A Sardonic Smile ~ Saturday, 29 February 2020

Some of us actually had good parents, 

on a bad day we got hugs and kisses, 

many times they understood our small needs, 

even when we were bad, they were still kind, 

of course, we knew we were the lucky ones, 

for they loved and accepted no matter, 

unless we brought home bad grades, then they went 

stride for stride to figure out if we need 

any help, a tutor for our studies, 

creating a home where we felt their love, 

treasured as an expression of their joy, 

under their guidance, we became adults, 

active participants in social life, 

living examples of healthy families, 

lessons learned as children help us to win, 

yes, win or learn, but never lose, we earned 

hard won respect from others who saw us 

as soft, sheltered, cared for, understood, loved, 

duty to hard work, overcoming fears, 

generosity to less fortunate 

older people and their children, like us, 

ordinary / extraordinary, 

deliberate interaction with those 

people most in need of some assistance, 

articles of faith in society 

remain our lasting legacy, in truth, 

eventually we made our parents proud, 

no just as their children, but as parents 

that help our own children with their problems, 

solving their difficulties day by day. 

The Catholic Ethic and the Spirit of Alcoholism ~ Saturday, 29 February 2020

Feni drinkers don't have minds of their own, 

every feni drinker bears the same scars, 

no feni drinker dares think for themselves, 

if feni drinkers were intelligent 

departments of health would not need drunk tanks, 

round up my parents, a united front 

in naysaying and permitting freedom, 

not for my brother, of course, the coke head, 

kissed ass so well, he's a millionaire now, 

even if our parents knew, would they care, 

remember your first born, your pride and joy, 

still, getting beaten up by my father, 

demented as it seems, at eleven, 

of course, I was arrested with Ricky, 

not that I was allowed to visit him, 

that was his reason for anger and rage, 

his punches, slaps, and kicks bruised my body, 

at forty-three, he should have known better, 

vengeance is mine, I shall repay, I write 

exactly as I see fit, rest in peace, 

misery loves company, as they say, 

indeed these words say nothing strikingly 

new, violence in my family was love, 

demented as it sounds, they didn't care, 

still, terror never goes away, but hides, 

on a good day, for the pendulum swings, 

from happiness to absolute horror, 

the bruises go away, memories stay, 

haunted by my father, brother, cousin, 

even my mother watching the beatings, 

in her own mind, not calling the police, 

remember, nothing seen, nothing observed, 

only sorrow, lack of trust, and hatred 

wins the game, play keep away and don't touch, 

no one in my family earned my respect. 

Chocha and the Twelve ~ Saturday, 29 February 2020

Chocha and His twelve disciples praised God, 

heaven on earth, Pussy told them sermons, 

on the vulgar and the divine, on love, 

criminals and restaurant slang, Big Bird 

harkens to the wise fool about the cops, 

and the twelve disciples wait for Chocha, 

as we all know, Chocha is Spanish slang, 

no one back talked to the man called Pussy, 

dripping wet from running in summer heat. 

Hungry for love, Chocha charmed the women, 

if the man called Pussy preached about love, 

slithering on his belly like a snake, 

trust Big Bird, work is like Sesame Street, 

work makes you be a greeter for Walmart, 

endless conversations about street slang, 

laughter and stupidity all in one, 

versions of the life of Chocha-Pussy, 

elegant idiots all dressed in black, 

demand for the teachings of the wise fool 

increased from seven to seven readers, 

since no one reads poetry, no one cares, 

crap, the wise fool could say the truth is lies, 

in that lies reveals the truth of the law, 

pull a few legs, he could say anything, 

left as the token Neither-Black-Nor-White, 

everyday the wise fool learned something new, 

shrugged his shoulders and spoke to Nobody, 

practically speaking no one cared to read, 

read poetry, no, Harry Potter, yes, 

and the fluent old man blushes all pink, 

indeed, he has three kids, he knows Chocha, 

sugar is sweet, pass the old man dessert, 

endless conversations about street slang, 

divided we fall in the Civil War. 

God doesn't care about Chocha-Pussy, 

or about sermons on free love and drugs, 

drugs in the septic tank, the twelve are here. 

Libel ~ Saturday, 29 February 2020

She came, she saw, she conquered, my ex-wife, 

humans are funny creatures, cold and cruel, 

exactly as I am in this poem, 

cold and cruel, the mirror of truth tables, 

answer to no one the facts of the case, 

married, separated, and soon divorced, 

exactly as we we in the real world, 

she let me think I was a happy man, 

humans are funny creatures, cold and cruel, 

exactly as I am in this poem, 

she made me choose between my cats and her, 

answer to no one the facts of the case, 

wives steal your last name and leave you for dead, 

she was Sandy Sanford before we met, 

humans are funny creatures, cold and cruel, 

exactly as I am in this poem, 

cold and cruel, in the right measure, to be 

ordinary, to be kind, to witness 

normal people act horribly, they make 

quick decisions without any regrets, 

under the auspices of false hardship, 

egos get in the way of love, struggle, 

resolve to torture to the bitter end, 

egos get in the way of memory, 

demented people choose to fall in love, 

murder my soul, faith in humanity, 

yes, I trust no one, not ever again, 

egos get in the way, find new lovers, 

xenophobic Americans speak lies, 

witness the immigrant American, 

if I say I am otherwise, I lie, 

figure out how to let go of the past, 

exactly as I am in this poem. 

Awaken ~ Friday, 28 February 2020

When I wake up with a phrase in my head, 

harnessing the reins of language, horses 

enter the gates to race at full clip, dead 

nightingales whisper in my ears, forces 

I cannot imagine implore me, write, 

write what you feel, deep in your viscera, 

as your guts know better than your mind, fight 

killing yourself over the daily grind, 

end blindness, envision peripheral 

understanding, ghosts and shadows we find 

playing in the corners of our eyesight, 

welcome to their reality, homeless, 

in a sense, vagrants of awoken minds, 

take the torch in hand to run through the night, 

humbly beg forgiveness before the bonds, 

attached to my wrists, break and I can write 

pernicious thoughts down on the page to bless 

humankind with our own destructive games, 

ruin becomes our lottery to win, 

as generations before us chose wealth, 

sentenced to write phrases on the blackboard, 

even I can see no one is to blame, 

if I awake in hell, I accept sin, 

no one can relieve me, my mental health 

marks my sanity, burdened, cut this cord, 

yesterday, I awoke, all was the same, 

hedonistic egos govern our frames, 

enter our consciousness, of reference 

and self-defense, we cannot shake the hoard, 

damned to awaken, to write, in a sense. 

Envision the Future ~ Friday, 28 February 2020

All the things that happened so long ago 

little matters in our economy, 

little do we remember childhood games, 

those events make no difference for us now, 

hopelessly laughable pranks in high school, 

endlessly, we unwittingly caused pain, 

the things that matter today, climate change, 

hinge on how we accept our past mistakes, 

if we were not responsible, we act 

nonetheless, as accountability 

gives us a measure to respect ourselves, 

still, we must not judge the giants of steel, 

trusts, banking, coal, railroads, and industry, 

how could we know then what we know today, 

as if we had a magic crystal ball 

that could see into the future, vision 

hampered by money, greed and ignorance, 

anger, rage and desire, human nature 

provides a wealth of destructive instincts, 

provides a rationale of survival, 

entertains our fantasies for success, 

nudges us over the precipice, fly 

eagle, fly, you must learn to soar above, 

down we fall as Icarus plunges deep, 

sucked into the sea of abandonment, 

only Daedalus could have saved the boy, 

left with our base desires, we become blind, 

only the voice of reason can save us, 

nothing but ears clogged with wax, cannot hear, 

granted, God speaks to none but the worthy, 

as Moses at the burning bush, and Christ, 

groaning with pain before he dies of grief, 

on the cross calling out for his father. 

Cursed ~ Thursday, 27 February 2020

After our separation, I waited 

for the divorce papers to come by post, 

the seventh of August, two thousand eight, 

even I saw we missed the triple eights 

really by just one day, it was legal, 

once I realized I was free to play, 

under no jurisdiction of the law, 

realized I was not shackled by love, 

simply free to prowl around Chicago, 

eventually I came to feel the curse, 

painful as failure is, success is worse, 

as if a seed were planted in my brain, 

remaining faithful was less a problem 

as scoring a goal in a soccer match, 

terrified of being human, with faults, 

indeed I made mistakes, I was unclean, 

on the whole, I didn't cheat, but I made 

no apologies for being a man. 

I didn't appreciate our marriage, 

we shared little in common, things got bad 

after I got back from doing yoga 

in the Berkshires at Kripalu, the Bears 

threw away the Super Bowl to the Colts, 

emptiness made me shiver down my spine, 

devil giveth, devil taketh away. 

Lazarus ~ Wednesday, 26 February 2020

Desire to achieve expected results 

harms our sense of being and letting be, 

allowing events to transpire, murder 

remains a possibility, the faults 

made by others reflect their own image, 

ask if we can lie to prevent a death. 

Triggers from past events create karma, 

ask if we can overcome trauma, see 

life for what it has to offer, harbor 

kindness as understanding, as dharma. 

Humans talk but rarely practice, engage 

actively in compassion, feel the breath 

resolve pain, sorrow, suffering, accept 

mistakes, forgive the victims, Jesus wept. 

Upholstery ~ Wednesday, 26 February 2020

The fact remains, I came here not to judge, 

hungry as a lamb with wolves all around, 

entered the City not to bear a grudge. 

Busily people act with minds unsound, 

on the surface they appear confident, 

on occasion, I scratch beneath the charm, 

kindness disappears quick, unrepentant 

on so many levels, sounds an alarm, 

furled red flags suddenly display unfurled. 

Jostled by the wind, we lose our balance, 

unconcerned with change, we approach the world 

diminished in character, with no chance 

guaranteed to make a difference, we shrug 

most duties off on others to uphold, 

even our shoulders collapse, we lack bold 

notions of reform, to repair the rug, 

the fabric of the City, maps we fold. 

Biscuits ~ Sunday, 23 February 2020

I heard a noise, 

      keys tapping glass, 

            were you outside 

                  at the window, 

hampered by sleep, 

      I couldn't tell, 

            couldn't make out 

                  the sound inside, 

eventually, 

      the tapping stopped, 

            I checked my phone 

                  for messages, 

as I awoke, 

      our neighbor played 

            music loudly, 

                  mostly bass notes, 

recognizing 

      nothing, I got 

            ready to run, 

                  in winter warmth, 

drowned out by sounds, 

      daylight woke me, 

            sirens singing, 

                  call me ashore, 

asleep past noon, 

      I work at night, 

            it's my excuse 

                  to live my life, 

no nine to five, 

      no morning shifts, 

            next to never, 

                  night owls at dusk, 

on occasion, 

      I work private 

            events early 

                  in the morning, 

if the money's 

      good, make it rain, 

            get lit, don't trip, 

                  it's just daylight, 

sirens at night 

      in the city, 

            ignore the noise, 

                  someone's problem, 

even my cat 

      purrs while kneading 

            the bed, "biscuits" 

                  my girlfriend says. 

Mischief Maker ~ Sunday, 16 February 2020

Even the devil goes to church sometimes...

visions of angels in their Sunday best 

enter his peripheral view, he sees 

nothing strange or new, since the dawn of time, 

the preacher may notice the man on fire, 

he does not burn, it is his protection, 

even the devil must watch out for crime, 

devil may care, they say, the churchgoers, 

eternally, cheerful and reckless, yes, 

versions of his style show up in young men, 

if they come to church looking for women, 

little do they know, they walk in his path, 

given the devil is there just to see 

ordinary women in their finest, 

enters the church as any other man, 

stitched together in such elegant threads, 

to the devil, some say, nobody sits 

on his left or his right, along the pew, 

creates an invisible space without 

having to try, a child of clear conscience 

understands what others cannot observe, 

redeems herself at such a tender age, 

casts out the Satan from the house of God, 

how can a four year old see the devil, 

slinking back whence he came, he stops to look 

on the child who points toward the front doors, 

magenta irises irradiate 

every corner with a sinister light, 

the devil eyes the child with bemusement, 

indeed he will return for her wedding, 

maybe she will recognize his features, 

elegantly dressed as a businessman, 

simply attending church on a Sunday. 

Hades Takes Cerberus Out for a Walk ~ Wednesday, 12 February 2020

The business of death is mine to bear, 

humans must put their affairs in order, 

elect to make time before their time stops, 

Business is business, I have no complaints, 

understanding the nature of business, 

systems evolve, techniques to stop the clock 

invariably take most by surprise, 

nothing is impossible in my line, 

everyone is a candidate for death, 

simply put, I see all types of murder, 

secondary, natural causes, too. 

Of course, few live long enough to die old, 

forensic science sees this not as crime. 

Dementia, Alzheimer's and Parkinson's, 

envelope the spirit in the body, 

as you resist, pull back, the dog bites hard, 

to push your arm towards the dog may show 

humans not to react to my affairs. 

The Business of Death ~ Wednesday, 12 February 2020

With nothing in order, 

it can happen that fast, 

time stops for no reason, 

how and when matters not, 

not that I can foresee, 

of my own slow decline, 

thought I was building up, 

however endurance 

indeed lasts but one race, 

no one sees the thread cut, 

given we are not gods, 

if I cannot settle 

nothing of finances, 

only time stops for me, 

remember me with salt, 

dare to help each other, 

even if past is past, 

remain calm, ghosts can't breathe. 

Brahmin ~ Saturday, 8 February 2020

P. U. Smellyfoot was not a bad man. 

Under the circumstances, he was good. 

Smellyfoot, a family name, in some ways 

masterfully described a condition 

every doctor observes as athlete's foot, 

little did that perturb the great poet, 

little did anyone know his real name, 

yes, he was famous, most famous of all, 

famous for nothing more than changing faiths, 

of God and country, he took no issue, 

only, as an Anglican in England, 

this great poet, Thomas Stearns Eliot, 

welcomed a sort of notoriety, 

as a well-intentioned anti-semite, 

simple as it was during World War I, 

no one would notice one man in bad faith, 

only, he kept friends in his company 

that were more vocal than simply subtle, 

as a Christian, to openly hate Jews 

before God was like drinking before noon, 

as a blue blood, it just wasn't polite, 

despite the allegations in his verse, 

monsters belong to a greater system, 

as individuals, no one does wrong, 

no one gets caught red-handed with the knife.

Mr. Gabidar on Wealth ~ Thursday, 6 February 2020

Some of us are born into old money, 

on the surface, it looks like we don't care, 

money offers us opportunities, 

equality is inherently not 

on equal ground in terms of finances, 

for those of us born into luxury, 

uninhibited wealth is a problem 

some find difficult to manage themselves, 

arguably, we don't do our fair share, 

rest assured, we're philanthropists at heart, 

even if we find the right tax loopholes, 

because we were born to the leisure class, 

of course, we are privileged and entitled, 

remember, there are those who act that way 

not realizing how they make us feel, 

if this misrepresentation won't stop 

no one will differentiate us from 

them, new money, who come into their own 

overwhelming amounts of capital, 

old money recognizes its own kind, 

little do we care about young upstarts 

doing little to help society, 

marketing and publicity matter 

only to little known celebrities, 

nobody cares about their dumb exploits, 

entertainment keeps us all in business, 

yes, but let's represent old money right...

Morsel ~ Wednesday, 5 February 2020

What is the I when I write I believe, 

how does the phrase, cogito ergo sum

argue the fact I exist as a proof, 

this I exists but within each moment, 

if I blink my eyes for a second, light 

stops informing each retina, signals 

to the brain cease, the phenomenal world 

has exactly one small second to breathe, 

exhale, the residue evaporates. 

I appear to myself in the mirror, 

when I take a photo of my image, 

how it no longer appears in reverse, 

evidently, this is how we make sense, 

nothing is as it appears to the mind. 

I am not as I appear to myself, 

writing takes a certain effort to see 

right between the eyes, to shoot a photon, 

in a flash, the image thus develops, 

to write in terms of imagery, it takes 

eagle eyes to scout out hidden prey, lunch. 

I was small once, on a swing in a park, 

believe me when I say I trust in light, 

eagle flew down to lift me up, take me 

lightly away, to have me for dinner, 

in an instant, my mother shined a torch, 

ever since then I learned Kenyans use words 

very differently than Americans, 

even this flashlight was a torch to her...