Category: Poetry

Categories
Poetry

mistaken identity

I’m sorry
     have we met before?
you say you know me?
     I don’t think so

I don’t remember your face
     I don’t remember your feel
and though you seem congenial enough
     I can’t be sure the emphasis isn’t on con

for you act like you know me
     I can assure you, you do not
you talk like I can read your mind
     I assure you I cannot
you walk like I know you
     I assure you I forgot
you look in my eyes and I think you try
     to put a thought in my head
          but my soul is dead
               and I’m filled with dread
                    amongst this bread
               it’s crummy really
          but I can’t!

     I cannot read your thoughts
I know not how you feel
     I feel not what you know
I hear not what you sow
     I quietly mind my own business
so how surprised am I
     when I see a glint in your eye
as if responding to mine
     as if I should try!
                             try what?
I cannot try any harder
     I can’t try anymore!

          I feel as though I’m nerve-wracked
and body-wrecked upon unknown shore
               I never knew another soul existed
and I wouldn’t, couldn’t trust one here
     so excuse me, though you have insisted
I don’t think we’ve before been near
          and though I find it’s hard resisted
     I don’t think we’ll love sincere

though I bet your touch starts fire
     and somehow sets my heart aflame
I hope I lose this damn desire
     for you’re a stranger, only friend in claim
so I must say, I’m sorry sir
     I haven’t got the time
though by some you’re called master
     it’s your imagination, not mine
I wish I knew a bit more, boy
     like who you think I am
I wish I knew your mind, man
     there’s no mistake I’d be a fan
though you’ve mistaken my identity
     mistook me for somebody else
I became curious, intrigued
     fuck it all! it can’t be helped

Categories
Poetry

objectification

(alternative title: Self-Assessment)

I think my leg would make a nice lamp
   soft, supple, curved, and round

a good squeeeeeeze

if you look me up from down
   squish in the right place –
        and in the wrong
in front, a bright and lumpy face
   from behind, like every other PAWG
near-perfect ass – not too phat in size
   nicely shaped when I fold in half
        showing off some thick-ass thighs
   and big-ass ribs
an hour glass shape
   with small-ass tits
        deceiving, yes
        disappointing, almost entirely
   but most aren’t interested
in being surprised or disappointed
and so I’m left here unanointed
unbaptized but virginal – ah! a wish!
almost believable, but deceitful kiss
      when every swing returns a miss
except for the three, a perfect strike-out
who pitched to me? and filled me with doubt?

I think my arm would make a nice branch
   muscular, freckled, smooth, and strong

nice to tooooooouch

to whom does it belong?
   what soul could search and find
        a truly existent body
   independent of a truly existent mind?

no one!

   could it be a limb to build a nest?
 could it be a place of eternal rest?
could these arms wrap you up
 and hold you firm?
   or tickle-torture until you squirm?

 and would you understand
such impermanent nature?
or is your reliance political,
 predisposed to legislature?

squeeeeeeze instead

evaluate

and don’t forget
   your mind creates

and ever empties your plate
   but also fills you up

objectify this human creation
   dismantle parts with imagination
      for the whole is empty but of name
   and our mind is non-separate
we’re almost the same

 let last words be of virtue, love
      a wish for other’s happiness
and though I fit you like a glove
we play this silly game of chess
              you read these words,
            you leave them here,
            we’re left confused
           filled up with fear

       and then I pray and dance about
and use this body, to move, to shout
        and once again I live so free
   to end all fears and misery
all I’ve got’s one disbelief
        – how could it be only me?

Categories
Poetry questions

Where is the joy?

the tedium of days
    with their fits and starts
       a haunting melody
lacking rhythm
          lacking rhyme
       a humdrum routine
  safe, content, but lacking life

Where is the life?!

excuse me, for every so often
              I must exclaim
       there’s something pent up —
         they call it rage?
                      desperate yearning?
              I can’t explain!
          but it has to come out!
        how much can I take?
           (thankfully art is a good outlet)

now my prayer be heard by all
    I just want to meet a happy person!
        doesn’t have to be particularly
               handsome or tall
                   (not that that’s not nice)
    never mind lover! maybe friend?
       it’s a very very mad world
      and the time for being particular is near
      end
but we’re not there yet!
           how about a little happiness?
                                  I’m not some joker
                         ‘put-a-smile-on’-quack
                 just a halfwit out of whack
    who to some could be a little woker
                 (not gonna happen
                          you’ll never guess why)

so with all that exclaimed and said
I must admit what I want instead
is to keep my queen-sized empty bed
and lose the roommate I’m lucky to stand
but would much rather be alone each night
I am never so lonely – I’m always alright but

mixing the mind
         with the depressed masses
has brought invisible clouds
          to winter’s false sunny days
lacking warmth
     lacking love

it’s that time of year
        hawks swoop and call up above
       while this nest remains cluttered
        with dog fur of all things, poison
        what can I do but wait and pray?

        what can I do but appreciate
    these lucky opportunities for easy practice
    things were once difficult
           and could be hard again
      so upon which minds will you depend?
          (I hope the happy ones!!)

if the days grow long and tedious
simply rejoice and practice
there’s never need for sorrow, tears
when refuge in Dharma abounds
once more, rejoice!

let the ring go
      those who know will know

let go

let joy arise

Categories
humour Poetry

poor man’s metaphor

 (Note: read best aloud in James Donald Forbes McCann‘s accent & cadence – sorry if that’s appropriation)

     tonight,
a bird without song
         landed on my chest
heavy
         a big bird
     maybe a childhood wound
yellowed, tarred, and feathered with age
       the point is,
       there was no song!
       let’s not get caught up in the details

I’m sad!!!!

        and still,
     it’s all a dream
           it’s just a dream
                & I dream I am free

I’m happy!!

Categories
Poetry

with tact

needle my heart
thread me with hurt
keep me just alive

feel the cold anger
turn to hot sorrow
as I fight to survive

pull back bitten nails
pin me with pain
and pleasure derive

it’s torturer’s art
to keep us apart
and this love deprive

Categories
Good Fortune Poetry

True Freedom is Self-Control

I am free

               listening to
‘The Fear’ by Ben Howard

               realization after realization
blessing after blessing pouring in

               no longer worrying
that my time is a little unclear

               no longer worrying
that I’m losing the ones I hold dear

               no longer worrying
that I live my life in the confines of fear

               I must not fear

listening to
‘Is That All There Is?’ by Peggy Lee

               Fear is the mind-killer

if that’s all there is my friends

               Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

then let’s go dancing

              I will face my fear.

consistent joyful effort is clearly worth it

               I will permit it to pass over me and through me.

the prayers, the meditation, the patience

              When it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.

listening to
‘Self Control’ by Laura Branigan

               Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.

I, I live among the creatures of the night

               Only I will remain.*

I’m living in the forest of my dream

               but I have self-control

I am free

*Frank Herbert, Dune

Categories
Poetry

I am

I am not
       a shadow of the past

a constant reminder,
       the feeling, sound, the smell,
only a bit kinder
          still capable of perfect hell

how could it be
       an appearance keen
hair a mess and eyes uncanny
       feels like something that should have been

left in yesterday
       so why should it appear
         it couldn’t then stay
             yet the similarity’s now here

I cannot be a shadow

       I am solid, tangible

taste me
       don’t waste me

fated to meet often
         fated to part again

please me
       don’t tease me

fated to laugh together
         fated to get better

keep me
       don’t creep me

fated to fear each other
       fated to love some other?

I cannot be a shadow

       I produce sound, reflect light
I am more than imagination
                                    and yet,

no more than mind
still too kind
fuck that noise!
you have no idea
until the pedestal falls
and it always gets knocked over
amidst the crimson & clover
tracking texts, relentless calls
you have no idea
distrust that poise
I mean, no one’s that kind

I cannot be a shadow

except of a doubt
to ponder and wonder
what’s she about
of course, lacking solid evidence
the conclusion is drawn
at least a vestige
at times a reflection pool, drink
but rarely so calm, that image manifests least
marshmallow fluff, and not serious stuff
ephemeral, that’s for sure
immaterial and yet a painted city girl
because it’s a capitalist material world
she is a shade, phantomed, reduced
for that is what our minds will do:
                   concoct and reduce

and so
              I am
though mostly
              I am not
while this grasping persists
                           truth resists
and my reality is rot
        mind-made, illusion-caught
please stop!
            and see
                    the light in me
    though with delusions fraught
            and sad!
how sorrowful and absent glad!

the shocks are shot
       stability knocked out
as if by a naga-induced wave
  such a close shave!
        moments of despair
        threatening to take a life away
        only through blessings can one remain
        believe it or not
please stop!
            and try to see
this element of humanity
made of five elements, impure
air, water, space, earth and fire

try me
       don’t buy me

fated to come home
       yet still fated to roam

kiss me
       don’t miss me

fated to touch hearts
       fated to loathe parts

adore me
       don’t ignore me

fated to be shaken
       please let us awaken

I am not a shadow of the past

perhaps I am an apparition of the future
       if I were anything at all

but what am I?

moment by moment
       who am I?

if I am anyone at all

Categories
Holiday Cheer Poetry

My Tears

My Tears*

I’m crying all the time now.
I cried all over the street when I left Jack’s near Montebello Park.
I cried listening to Heart.
I cried looking at the winter leaves strewn across the yard, I cried at the sadness
            of the now-ignored trees.

Happiness exists I feel it.
I cried for anger, I cried for delusions.
The world is addicted to anger.
Joy appearing to be seen, but lost, a mirage.
                                     Overflowing tears of Avalokiteshvara.

January 1, 2025
*a tribute to Allen Ginsberg’s “Tears,” 1956

Categories
Love Letters Poetry Thirsty Thursday

Past Life Vision | Letter 11

Dear Past Life Connection,

Don’t get stuck in your head
don’t think
            I’d be better off instead…
don’t let the demons get to you
don’t think it’s better if it’s new

I know it doesn’t seem so right
when things get hard & a little tight
but I think good’s worth a little fight
after this dark comes a lot of light
                           (I promise)

All that I could wish for you
is a cease of suffering, aches, and flu
this love, the wish for happiness so true
and the desire for such joy to remain
with fearlessness, absent any pain
and a healthy, happy, stable mind
a loving heart and neighbours kind

Don’t despair, my humble friend
for we’re at beginning, not the end
do not worry, do not hasten
it’s only our drive, our pulses racing

Let’s enjoy the lust, the draw, the pull
let’s unfasten our will, glass half full
of wisdom, we wish, we want to escape
this prison, ordinary existence, red tape

Somewhere between sex and fear
this passion lies
yet we’re too courageous
so we thrive
against all odds, mistakenly alone
staring reluctantly at our phones
aghast, embarrassed
a hint of cowardice
               — shit

Don’t get stuck in your head
we’re better off instead
to enjoy this dance of life
embracing opportunity with strife

I know it doesn’t seem so right
that it should be left to you
but in the interest of tradition
I encourage thou come through

Don’t despair, my falling friend
it’s just the beginning, follow the thread
roll the dice, don’t flip the car
please remember who you really are

It’s worth it
                 (I promise)

Love,
a distant past lover

Categories
Poetry

lack of need

as in neurochemical warfare
this lack of need arises
I broadcast completeness
even as you redial your radius

do my cells respond differently
on this higher plane of functioning?
am I intimidating in this energy?
here, let me mix my mind with thee

let my coherent electromagnetic field
press through yours, transform the rooms
of your psychic home as I enter, invited
though I lack the vampirism you once desired

I do not fill voids, nor create them
I am expansion, a field of possibility
a humble being, deferential
do I operate in abundance?
                              yes! I do
do I create your potential?
                              no! you do

have I stepped into my power?
ever saying yes, ever saying no,
ever acknowledging limitless maybe sos,
feel my field around you grow
let it draw you in, ebb, flow
why resist?
           it is not your neediness
this attraction, enchanting pull
it’s purpose and purposeful
in this quantum entanglement,
                          there is always
fresh opportunity for plentitude
independent growth
                creation of abundance
with virtuous oath
        see this force of nature and rejoice!
rise to your own highest potential!

no one is responsible for me but me
there is no one for whom I lust or need
a statue of such purity
in body, mind, and speech is she
there is no one to save inside of me
don’t say that would threaten thee
for only strength could be my key

and please do not pretend to be
an interference pattern
to escape the thought of me
     and rocket off to Saturn
I do not plan to chase or run
for that is never any fun

I have no need for satisfaction
of temporary yearnings
I find kindness, love, and patience
offer far greater learnings

and yet!
     of course if proffered
it certainly would have me hot
                      not bothered

you want results?
just create causes
that’s what I do!
I show them the receipts
but keep my plans secret too

opt for resilience
growth and independence
never in childishness
    except in play, harming none!
       so plan to endure my completeness
                             and come undone!

our mission is not to fill holes or voids
       or other tedious contract work
but rather the happiness and joy
                        of sexy contact perks

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

never clingy, helpless nor hungry
never confusing love and greed
and still if you were simply wondering
I’m definitely a different breed
ever wishing to be free

and still not freed
from this lack of need