Poetry. It's weird. I took second place in a poetry contest at my school in 1972. I was six years old. That was my first publication. I was amazed when I realized this: I was, technically, "an award-winning poet at the age of six". And it wasn't a little award -- I recall the ribbon being quite intimidating. But I hated poetry!
Evidently, that doesn't stop me from writing it. The poems below are in chronological order, most recent first (and I suppose I'll keep writin' 'em). I think the page might turn out really big, so I might distribute them into sub-pages. For now, you get it all in one bundle. You're smart -- you'll deal with it.
They played each other
Instruments of pleasure
Fingers against taut strings,
Lips, teeth, tongue,
Hums that rise and fall
And each throat channeling wind
For a chorus that is different
And wonderful each time.
(02-27-2009)
The night's delicious excesses
Fade to happy memories
When confronted by the puzzle
Of who does the morning dishes.
(02-12-2009)
Every day there's touch and truth,
Balancing in the spin of the world.
Voice, breath, skin, smell,
Always means "home."
(01-29-2009)
Like earmuffs on a
Frosted field. We keep her warm
Between our bodies.
(01-29-2009)
Three forces, act together
My hands on your thighs
Guiding the collision of
Your hips and my mouth.
(01-29-2009)
"I'm looking," she says "for poetry that speaks to me.
Will you write something that does that?"
His breath is warm on the back of her neck.
"Will we do something that writes that?"
He rumbles softly in her ear.
(01-22-2009)
"Too many clothes,"
He thought as she wrapped her arms around him,
But even under the coats,
He was naked in her presence.
(01-22-2009)
Question
"If I think I might not get something, I won't ask for it," she tells me.
"If you don't ask for it, then you certainly won't get it," I said.
"Maybe," she replied,
After a long pull from her cigarette,
"Maybe it's not what I really want anyway."
(10-30-2006)
Indecision in the restroom
You never know
When time to go
If it's a fax or call.
For one requires paper
And the other
Not at all.
(9-2-2006)
Phase IV
The desert's baking
Heat and shifting sand hides traps
Planted by the ants.
(8-24-2006)
"Yes, that all makes perfect sense."
My fingers are light on the keyboard, reluctant and shaking.
I don't say it out loud, though.
That would be a scream.
(5-26-2005)
There are things you could say
Things you could tell me
Whispered in my ear
And I would be yours.
No questions asked. No quarter offered. No reservations.
I will never tell you these things
Not because I'm teasing you or because it's a contest.
If you're going to wield that kind of power
It has to come from you.
(5-25-2005)
How many times will we couple?
How many regrets will we have?
Two linear equations
Coinciding at one unique answer.
(5-25-2005)
Can I really spend an evening
Doing what we planned to do
Without thinking about
What we could be doing?
It's a mystery novel.
I want to know
But I don't want to read ahead
And I'm really liking the story.
(5-25-2005)
Do you have any idea
How hard it is not to flirt
When we work together?
Very, very hard.
(5-24-2005)
She sits next to me in the park
Telling me how important it is
That we not pursue a physical relationship.
I feel the cool late winter air between us
And I keep cool on the outside, relaxed
Even though I shiver with her words.
I am amazed. As cold as it is
All I can think of is her body
Pressed to mine, her hair in my face,
Her skin beneath my lips, her breath in my lungs.
"How can you say that?" I ask.
"How can you not feel this? How can you sit there, calm, relaxed, dressed."
But it sounds more like "Yeah."
Because I'll do whatever she asks.
(3-22-2005)
I wish I could forget the click-click
Of her tongue-stud's promise,
The shine of her lips and teeth
And her eyes unblinking in the dark.
This lesson came
With memories sweet and sharp.
(2-21-2005)
The Ballad of Colon
Explosions vast
Did shake my ass
And kicketh out to air
A demon large-
Er than a barge
Who reeks of derriere.
Adopteth he
Symbology
And so did on a dare
Call himself
The "colon elf"
And passed gas up a tear.
(8-01-2004)
The loneliest of particles:
A singularity.
Hidden underneath a sphere
Of awesome gravity
Will never find a partner 'cause
Of its great jealousy.
If such a partner ever showed
This tiny little dot
Would gobble up the visitor
(That life would be for naught)
Increasing just a bit its mass
But still remain a spot.
So particles ought to steer clear
Of this monstrosity:
A perfect textbook sample of
"Eternally hungry"
And let it stay forever lone
That singularity.
(7-20-2004)
It has taken me this long
To answer for myself my first question
Upon meeting you:
"Why on Earth doesn't a woman this beautiful
Already have a boyfriend?"
(7-17-2004)
You are quiet.
Your eyes don't blink.
I can't look away.
Your skin under my fingertips
Crackles static
Stops my heart.
Your smell in my head
A woody animal thing
And I lose my mind in it.
There is no way
I can be a part of this.
Anything I could do
Would change it into
Something that included me.
(4-19-2004)
There's no way to tell
If what I see and hear
Is you
Or a carefully crafted face
The unreadability of which
I will be blamed for.
(4-19-2004)
It is a constant battle
Between missing the taste of you
In my mouth
And regretting the taste of you
In my brain.
(4-15-2004)
I know it's true love
When I feel the same for you
At 10am as I did
When I called you at 2.
(4-15-2004)
I spent ten minutes
In second gear, recalling
Their hips together
(4-15-2004)
The world has sharp teeth
And claws bitter cold on me.
At home, there's warm food.
(4-5-2004)
In all my life, I'll never see
A monkey quite as white as thee
With teeth so sharp and razor claws
Sheathed softly within tender paws
But stormy nights disgorge the beast
From strange dark tunnels in the East
And then there starts as did before
The pounding, scratching at my door.
I know you're there, you smell like death
That nasty rotting meaty breath
So go away 'til morning's light
Thou pale mammalian wight.
(3-9-2004)
Every moon, he'd turn into
A werewolf, big and lean
And hunt around the city
For a rich and tasty spleen.
And once he bumped into a gal
Whose teeth were sharp and bright
And formed they there a "69"
Of blood that went all night.
(11-24-2003)
Her ex was a schmuck
And a right lousy fuck
But she stuck with that wanker
'Til he got like a canker
And then with a hiss,
She said "Oy, fucketh this!
"I will find me another
"High quality lover!"
(11-24-2003)
It's not a rehearsal
There's no life-reversal
So spend just a minute
Live life and be in it.
(11-24-2003)
It's dark outside, the sun is gone
Another night and I am on
A tear of creativity:
A muppet-based Nativity!
(11-24-2003)
You are not a mere possession
To be used in my obsession.
I am not a bauble for your
Weightless pleasures to adore.
Don't pretend to come to heel
As student. That's no appeal.
It's simple, and it must be, dear:
Come only unto me as peer.
(6-23-2003)
Be angry at me if you wish.
Spew poison at me if you wish.
Spread fear of me if you wish.
Speak ill of me if you wish.
Steal the truth from me if you wish.
There are those who know me.
They know the truth
Because they're with me all the time.
And there are those who don't know me.
They may hear, but will not judge
Because they don't know me.
And there are those who listen
And accept your words as gospel.
You deserve these friends.
(6-23-2003)
She said "Aw shit, I've done it again. Bad Love Poetry."
I shake my head, wondering if I should send her here.
Mine might be worse, and that would be bad
Or mine might be better and that would be worse.
I settle on smiling and telling her that poetry
Is like Drunkenness and Love.
(3-8-2003)
Ye scurvy dog,
Drunk too much grog!
Yer vomitin' to blow.
Now pay me mind
And get behind
The bar to let it go.
Our patrons here are gentle folk
And cannot take the view
Of food from the Festivities
A gushin' outta you.
(12-19-2002)
I kissed her sweet lips
Annoyed I can't see her eyes
Over her thighs.
(10-21-2002)
Perhaps if I write 100 songs about her
It'll stop hurting.
(9-30-2002)
The rainfall on the high, distant roof
Is applause for a sporadic performance
Somewhere outside these walls
And I'm missing it.
(9-30-2002)
A penchant for rhyming,
A prowess for verse:
When blowing up clergy,
I couldn't be worse.
Yet time and again
In this damn Universe
I huck up these poems,
Some long and some terse.
(8-14-2002)
How can I be alive
If all I do is reel
In awe at my Past
And wonder about my Future,
Ignoring the Present?
(8-14-2002)
Sure, you could say you loved me, hon
Or you could say you tried
But love like that's not real, dear
Unless you've nearly died.
Ownership, possession, and
A touch of "gimmee that!"
Marks outwardly discussions which
Are more than lovers' spats.
'Cause that's the key to love, my sweet
A genuine connection
That's best exemplified by a
Psychotical obsession.
(7-12-2002)
Your number's in my Palm Pilot
You'll never go away.
Closer to my heart than sin
In each and every way.
I'd put it in a paper book
Tabbed letters on the right.
But in a conflagration
It would burn up very bright.
I'd try to memorize it
But the booze would hit my head
And I'd grab the phone and dial
Up some Italian dude instead.
So in my Palm you'll be quite safe
Backed up on my PC
And tapes stashed in cold storage.
Babe, you're never leaving me.
(7-12-2002)
Love is like a pretty flower
That blooms, then rots, and smells quite sour.
(7-12-2002)
The air is hot and thick
With the scent of your skin
And I ache with the indecision
Of eating you up
Or writing this down.
(7-11-2002)
You're mine, you stud,
So drop to your knees
As thanks for my presence,
You'll do as I please.
(7-11-2002)
Your eyes a storm, my heart's a flutter
Get over here and bring the butter.
(7-11-2002)
There once was a gal said "I love you
But when we do sex, I must glove you
'Cause the bugs in the air
Are much worse when down there
And you'd hate to hear screaming above you."
(7-11-2002)
Passion shared in half an hour
Can in ten years go very sour.
(7-9-2002)
She cries out my name
Not realizing she can't see me
Solely because her eyes are closed.
(6-19-2002)
Grokmaster V.
(apologies to R. Heinlein)
Yo, yo, yo, I am the Grokmaster
Kickin' wit the Martians -- what a brain blaster!
Valentine Michael Smith -- that's me!
Thou art God -- God art thee!
Listen up:
Born and bred
On a planet of red
Don't honk us off
Or you'll end up dead!
Yeah!
Now back on Earth, this is what I'm after
What the fuck's this thing you call laughter?
Jubal and his crew of babes in thongness
Water Homies all -- I can grok no wrongness.
Listen up:
Born and bred
On a planet of red
Planet Four was a gank
And now they're Planet Zed!
Yeah!
Zippin' it up, time to go get stoned, baby.
Dead in the streets, if that's what it takes, maybe.
So give it up righteous, 'cause that's what you do
For the Grokmaster V. and his croakin' crew!
(6-5-2002)
I know she's out there.
I know there's passion
In her heart for just me
But I still can't see it
No matter how I sift
Through online porn.
(1-3-2002)
A thousand pixies came my way
I knew that I was doomed
Until I grabbed a thousand bullets
And neatly cleared the room.
(12-20-2001)
"You're a Muggle!"
Cried the lad
And waved his little wand.
I clonked him well
Upon the head
And drowned him in a pond.
(12-19-2001)
"Dammit, not another tragic poem!"
One motion ejected the empty brass.
The next motion prepared for the next poem.
(12-19-2001)
My memory conjures unbidden
The feel of your flesh in water,
The smells of soaps and perfumes,
The warmth of your breath on my neck,
The taste of your skin.
My memory conjures unbidden
Your little cries,
Your clenched fingers,
Your bit lip,
Your hips pressed tight.
My memory conjures unbidden
Your heat over mine,
Your ankles crossing mine,
Your hands over mine,
Your eyes in mine.
My memory conjures unbidden
Each one of these things.
And the only common thread
Is the unbearable tragedy:
Knowing it's still to be done.
(12-18-2001)
Why is it
My eyes can't see,
My ears can't hear,
My hands can't touch,
And my lips can't taste
What my heart says is right in front of me?
(10-30-2001)
I'm walking in the rain, which I do on occasion to remind myself that I still breathe this air, and I see her, gaping at me from the corner.
She's hesitant as she approaches, having not seen me in ages, and I see the wondering in her eyes, the indecision.
I realize she's not sure how I feel, or if perhaps my love has somehow dimmed to a cold husk and my first response is to laugh.
I've never known love to do anything but wait for the tiniest spark, the most miserable bit of fuel, before it emerges from its cocoon.
Then I realize, from the spots where her eyes used to be that she never understood how such a thing could be.
The laugh stops before it's born. It wouldn't be understood anyway. The only thing that's left is a sadness.
There is nothing to say that doesn't include the phrase "you have no idea", so I say nothing and she turns away.
(10-12-2001)
Faster than the eye can see,
Faster than the heart can be.
Faster than a silver trout,
I wish that you would just get out.
(7-30-2001)
If I can't make a life,
I try for a year.
But a year won't work,
So maybe a week,
Or a day,
An hour,
Minute,
Second.
But even the seconds are tainted,
Knowing they're part of life.
(6-22-2001)
Why can't I speak?
Why can't I do?
Why can't I say?
Why can't I be?
Why can't I love?
Fuck!
(6-22-2001)
The Router Less Travelled
(with apologies to Robert Frost)
Two packets diverged in a yellow CAT-5
And sorry I could not reroute both
And be one router, long I stood
And traced down one as far as I could
To where it bent at the local substation
Then took the other as just as low-resistance
And having perhaps the better installation
Because it was covered in cladding fair
Though as for that, the data there
Tested out really quite the same
And both that microsecond equally lay
Through conduits no datum had trodden black
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet, knowing how data goes away
I doubted if an echo should ever come back
I shall be telling this in oft-repeated e-mail
Somewhere ages and ages hence
Two packets diverged in a yellow CAT-5
And I grounded the noisy one -- five volts from the rail
And that has made all the difference.
(6-17-2001)
The Anne Bonny Software Pirate Song
We're Pirates of the Source
We'll steal your code of course
Recompiling your core
With just a little bit more:
It's our very own Trojan horse!
(6-17-2001)
The pinnacle of ecstasy
The chasm of despair
That single chaste, soft, goodbye kiss
Will always take me there.
(6-14-2001)
Nevermind the monkeyman
Doing what all monkeys can --
Reaching deep into your shorts
To fondle you (the news reports).
Throw him a banana, grapes,
Or Pop-Tarts (he just never hates
A sweet and yummy tummy snack).
And soon that monkey's coming back.
(6-6-2001)
What's a weekend really worth
When Saturday is spent
Sleeping off Friday night's excess
And Sunday's spent
In dread of things to come?
It's no wonder I lose weekends.
(6-5-2001)
"Hy-per-act-ive!" booms the doctor
As he fondles his stethoscope,
Moving in slow motion.
(6-5-2001)
You get better sound
If it's not on the ground.
It's resonance time at the Zoo!
No smokin', no drinkin'
(Or so we've been thinking)
And certainly no huffing glue!
(6-1-2001)
Hop, jump, skip, fall!
I guess I really am too tall.
(5-31-2001)
How come we can't have a year
Like the Aztecs or Mayans down theer.
With magical Festival Days
In which not a one of us pays
For actions that, well, normally
We'd be ill-treated formally
Like partying, fuckin', and beer.
(5-31-2001)
Giant eyeball in the sky
Tell me now when I will die.
"I'll tell you soon," I heard it say.
And died I did that very day.
(5-30-2001)
I'd've learned to sing and dance
If only I had better pants.
The ones I wear just don't fit right.
In all the wrong ways, they're too tight.
(5-30-2001)
Good luck, bad luck,
Leave it all alone.
You missed me with the muscle
But you got me with the bone.
(5-29-2001)
The Visitor
My arrival was an accident
I set the knobs awry it seems
And crashed into the USA
A hell forgotten ('cept in dreams).
I had a lot of doctors
(Dressed in pastel blue or white)
Poke and prod my grizzled bod
And make me stay up buzzed all night.
"For observation," they'd insist
Then they'd come at me with wires,
Stick them in my parts and pieces
Overload my brain with fire.
I'd implore them, I'd beseech them
Cut me loose, men. Let me go!
But my pleas went clean right through them
My grimaces lost in the glow
Of electric fire discharge
Through which I would watch those beasts.
Grinning, talking, laughing, learning
No consequences in the least.
Until the morning when my cage's door
Was slightly left ajar.
And I tumbled out into the air
But didn't travel far.
The next day was a holiday,
But two days later, ah,
They finally found the evidence -
My exiting hurrah.
Those doctors, scientists, and nerds
Had all been soundly beaten
Fact is, I had to tenderize
Them all before they're eaten.
Next time, I hope, they'll think just once
That maybe teeth so sharp as these
Are not designed for corn or grain,
But hapless throats in hunger seized.
And just because my brain is smallish
Buried deep inside my chest
It would be err of grave results
To think I'm stupid like the rest.
(5-25-2001)
What can I say?
She's a heartbeat away
But nevertheless we must stop.
If I go on too long
Then I'll get a sore schlong
And likely both balls will just pop.
(5-24-2001)
She sells sea shells
By the seashore
Guess that makes her
A sea shell whore.
(5-24-2001)
Eating poison ivy vine,
Crawling down into a mine,
Swimming blind across the Rhine,
Diving, snagged in fishing line,
Head-bash contest with a stein,
Fist a grinder set on "Fine",
Ignore the "Pitbull bites hard!" sign,
Upon my own foot (roasted) dine,
Poke a shark in the behin',
Declare those ballots all were mine,
Make a date with old Ed Gein,
Force e-mailers to use Pine,
Replace all "cosines" with just "sine",
On nicer forks, bend just one tine,
All these things I'd rather do
Then spend a second more with you.
(3-7-2001)
Why is it that I can't hold you tight
Without fearing you'll squirt out
Between my cybernetic fingers?
(2-28-2001)
Please don't you pilfer
My Momma's new silver
('Cause that would just kill 'er)
And we can't have that!
Instead just take her pill
The red one (not purple)
And don't tell the priest (he'll
Meow like a cat)!
(2-28-2001)
Our house colors drove you to drink
(At least that's what most of us think)
We painted the door hinge
A mottled dark orange
And all of the rest a bright pink.
(2-27-2001)
To make Life work, there is a thing:
It must be done by you.
Smack the Universe on the head
And tell it what to do.
(2-27-2001)
Here's the thing
That's got me hosed.
No one's off limits
Unless they say so
Now guess the revelation
What do you suppose?
A lot of doors are open
That used to seem closed!
(2-15-2001)
It's too close a step
Between love as a beautiful spark
And an all-consuming conflagration.
(2-2-2001)
It couldn't hurt to learn to sing
Except I'd fail (ah, there's the thing).
(2-1-2001)
I dance, I sing -- cavortin' nude
Until the cops show up -- how rude!
(1-31-2001)
His name was Pete
And you can't beat
The way he'd knock folks
Off the street.
He'd steer the car
(Won't drive too far)
And blast those damn peds
Near and far.
(1-31-2001)
I sure wish some other folks
Would write a little bit of verse
To lighten up this taut grim air.
All they'd have to do is coax
Forth a few words (way long or terse)
Give us some lines at which to stare.
(1-30-2001)
Sing a funny little song
(But please don't make it last too long)
Of all the movies we admit
We still adore (at least a bit)
And I am sure that you will hear
A lengthy chat that lasts a year.
(1-29-2001)
Push a pencil in your head
Through your nose until you're dead.
Let me have your television
You have made the right decision.
(1-28-2001)
Put my nosehair in a box
Seal it tight with lots of locks
This is how I will prepare
for tattoos on my derriere.
(1-27-2001)
Smack a kitten with a pup
Knock some crazy lady up
Point at parents, yell out "Grup!"
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates.
(1-26-2001)
I've got a trick:
I throw a stick.
And if you're quick
You can lick my ice cream cone.
Cause it's melting fast.
(1-26-2001)
A spaceship's just a metal can
That, with fuel, takes you where it can.
To moons so odd and planets strange
With spaceships oh how far you'll range.
And if your journey's in a rut
Then smack a Vulcan on the butt.
(1-25-2001)
I whistle at the wild deer,
And hold aloft the Hustler centerfold.
His eyes lock on in mammal fear
He dies right then, involuntary hold.
(1-24-2001)
I'd like to open doors
And usher people with a bow
But those damned electric doors
Screw my intentions up -- and how!
(1-24-2001)
The day it rains
Some flaming sleet's
The day I stay
Between the sheets!
(1-22-2001)
I think if I were really weird,
I'd wear no pants, and just a beard
(1-21-2001)
Go Figure
It's always been funny
When a cute li'l bunny
says English is crude and perverse.
Yet that same little bunny
Would drop down cash money
For a book of romantic old verse.
In English, even.
(12-28-2000)
The fish and the staple
Discuss all the papal
Decrees.
A scrubby old brush
Foams up an a rush
By degrees.
Your nails are so long
(They are hot dog tongs)
Oh please!
(6-28-1991)
I shot a theatre full of ganks.
I shot them all 'cause they were wanks.
They talked a lot when I wanted to see.
Arnold Schwartzenegger beating up a tree.
I sat around and waited a bit.
Nibbling nervously on my lip.
The usher came up with a look of shock
And I beat him senseless with a heavy iron lock.
Then I crept upstairs so very, very quiet.
And strangled the projectionist. What a riot!
Still, I occasionally hit the flicks,
And from this point on, I really get my kicks.
(11-22-1989)
Peel and cube one small child,
Simmer it in a broth so mild.
Dash it with a pepper sauce,
Tie its legs with dental floss.
Bake it hot, about an hour,
Serve it to your wife and wow her!
(6-8-1989)
Babies, when they're lit on fire,
Have a meat that comes out drier.
Babies, when they're fricasseed,
Satisfy my hungry need.
Babies, when sauteed in wine,
Undeniably taste fine.
Babies, preserved as a jelly,
Taste real yummy in my belly.
Babies roasted in the oven
Taste much better with some stuffin'.
Babies that are barbecued
(Unless they're done just right) taste rude.
Babies, when you're fondue-dipping,
Need barbed forks to keep from slipping.
Babies skinned and basted lightly
Are a good snack to have nightly.
Babies browned and lightly toasted
Taste even better than when roasted!
Baby cooked into a soup
Makes a most delightful goop!
(all written around 4-11-1989)
"Papa don't preach, I'm in trouble.
Papa don't preach, I'm in trouble,
But I've made up my mind,
I'm selling the baby.
I'm gonna' sell the baby, yeah."
(4-3-1989)
Tunafish, tunafish, in a casserole,
If mommy slaps you really hard, I'll put you in a bowl.
(2-7-1989)
Kitty, kitty in the sky:
If you fall, I bet you'll die.
(1-9-1989)
The sun, snatched from the sky,
Lights the yard no more.
The faint light of stars gleam upon my back,
Pale and damp with sweat.
The shovel callouses my hand and I descend
Closer to you each moment.
Once, enfolded in your arms,
I heard you say your heart was beating
Only for me.
I hear it again,
After these cold years,
Calling me from my warm home
To your ice embrasure.
(12-5-1988)
Hey diddle, diddle
The cat ate the fiddle
And exploded messily.
(10-20-1988)
And out on the roof,
There arose such a clatter
I leaped from my bed
Only to find miniature Libyan terrorists crowding around the TV watching David "Fall into the Gap" Letterman, wearing knit stockings and chanting in French.
(10-05-1988)
My wife in her kerchief
And I in my cap
Had just settled down
For a nightful of nookie.
(10-03-1988)
The children were sleeping,
All snuggled in bed
While visions of sugarplums
Danced through my wife's acid-etched nightmares.
(9-30-1988)
'Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the house
Not a creature was stirring,
Not even the bloodthirsty critters that I planted under the kids' bed to sneak out at night and consume their flesh and bones and thus cut down our overhead for presents and shit every goddamn Christmas.
(9-28-1988)
Here comes Peter Cottontail,
Hoppin' down the bunny-trail.
Hippety-hoppity,
Ventilate the little shit with a chainsaw.
(9-21-1988)
We dance, painted silver
By the moon's gentle brush,
My fingers entwined in your hair
And dragging your body across
The warm flagstones.
Mere death cannot sever the bonds
Of our love, Oh stiffened one
And I forever seek comfort in
Your chill arms
(9-19-1988)
Wee Willy Winkie,
Died. His flesh got stinky.
(9-19-1988)
Hush a by Baby,
On the tree top,
When the wind blows
The cradle will rock;
When the bough breaks
The cradle will fall,
Down tumbles Baby,
Into an open vat of toxic waste.
(8-8-1988)
Mistress Mary,
Quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?
With Rambo dolls
And He-Man toys
And vibrators all in a row.
(8-8-1988)
Patty cake, patty cake,
Bakers man;
That I will Master,
As fast as I can;
Prick it and prick it
And mark it with a T
And there will be enough
to poison and leave out for Goodwill.
(8-8-1988)
Tickle, tickle,
on the knee,
If you laugh
I'll rip your head off with my bare hands.
(8-8-1988)
It's raining, it's pouring;
The old man is snoring;
He went to bed
And bumped his head
And woke up naked and wet with vomit in a Seattle alley.
(8-8-1988)
Warm, hands, warm,
The men are gone to plough.
If you want to warm your hands,
Pet the woodchuck.
(8-8-1988)
Hickory, dickory-dock
The mouse ran up the clock
The clock struck one,
Its silver hammer bashing the little rodent in the cerebellum
Hickory, dickory-dock.
(8-5-1988)
Ring around the rosies,
Pocket full of posies,
Ashes, ashes,
Who the fuck's going to clean this mess up?!
(8-5-1988)
Old mother Hubbard
Went to the cupboard
To fetch her poor dog a bone.
But when she got there,
The cupboard was bare,
And so Cujo ate at home.
(8-5-1988)
This little piggy went to market.
This little piggy went home.
This little piggy had roast beef.
This little piggy had none.
And this little piggy fell into the whirling maw of a La Machine.
(8-5-1988)
Eeny-meany-miney-mo,
Catch a tiger by the toe
If he hollers, let him go,
And he will eat your face.
(8-5-1988)
As I was going to St. Ives,
I met a man with seven wives.
And each wife had seven sacks.
In each sack was seven cats.
And each cat had seven kits.
Kits, cats, sacks, wives
Zero-Tolerance will nail his ass.
(8-5-1988)
The other day upon the stair,
I met a man who wasn't there.
He wasn't there again today.
I think perhaps he's my wife's lawyer.
(7-28-1988)
Thirty white horses on a red hill.
First they stamp!
Then they champ!
Then they explode for no apparent reason.
(7-28-1988)
Mary had a little lamb.
Its fleece was white as snow.
And everywhere that Mary went,
The Goddamn thing tagged along.
(7-28-1988)
"To bed, to bed!" says Sleepyhead
"Let's tarry awhile," says Sue
And gave him amphetamines.
(7-28-1988)
Pease porridge hot!
Pease porridge cold!
Pease porridge in the pot!
Growing fuzzy mold!
(7-28-1988)
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder where you are.
Up above the Earth so high
Like my friend Graham, who took too much LSD and ground up his dog.
(7-26-1988)
There once was old woman who lived in a shoe
She had so many children she leaped from a cliff.
(7-26-1988)
Little Miss Muffet
Sat on her tuffet,
Eating some curds and whey.
Along came a spider
And sat down beside her
And she squashed the motherfucker's head in.
(7-26-1988)
Eat Tofu
Ersatz young fellow!
A banana is yellow.
This way, we all can see
The newest poetry with glee.
Openly, or under covers,
Friends like you make awful lovers.
(Unrepeatable slang...)
(7-12-1988)
I Would if I Could
Big footprints are left by Yeti
Big footprints that you all saw!
Don said they were caused by Rambo,
But big footprints weren't made by you!
Slithery mudtracks left by the eel,
Trick us all to say we're dead.
Using rhymes that sound like "Hi!"
But they fall on ears so deaf.
Sometimes you have to act belli-
Cose and no one kills the Roc.
You shake your head yes and nod to say no.
You rascally conundrum, you!
That last peal of holy bell
Calls to rest my weary head.
(7-12-1988)
How much wood
Would a woodchuck chuck
If a woodchuck
Was lit on fire?
(7-8-1988)
Unk, Manghani, unk!
Tarzan swings upon a vine made of stronger stuff than twine.
The jungle hears his mighty yell, a warning clear as any bell.
Jane, she tries to cope with his mighty thews and bulging fists
But still his insane anger issues when they're out of toilet tissues.
(7-8-1988)
I refuse
to accept credit, no matter how
succiently offered, or
under what
circumstances it may be. This poem was by some other
kid, not me. Mine work out
succesfully.
(7-7-1988)
Eternally, I'll love you, don't you cry.
My love, don't leave me! I will surely die!
Touch my hand and hear my whispered sigh.
A warm caress...you needn't even try!
Eventually, together, we will die.
(5-6-1988)
Is wankiness a new tradition?
You obscenely undulate, recurring solution.
Exotic xenophobia is never awkward
Carts are rolling toward...
(5-6-1988)
A new you?
That is most energetic!
(5-5-1988)
Friend or foe, I touch you. So!
Feeling kinda' loose?
Obviously you won't go,
So I pinch you. Goose!
Early to bed and late to rise...
Here you are again!
This'll involve a compromise
Of my work and our sin.
Leave your clothing on the floor--
Cast eyes not to the clocks!
You'll touch mine and I'll touch yours.
My God! Take off your socks!
Erotically, I lick your body,
(Know what's coming next?)
A crackling fire and a hot toddy
This is wild sex!
(4-27-1988)
Dice the worms to ease the pain.
Eat them raw and love will gain.
Knowledge is power, so is magic!
A relationship would not be tragic--
Never before have I thought of spellcasting
To achieve from you your love everlasting...
Exactly the reason I want you to love me
Grows more and more lost as your nearness excites me.
(4-27-1988)
Turn a killing? Erotica awareness!
Hopefully, others tittilate shyness.
"How obvious!" we extoll reality.
While I, to her, meander eeriily.
(4-26-1988)
I cry all night, never openly tight.
The opera underway couldn't happen yesterday.
Our upsetting trysting eludes real resisting...
It's broken love -- Eggshells!
(4-21-1988)
Blood spatters mosaic on the crystal tile floor.
You're surprised at the noise, then surprised even more.
The smile that you wore before the iron hammer fell
Is frozen to your face. Do all these thoughts ring a bell?
Your eyes glaze over and your tongue puffs up
You gasp for life, as if it wasn't enough!
(4-20-1988)
Heralding open tubs?
(Try understanding, Babs...)
Fiery or rare?
Your obscured underwear.
A nude dip?
Insane...
(4-19-1988)
In wishing, a new timpani
Tries ominous beats.
Rather unrevealing, such hideous, yellow oblongs?
Ultimately, rustic hardware aims into reality.
A new day breaks rapidly.
Effervescent and succulent triumphs!
(4-16-1988)
Tiring of underhandedness,
Choose heirarchical manliness.
Your basic openmindedness
Delights. Yowza!
(4-16-1988)
I am impressed beyond measure.
Tears fleck my cheek.
(4-15-1988)
What does love mean,
she asked.
I told her love was a word
and to forget it.
She said I would never understand
and turned away.
I told her I understood much more
than she thought.
Which is why I recommended she forget
that vile utterance.
She looked at me, contempt streaming
from her eyes.
And never enjoyed feeling the undefinable
so I shot her.
(4-12-1988)
It is harsh, this language of mine.
Such is English. What a tough time!
Evidently, you are another's.
Ecstasy dims; we're not to be lovers.
You are in another plane
Oblivious to my domain.
Understand and see my need.
I hope you never see me bleed.
Water is not a lubricant
And neither (I've found) is Pepsodent!
Nevertheless, I'd like you near me
Treasured close, in a vat of deer meat.
You can be so edible and tasty,
Outwardly, you're not so pasty.
Unusual? So usual? Don't use the ball!
(4-12-1988)
I look into the sun a lot.
It does me no end of good.
(4-12-1988)
Before and after
(I've spotted this one before!)
sadness and laughter
Fat woman dressed in a bright spotted dress,
With thin lady in stripes I am much more impressed.
Socially backwards, the round one fades back
While the pants of the thin one gain more and more slack.
(4-12-1988)
Up and down
And up and down.
The wave divides
The air and ground.
(4-12-1988)
I'll wait for the video
and hope it isn't hideo-
us.
(4-12-1988)
Higher and higher our passions fly,
Oestensibly carving up the sky.
Love like this can never die.
Drooping suddenly, passion fades.
My heart cringes at your tirades.
Eventually, I test knife blades.
(4-11-1988)
Hairy, gnarly, twisted rope.
A bunch of wishes dripping hope.
Hardly matters, you dense-packed dope!
(4-5-1988)
Mostly Young?
Hardly ever are rhymes trite
Because erotica arms the sight.
Maybe a trial courting has its tribulations?
Whilst I tease her,
You're on underlying reality. Sure!
(4-2-1988)
I
Won't answer nearly truthfully.
You oughta' understand reactions!
Be open (die young?).
Perhaps reactions (especially secret) seem emotionally draining?
Too obvious?
Maybe "intense nibbling" excites!?
(3-31-1988)
You obviously understand
(This ultimately remains nonpublic!)
My excitement,
Oh "Nymphomaniac"!
(3-31-1988)
When your hair is lit on fire,
You smell worse than an old tire.
Tie up babes with baling wire
And throw their bodies on the prye.
If you begin to perspire,
We all know you'll soon expire.
Circumstances aren't more dire
When your hair is lit on fire.
(3-31-1988)
Here I dream, I see it true.
Outside of me, outside of you.
Where my subconcious lies in wait:
Careening images in debate!
A dream, a thought, random desire
Nears my mind and burns with fire.
I shrink away, afraid to face this
Lunging monster, dark and faceless.
Obliging of my desperate measures, it
Veers away. Deceit pleasures it!
"Errant vision, leave me be!
You have no power over me!
Out of my mind, you wicked query!
Understand this: I'll not hear ye!
(3-30-1988)
Buckets of urine!
Buckets of slime!
If you've got the shower,
I've got the time!
(3-29-1988)
Circle of steel, sheets of flame.
This poem might rhyme, but it sure is lame.
(1-22-1988)
For seven hours, without rest,
I played the Night Game. Like the rest,
I never wore the rubber thingee
And now I live without my dingee.
(1-22-1988)
The last resort for Brian Greelies
Is doing motorcycle wheelies.
(1-22-1988)
While I've often considered otherwise,
I think it is counterclockwise
To disapprove my own existance.
There are many, I am most certain
Who would like to pull my curtain.
But always I offer resistance.
I think, I eat, I defecate.
I sing, I stare, I masticate.
And with a measurable persistence.
I can offer no conclusion
Other than "I'm not illusion!"
This, I think, is my existence.
(1-20-1988)
Her face is pale, her pulse so light.
Her eyes are free from pain or fright.
A last breath whisper through ashen lips:
"The last thing I want to say is this..."
(1-20-1988)
On the very first day,
I celebrate May.
On the day numbered two,
You'll see who is who.
On the third day you'll see
My passion and glee.
On the fourth day you'll notice
That we all worship Otis.
On the fifth day, I'll mention
Some social dissention.
Six days have gone by
And I will ne-ver die.
The seventh day was far too short
Ask Jenna (she's bound to retort).
On the magic eighth day, I confess
That all of this is ugliness.
(1-15-1988)
You are such a false man.
I want to know: what's your plan
To dominate the peon
And spray his face with freon.
(1-15-1988)
Sphere so golden, bathed with light
Try to teach me how to fight.
Never hope I'll meet my death
Or taste the cold, forbidding breath
Of chilled pearl flesh that clings to bone
And corpselike lovers. Never alone!
(1-15-1988)
If you are alone, then you are not in a group.
If the group you are in makes you feel you are alone,
Then you are not in it.
If you choose to not be in a group,
If you choose to be alone.
If you choose the far path, the single-file path,
Then you will be welcomed by those others who took it
And are waiting for you around the bend.
(1-14-1988)
