lioness

lioness
sitting paws folded
in cool repose
waiting to make
more cubs...
pant...
pant...

feeling better already

these are the purgey poems
the structureless aimless
get them out of my system poems

they exist like zits better yet boils
waiting to burst and get the poison
out of me onto tissues, into trash bins
en route to landfills to be part
of some day parks where people
will stroll unaware on what they tread

jux tapose

you were a cross between
gandhi and jack lalane
who just passed awn
zsa zsa wating to go
or that farah and michael
who checked out on my birthday

being purposefully obtuse
well not obtuse but vague
making idiotic cross celebrity
references just to appear
wicked smart....

who uses ellipses in poems
as much as i do for you baby
or sumptin' like that

jux tapose i were to act like a popeye
to your olive oyl and al sharpton to
your jackie O....
just expose

On the Snowy Road

i should not just sit
and try to kerouac away
but should think first
ponder, be more deliberate,
and think about, deeply,
what i am trying to say.

Proud of Myself

i was thinking
a rare event itself
of writing a poem
expressing
the depth of passion
and innocent wonderment
the unbridled joy
dare i say ecstasy
of writing this thing
this little ditty
this minor poetic work
almost without using
any fucking curse words

change in tone?

am i more angry
less content or
just plain old pissed off?

what is that word
from my youth? 
from my sophmore year
the best year to be a
real true communist
in the purest sense
what is that word?

just kidding...
i knew it all along
discontent
i am discontent
disenchanted with
the stupid economy
collective greed
the widening disparity
in rich & poor & the end
of the american century

i should write all my poems
during bored meetings
choking on the spreadsheet cell
dyslexic points of power
focused on the ugly truth
sow's purse, silk ears
blah blah blah...

too white to be a rapper
too old to take up arms
too lazy mostly

i suppose the tone has changed

output

two poems in two days
be still my racing heart
two poems in two daze
with almost no meaning
or insight, devoid of feeling
with symbolism so subtle
even i don't see it

but look at the productivity
two poems... unphased