Tag Archives: Poem

One (1) short poem


Sometimes things do work out

He thought

As he washed his hands

In the dirty sink

Sometimes things do work out


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A Birthday Poem


T’was not the career I expected

But it will serve

In good stead it will serve

I know crank and seatstay


Hydraulic disc and PowerLink

I once set sag

For a Brazilian man

Who was like putty in my hands

Respectable to strangers’ ears

A paved path toward friendship

If you can leave the bike with me

The proper adjustments can be made


There is too much change

And too little change

My heart still craves

One thing

(At least I believe it does

Though I have neglected

To sit still for long enough

To really suss out the truth)

A rare confluence of

Time and space

Necessity and culture

Resulting in the

Sublime appearance

Of the perfect solitude

All else is distraction

All else is suffering

Torments endured patiently

On the journey to the goal

The further I beat along the path

The more exorbitant the toll


I hear the cruelties

Coming through the wall again

Hard lullabies in which

I struggle to find the tune


I’m not playing!

Retarded kids do that!

You’re smart now?

Don’t fuck with me!

Get up off the floor!

I will admit that I am sensitive

That I find it hard to take

But much harder

Were I a two year old

With no prospect of escape




Master of the fief!

Did you get the audio I sent?

Did you hear the child

Scream aloud

As her guardian hemmed in?

That warning you admonished

Did you hear it didn’t take?

Those hinges you installed last fall

Has she slammed them ‘til they break?

When she said she was embarrassed

You believed her, I can tell

Her child must have

Had some karma

To be rebirthed to such a hell


I have made eyes at the Buddha

I prayed to him one night

(The other night, a tired night

When the neighbor’s abuses

Were unbearable

And my anxiety came on)

It was a halfhearted prayer

Neither fervent nor devoted

But I try to see the

Emptiness in things

And to have compassion

Where I can

I mingle the Dharma with Don Juan

Until the mixture suits my taste

So long, self-importance

Death, advise me

A practical knowledge of


At any given moment

But alas

Someday soon

My mind will panic and cringe

My thoughts like vermin scrabbling

My mood a blood blister darkening

My heart set to self-destructing

When “reality” comes calling


Fantastical voyage

That no one can predict

Twists and turns beyond catalogue

Every joy a precedent

Each experience unique

The fulfillment is the journey

Not the goal we seek


Tired climb and endless slog

From tedium to disappointment

All the way

Then back again

All life is suffering

The simplest day’s desire

Will be crushed by stupid luck

Exploded on the roadside

Willfully ignored

By passers by


This is not to say I’ve given up

Or reconformed to pattern

But answer me this,

O World

Answer me this

Shall I dig my hooks and hold to dreams

Prepare to stand and fight?

Or sever ties and loose my grip

For Bodhisattva flight?


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New Year’s Poem



On New Year’s Eve

I went to a party

Of Jehovah’s Witnesses

And on the way home

My mother fell out of the car

All evening long my thoughts

Careened within the

Enclosing walls of self-importance

As a remedy

I pondered the fundamental

Emptiness of life

Coming to the realization that

My life is not nearly empty enough



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A Poem for the New Year





I tell myself that I am on the upswing

Because what else can I tell myself?

It is too soon for decline

My legs are still too strong

My aptitudes still too burgeoning

I did not peak when the others did

I will age like fine wine



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Two Poems






The three of them sit

On one long high horse

Saying unkind things

About the meal I have cooked


They told me this would be

A great opportunity

But it feels more like

A kangaroo court


I have prepared a six star meal

And I know it in my bones

Hindtaste always puts

Less acidity in the sauce


I have lowered my head

In bitter humility

And presented my naked

Neck to the panel


For my crimes against the palate

The judgment is firm

The blade swings once

And I am chopped







An exquisite lilac armistice

Shunted down the forenoon path

Bright and buzzing zealot heat

The recognizance of summer


The traffic enforcement officer

Greeted me with a smile

She trod on down the waveformed hill

Pausing once to smell the colors




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1 Poem

Everything You Do


Smoking weed with a friend

To go ‘cool hunting’

To climb through electric playgrounds

To explore inventive worlds


The cultural artifacts

Of 21st century abundance

Right at our fingertips

What could be better?


But in the kitchen


A shattering thought


Do you realize

That everything you do

Every action you take

Springs from the fact

That you hate yourself?


There was truth in that revelation

I almost went into

A deep and panicked spiral

Of self-loathing thoughts


But I calmed myself down

Set the topic aside

For sober reflection

On some dark and lonely

Nighttime walk

On a date to be determined


Looking back on it now

From a wiser

If not happier place

I realize I didn’t have

The best college experience

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