Concealed ~ Saturday, November 30, 2024

You who are, are not ~ in a sense, no one
of course, my defense ~ as apology
underscores logic ~ up, up and away

when, then, you are caught ~ off guard, with your gun
how can I help you ~ you are, in this state
on edge, no offense ~ but astrology

as biologic ~ genetic survey
resolves nothing but ~ more pain in the end
empty of value ~ open to debate

arguments aside ~ what have you to gain
remember the fun ~ you had as a kid
each G.O.A.T. has their pride ~ I was once insane

nerves burnt by the sun ~ once, the highest bid
ostracized, my gut ~ who would thee befriend
terror in a sense ~ accepts the abuse

initiate choice ~ voiceless as a child
nitwit that I am ~ always on the prowl

as for you, so tense ~ and blindly abstruse

solve the problem, not ~ the solution, cast
each stone, to rejoice ~ in the sea, for wild
noises in a clam ~ upsets with a growl
sufficient to cause ~ alarm without calm
empirical dot ~ explodes with a blast

nothing to do now ~ but to start again
only if you fuss ~ we leave you alone

or the sacred cow ~ tipped with stylus pen
nervous on the bus ~ watches as a drone
empties without pause ~ chambers full of charm

Devil's Highway ~ Tuesday, November 26, 2024

On Route Six Hundred Sixty-six, we stopped

not for kicks but for the Devil to piss

Righteousness from the Conservative Right

oh, the elections were, for sure, twice robbed

until the Resistance rises again

the Sycophantic syphilitic bliss

envelopes Melania with stage fright

Suck the cock of Donald Trump bitches, spit

into a spittoon, the humdrum cum, Ken

xenophilia loves not the white dick

Hung well like an elephant not a horse

until President Blunt becomes a prick

nobody forgets plans for war, of course

despite the Devil in office, to shit

responsibly, irresponsibly fast

everywhere in the Oval Office, nice

dice up his children, not worth a fat fuck

Salvage the truth, priest, from a pederast

invoke the god of irony, bugger

xenophobic strangers, their fear of rice

turmeric, ginger, garlic, cumin pluck

yellow pit viper ready for the war

save for signs of "Jesus Saves", witness graves

in a heartbeat, President Blunt smokes Gore

xiphoid process broken, how God behaves

welcome another bloody tree hugger

every time we vote for civil war, start

stopwatches at zero, the hero falls

the hero dies, President Blunt smokes weed

order a barrel or a bushel, smart

plucky interns keep the besotted fools

pranked until the Electorate recalls

election results, political greed

defers to President Blunt, talent pools

Papal Avuncular Nepotism ~ Saturday, November 23, 2024

Van and Vincent never saw their uncle
as adults because he lived far away
nearly the distance their uncle would run

annually to train for marathons
not that he was good but dedicated
dedicated to his own mental health

Van and Vincent lived in California
in San Clemente where they had their home
never moving even once unlike dad
cultivating a sense of place for kids
especially Vincent, on the spectrum
not unlike his uncle, Papa Kitty
the man without a name, anonymous

never lasts a long time, until at least
eternity and uncertainty ends
versions of a contradiction appear
entangled in spooky action, karma
recalls the underlying dharma found

structurally as the building blocks seen
at the beginning of the universe
work in Chicago, never worth his time

travel, too expensive to go visit
home, a pier in Huntington Beach, his mom
eventually acted before her death
in the guise of a Roman Catholic
remembering the Lamb of God forgives

until the sword of the resurrection
needlessly lopped off her head at the neck
consequences for actions not results
leave Papa Kitty sad without family
each year, the holidays leave him hollow

καθαρός ~ Friday, November 22, 2024

When we look at this, what we see is death
however, death is not what we perceive
embedded in a coffin in the ground
never do we see their face, their last breath

windows to the afterlife closed, stitched shut
elapsed memories to compare deceive

linguistic mirrors make judgments unsound
overt attempts to tie images down
ordered into a sequence, in the gut
kinds of difference, otherness, we receive

ancient associations, we reject
traumatic visions of the real, conceive

terror as what is beyond, to inject
horror as quotidian, blame the clown
inspector of the mundane world, for laughs
shrunken humans appear headless, no crowns

wickedly grotesque, ugly, without sense
how phantom spirits stride, tall as giraffes
at the zoo, on safari, in a bus
tranquil the sunken face of death, she drowns

water so shallow, she fell off the fence
enveloped in alcohol, she seems drunk

such behavior is not worth all the fuss
enter judgment, the clown's playground, her corpse
entirely ineffectual, dead

in the passage of time, a light beam warps
similar to wooden beams, welcome dread

diminished fifths, the tritone bends the trunk
each to their own, bodies both young and old
accept without argument, without words
triumph of the well-wishers, little birds
holed up in a bush, sparrows, lives unsold

The Grief Process ~ Wednesday, November 20, 2024

The cousin of my girlfriend passed away
having a hard time with my emotions
experiences do not process grief

call my friends, so far away, just to say
out of the blue, by the way, I love you
ugly tears cannot fall in the oceans
learn nothing, move on, no sense of relief
deal with my feelings by writing these words

out of nowhere, wait for the other shoe
for everyone poops and everyone dies

maybe uncertainty and the unknown
yell at me, just to say, everyone cries

given the fear of death, may I postpone
insipid interest in the fallen birds
resting broken beneath giant windows
lifeless and dull, lives lost in a moment
for all the little birds in migration
restlessly traveling, pain comes and goes
in waves, at first acute, then a dull throb
endlessly, as a metaphor, unbent
needles dig through to bone, the sensation
diminished fifths, augmented fourths, tritones

passion decreases, this life makes me sob
as people come and go, whence to and fro
such questions remain unanswered, I ask
simply to wait for time to pass, to blow
eternally, as this dream wears a mask
detached from emotions, as from my bones

aging gracefully, a façade of cool
wake up before the death of my girlfriend
arrive at work late, I cannot pretend
yesterday, at church, I prayed, still a fool

Bullseye ~ Saturday, November 16, 2024

All my fault, allegedly, from the start
leave it alone, let go and move forward
linger not in the past, memories last

morally bankrupt, friendship is an art
yet, because I could not save you from death

face the future alone, I turn shoreward
alone without family or friends, the past
undermines the present, a gift, this rift
lines the length of the fault, with your last breath
time stops, I must move on, I gotta go

allegedly, it is all my fault, dear
leave no stone unturned, they say, do they know
little understood matters as your fear
envelopes the universe as I sift
gently through memories as time stood still
emigrate to foreign lands, wish I could
decidedly, it is not the passport
liberty carries no baggage, ill-will
yellow as an egg yolk, scrambles my brain

forget the incident, live as I should
remember all the cocaine we would snort
otherwise focus on work and money
make a living, stay healthy, catch the train

try to put the past into perspective
haunted by a phantom, a ghost, your loss
exerted pressure, I'm no detective

slide down the slippery slope, lose the toss
try to see the context shift as honey
articulates a will, hate and money
reincarnation is a dream, as a dart
that flies toward the board, milk and honey

Blackstone Diamond Cutter ~ Friday, November 15

What was I thinking when I said, "I do"?
heaven knows I should have become someone
addicted to heroin in a band
this did not happen, as the other shoe

waiting for it to drop, took a lifetime
ask me what I did in the meantime, son
sucker, I watched and counted grains of sand

I resurrected the dead-end jobs shift

to think I wasted my best years, my prime
how did I not see there was so much more
if I took a look around I would see
not only the forest but the seashore
kindness was nowhere to be found, a tree
in the forest fell, no one saw me drift
not simply downstream but to the ocean
grind the children in a spice mill, they say

work them to death, freedom is just a word
how I remember too much emotion
everyone else saw me as just intense
not that anyone else stood in my way

I could have been anyone when this bird

simply whispered in my ear, "I love you"
ask yourself what would you do, on the fence
in another state of mind, run like hell
did I blink, it melted with my mistakes

I do not want to hear it toll, the bell

despite lessons learned in life, that's the breaks
order a round of shots, the other shoe

Turn the Other Cheek ~ Wednesday, November 13, 2024

In a world of people with no regrets
no sense of repentance, or contrition

actions without consequences, no ends

without the means, as to ask, are all bets
off, is the world so unpredictable
revolve in orbits full of ambition
leave no stone unturned, watch how a rule bends
decisions make the law just or unjust

offenses where thought is indictable
forgive the harm before the damage done

pardon and absolve the ignorant sheep
emerge from silence as if to atone
once compensation pays for deepfake sleep
pass over to ignore the lack of trust
lack of upper crust, cucumber sandwich
elegant yet eccentric tea party

windows to empty chambers, shutters closed
if to hide the truth in an on/off switch
torture the children once behind closed doors
hover in wait to attack as sortie

needless extras around the set are poised
objectively as mannequin fodder

remain for the rest of time on all fours
erect a monument, an obelisk
grant a license for a poet to die
remember a duel is not without risk
engage in a sequence with the same lie
trade fame for immortality, dodder
slowly then fall, no regrets for egrets

Honoré ~ Monday, November 11, 2024

Got you by the proverbial Balzac
one or two, just checking, maybe you cough
turn your head, and don't get all hard and stiff

yellow-belly pacifist, don't fall back
or drop off basic training in retreat
underneath the tank treads, I hear you scoff

belligerent protester, off a cliff
you jump to save a pride from certain death

trouble is...you're still asleep on your feet
how you snore, felling trees with a hand saw
entertain me with your rhythm section

pretend you're awake, see the lion's paw
reach in and dig out your guts, defection
only promises the brig, your last breath
vicious kittens eat your entrails, you sail
endlessly on-board the Arctic Sunrise
rotation on the horizon, you frame
brilliance within a zen koan, your tail
instinctively twitches with REM
as sleep makes you realize all the lies
littered in the ocean, red zones of shame

But what debris do you see still asleep
ask me if I have read Stanisław Lem
leave me out of your business, Solaris
zippo to learn, light up another blunt
another eyes closed shut while we French kiss
cuddle afterbirth after sex, dull grunt

old carnivore, standing by, the good sheep
nervously awaiting their turn, the blade
edges each neck, cutthroat, Damascus grade

Śūnyatā ~ Monday, November 11, 2024

Rui Carlos da Cunha as a name
undermines sense, what we know of as time
in an instant, work done for eggs to break

Collect your things, too crazy for our game
as a consequence, you now have no home
resort to meetings, as it is your dime
lost down the slot to make a call, a freak
of nature to madness, we cast you out
such love is family, I burn this dome

dimensions of climate heat up the air
as a sādhu, my revenge is your joy

Consequences of torture are unfair
underneath the veneer, as your boy toy
needless harm to a child was done, I pout
harness the sun, my chariot bakes shame
as forgiveness to understanding lost

answer this question, for what was my crime
such an inconsiderate brat to blame

anger bottled up as pure rage, a child

no one will ever know, thrown away, tossed
across the room like cloths covered in grime
murdered my soul, a three-year old, brother
ecclesiastical hate crime, the wild

ugly, underbelly of alcohol
noteworthy for nothing, fame rule, I choose
decisive action, at your beck and call
endless maneuvers to take not to lose
recollection, a monster, the other
murder my soul, brother, for millions earned
insatiable ignorance feeds on wealth
necessary to institute power
egotistical maniac, you learned
skills to broker abuse as a lifestyle

senselessly demonic, as mental health
eats the bonds of family, ivory tower
necessary refuge to find logic
skilled in argument to refute denial
enable the alcoholic to harm

welcome to neglect behind closed doors, see
how the bruises never show, the alarm
admonishes ill-will as purpose, free
the soul family murders, top hat magic

wand in hand, tap, tap, tap, pull the rabbit
egomaniacal brother, you win

kiss me goodbye, I lose, as I become
nothingness incarnate, out of habit
old eggshells, childhood fears, I stomp to crush
worthless as an adult, venial sin

obliges me to speak, the zero-sum
forgiveness in your embrace, my karma

ask me not to pity the helpless thrush
suffers the little bird with broken neck

transparent windows kill us all, we fall
in an instant, game over, what the heck
murder my soul, impermanence, recall
emptiness, I die, this is my dharma

Futebol ~ Sunday, November 10, 2024

Papa Kitty waits for God in his bar
as if to him the burning bush would speak
perhaps he feels as if he were special
as if a hundred dollars would go far

Killing time with fútbol on the TV
if penalty kicks matter to the weak
transparent losers as they arm wrestle
their way to the championship, P. K.
yells himself hoarse with polyps doctors see

while his pipe dream came true, he never left
attendance of the bar to anyone
if God could intervene, perhaps a theft
tragic as that sounds, he wants to have fun
see the world with travel to Han Cathay

forgive to forget, he wants to move on
ordeals and struggles makes him desire more
rolling on the floor laughing like a dog

God couldn't be bothered to care less, son
on the move with a whirlwind tour, to sell
dishes in Han Cathay, as if to score

instinctively, a deal for some peat bog
needles under his fingernails, torture

how Papa Kitty accepts how he fell
if grace matters to religious players
sellouts for commercial advertisements

bailed out of jail by his thoughtful lawyers
as if he were a kid, their chastisements
result in zero punishments, for sure

As a Lark for Larkin ~ Saturday, November 2, 2024

I was killing time inside a bookstore

waiting for the Nepalese restaurant
across the street to open up again
starving, the hyperbole of a bore

killing himself slowly for many years
if long distance running is but a jaunt
literally, down the road without the yen
lifting me up, a butterfly in flight
injury added to insult, the tears
needlessly fall as a necessity
grit, determination, perseverance

trauma and distress melt out of pity
insults from childhood bounce as if I dance
morbid with sorrow for decades, the bright
-
enlightenment in my twenties switched on

initiate instruction to recall
near amnesia by others of harm done
slide down the chute, recovery to spawn
integrity tactics to overcome
depression as a clinical downfall
enigmatic and eccentric, how fun

artistically autistic, I was dumb

burdened by my punishment to behave
over two decades, the torture game set
obliged never to complain of the past
killing time enables me to forget
search my conscience to forgive, shadows cast
triumphantly moving over my grave
objections aside my death cannot last
resolve quarrels with squirrels and press save
ephemeral the clouds always move so fast

Gjǫrth ~ Friday, November 1, 2024

Little did he know with his girth in place
indeed, the wrong place, in fact, the wrong hole
that he could not tell made all the difference
that he lacked, truly, the wherewithal, Grace
left him well alone to do his business
even though Bull pulled out, my name is Cole

divine Grace, my mom, by an inference
indeed, let a man bugger from behind
diminished, he filled her up with stiffness

how I came into the world, thrown and born
egoless, my soul, transient sojourn

kissed by divine Grace, my mom, without scorn
needed a baby, no husband, slow burn
owl full of wisdom, from a seed so blind
worthless to debate the value of life

while each soul is born to live for how long
in arrhythmia, syncopated beats
tell time as tempo, battles without strife
how Bull took the news, I never found out

how Bull up and died, convenient, his schlong
inside divine Grace, my mom, whom he cheats
sits inside a well, poisoned forever

given narrative as a form, I shout
in praise of Dark Hype and Hype Dark, Hyde Park
resides my Karmann Ghia nostalgia
transforms all theories conspiracies spark
how Bull ended up, sick with myalgia

investigators found nothing ever
nearly so fishy, smelling very strange

pretend no foul play, no harm done, he fell
link Project MKUltra to a well
argue against hate and war, acid dreams
cover up army dreamers with their screams
emigrate to Spain, the Dutch in orange