ladies
who live
on the 1st floor
are silent, quiet

no coughing, no sneezing
no singing, no laughing
no crying, no dancing
nothing,
nothing
but silence

no ringing of the telephone
no cursing, no orating
are they listening to me?
are they listening?

fade
into the ether,
disappear
…dignified…
memories live on…

…that’s
enough.

the door is locked
the phone muted

i’m gonna think about:
the past
the present
the future
you
me

then I’m gonna get
real…fucked…up

dark thoughts
& Kafka dreams
distort my
future,
my history

time floats
suspended,
is it ever
now?

walking down
shallow hallways
painted with grey
despair,

I drew a picture
of a horse & buggy

faint memories
of illusion,
comforting
whispers,
peaceful
scenery

…it was a dream

there was no
horse & buggy

I dreamt
you were here
not there

I was smiling
I was waving
I was screaming:
“everything’s fine!
everything’s fine!
why do you ask?”

empty space
dances
across floorboards,

silent
within shadows,
lurking in corners,
ready to dismantle
defences,
ready
to make
the big comeback,
the big return…
always ready

creating illusions,
a front
for dark secrets
hidden from
smiling faces

torment nourishes
upon fragility
until there is
nothing left

…but to dream…

always to dream

put down that crack pipe
the cop tells Blank Eyes

you don’t think i’ve tried?
Blank Eyes lit the remains
of her dreams

the cop shakes his head
walks away muttering:
i got better things to do
i got better things to do

She walked up to me
at the smoke-filled bar
(cliche) right on time,
I look at her legs
(they were good legs),
she looked me in the eyes
& offered me a drink:
“What will you have?”
I looked at her legs again,
she asked me why I was
acting like a 3rd-rate
Philip Marlowe,
I said because I am a 3rd-rate
Philip Marlowe,
she didn’t know what to say
…so I kissed her