Summer Woes

Busy busy bee
No time left for me
Too much work
Too much fun
No time to be alone

Writers write
Yet at night
I am working
Or flatlined
In front of a screen

I promise to fulfill
My promise
To write
To look around
See what’s beneath
The surface

Summer is for doing
Winter is for thinking
How to make the nights
Be winters
Until the next summer morning

Writers write
Twits twitter
I don’t wanna be a twit
I wanna be a writer
Shut up and write
When it’s a winter night
In the summer

Two of Spades

Two of Spades

Walking on a Sunday morning
Robert Plant and Alison Krause
Are singing in my ears
It’s hot already
And it’s only eight

Summer’s finally here
Now I remember what it’s like
On this side of the hill
It feels better than I remember
Maybe absence made the heart grow fonder

I’ve been thinking about somebody else’s mortality
Wondering about his legacy
Wondering if he wonders about his legacy
Poor him
I’m pretty sure he does
For hours at a time

Walking and singing
Looking around
Reality show wannabe
Smoking a cigarette
In last night’s dress
Talking to a boy with a beard

The Japanese man is sweeping
The red steps
He smiles when I say good morning
He’s wearing Crocs
They are a little too big for his feet
But he doesn’t seem to mind

Hundreds of yellow petals
Looking like little bells
Are scattered on the ground
I try not to step on any of them
And almost run into

Two women in black
Look out of context
On this hottest of days
Because of the black
And the faces
Out of place
In the hills
They would be more comfortable
On the West Side
With the other faces
That have no lines
No expressions
Matching noses and lips

Do they live here?
Are they visiting?
I’m sorry for their perfect faces
Out of context

Not too many dogs today
Or walkers
Or cars
But it’s Sunday
It’s early
And it’s hot

I’m left with my thoughts
Exactly where I want to be
Looking at the ground
I see
A two of spades
Lying in the dirt

Alone
At the side of the road
Face up
And I wonder

How did it get here?
Is it a message?
Where are the other cards?
Why the two of spades?

Prayer for Myself

Prayer for Myself

Inspire me

High wire me

Forest fire me

Desire me

Drop me back on the razorblade

Life's been entirely too nice lately

I've lost my voice

I may be turning sweet

Oh, fuck!

My brain moved into my home

Got comfortable, stopped gazing

In awe

At the inspiration around me

I think of colors and shoes and sex

Instead of poetry

Please God please God please God

Give me back my voice

Writers write

But my themes are recently so inane

I am boring myself to death

Please give me back the balance

Of narcissist to genius

Of sensuality to insanity

Prosery not hosiery

I promise to use it

As You intend

I will always be someone's muse

Even if it's only my own

Please can't I have it back?

Fear

Writer's block

Is only fear
Of the vast expanse
On an empty page

Thousands of words
Images and thoughts
Trapped inside your head

Let one out on the page
It doesn’t matter
Which
Word or image or thought

One will follow another
And another after that
Making shapes
Filling pages

Shading
Fading
Trading

Forming an arc
A poem
A painting
A song

If only the artist
Stops standing in the way
Of his own gift
And lets it flow
And lets it go

From the head
To the page
To the eyes
To the ears
To the heart

Just let it go
Just let it flow

Close your eyes and jump
Maybe you’ll fall
Maybe you’ll soar
You’ll never know
Unless you let go
The fear

And jump

Fear

Writer’s block
Is only fear
Of the vast expanse
On an empty page

Thousands of words
Images and thoughts
Trapped inside your head

Let one out on the page
It doesn’t matter which

Word
Or image or thought

One will chase another
And another after that
Making shapes
Filling the pages

Shading
Fading
Trading

Forming an arc
A poem
A painting
A song

If only the artist
Stops standing in the way
Of his own gift
And lets it flow
And lets it go

From the head
To the page
To the eyes
To the ears
To the heart

Just let it go
Just let it flow

Close your eyes and jump
Maybe you’ll fall
Maybe you’ll soar
You’ll never know
Unless you let go
The fear

And jump

How come my head is full
Of ideas and pictures and sounds
One day and the next
I find myself
Watching Dancing With the Stars?

I cheat and look online
So I already know who won
And now I try to write
Because writers write

I tweet instead
Tonight I have no thoughts
Deeper than
One hundred forty characters

Thinking about nothing
Will I ever get laid again?
Of course I will
If it doesn’t matter
Who does the laying
But it does

So I remain true
To my twisted values
Celibate
Chaste, even
Not by choice
But chaste nonetheless

It’s not easy
Being a freak
Who’s past
Her expiration date

I think I’ll go back
And watch the end
Of Dancing With the Stars
Even though I already know
How it’s gonna end

Career Paths

Career Paths

I met you years ago
After I left my love
Looking for me
Finding the search
A little harder than I
Thought it would be

I sat in a little office
Working the night shift
You wore a suit
Don’t know exactly what you did there
But we laughed sometimes

And you snuck up behind me
Made me jump
I sent you plastic handcuffs
In an interoffice envelope

Bought them at the party store
On the corner
On my dinner break
And some fishnet stockings
To give you a laugh or a thrill

I was a bartender two nights a week
For some extra cash
In an English pub
My lover was my boss there
Mad Englishman and
I was the bit on the side

You came in sometimes
On Thursday nights
With the sweetest girl
Stayed for a little while
Listened to some music
Talked to some friends

I worked until two
Had a drink, tried to sleep
Saw my lover between jobs
Fought like cats and dogs
Made up a lot

Watched him sink deeper
And deeper into the powder
Arthur was replaced by
Someone I didn’t want to know

Sometimes I didn’t want
To know me very much then either
Living with roommates
Hanging out with rock sluts
Musicians with big hair
The dealer

Beautiful crazy girls
Get more than they ask for
But it’s never enough
And it’s always too much

My drug was sorrow
Not too hard to find
If you only look
After awhile it costs too much
But you need it anyway

You went off to find your fortune
Married a beautiful girl
Became a titan
Of business
A father
A CEO

I went off to find a fortune
Of a different kind
My lover sunk deeper
Too much even for me
Found another lover
Killed her
Killed himself

I read about it in the LA Times
At 6:30 in the morning
He told me we would be together forever
Only weeks before

I still think about that day
How I wasn’t the one with him
When he finally went
So far over the edge
He could never come back

I found my path
Lived a good life
Strange success in business
I never sought but found
Regardless

All these years later
In a different place
Out of context
Here we are again
Older, smarter
Still living in the same skins

You’re still married
To the beautiful girl
And she’s still beautiful
You’re a grandfather

Who looks the same
As you did back then
Listening, watching, learning
It’s gotten you all the way
To the top

I have a little white cat
A serial monogamist
Past my expiration date
With a taste for bad boys

Only they are either dead
Or with twenty somethings
The universe has finally
Protected me from myself

And here we are again
I wonder if you ever think
Of the old days
And if it’s lived up to your dreams
If you’d have changed anything

It has and I wouldn’t
Hope it has for you
And you wouldn’t either