can I hold your interest?
captivate you?
a butterfly, aimless in a breeze
or a moth, suicidal to a flame
I only live to entertain
are you not entertained?
how we exist
appears only in name
I only stay to go insane
are you not the same?
Tag: creative writing
Categories
divination
I am the speaker of the poem
divine entity
beauty, grace
flowing robes and lovely face
sent from heaven unto this place
pure imagination
I am water streaming,
a silent river, sans creepy songs
absent dark tunnels
I, a speaker, fantasy
I, fucking magical
I, ever unseparate from an I
a true personality
untrue
glistening, golden, unafraid
tattooed
cling and clung and am clinging to
lacking inherent-existence-goo
a samsaric stew
a real fuck-you
I, a speaker, falsely accused
lacking permanent subsistence
a temporary view
constantly made anew
I, changing perspective
a bit see-through
emptiness-clue
with good ideas I then undo
I, ever introspective
meditative
on the swift escape route out
I’m wishing you’ll come to
I, the speaker of this poem
invention imagining the spoken you
inception in the meta sense
write it in the present tense
I haven’t really any plans
except to collapse into this poem
when your eyes are diverted
to some other interest, next deserted
from whose side do I exist?
I, the speaker of this poem?
divine entity
beautiful, strong
stunning, intelligent
rarely wrong
who from your mind
came and soon
from your mind
gone
Categories
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
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?
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
(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!!
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
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
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
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
The Halfwit Writer 