Monthly Archives: June 2017

Saturday’s Song

Love, Poetry, Stella

I feel gorgeous, I feel stupid
I’ve just made out with Cupid

His red lips sting so sweet, so sore
But I’m telling ya, that demi-god is a hot-bod bore

Standing in my socks and waiting
I thought he’d be more intoxicating

“Fall into my eyes,” he groans, “Gaze, gaze deep.”
Twists his face, barely moans, and, yes, falls fast, fast asleep

I’ve wasted dinner and an hour!
I’m a sinner, I need a shower

So gorgeous
So stupid
So stupid
But gorgeous, believe it
Take it in, receive it

I compel you, don’t I?
I compel your third eye
To open
To cry
To cry

I feel gorgeous
I feel stupid
Sing it again
Loop it
Loop it
Gorgeous
Stupid
Gorgeous
Stupid
Gorgeous, stupid

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Aging Actor Agonizing As Again He Faces His Familiar Face In The Glowing Glass Of An Underground Dressing Room Somewhere Out There Tonight

Free Form, Prayer, Work Life

Nightly I face thee to efface me
My most dear
My most somber sober friend

Hear me now
You
Who only live in light

The self is illusion
Mine, an allusion to an imagined self we collude to enjoy and endure for an hour or more
So many allusions
So many selves
So many concocted lifetimes
So many carefully crafted entanglements, each anxiety endlessly examined and fondled and absorbed and displayed
So. Much. Makeup.

It is a tedious life

The best of us are empty:
Tin barrels played upon by expert hands
Begging for meaning
Begging for another goddamned job
Begging pleas: “oh, please
Let me be seen
again and again”

There is worth, mind you, but only briefly in that moment we momentarily share
In the allusion to the unwieldy illusion we unendingly share
There is worth
Then
But soon we bow and the magic swells and breaks and the breakdown begins anew

Again to seek our mark
Find our light
Call our agent
And hope for the unwritten cue

React and repeat
React and repeat
Reacting, repeating

Tedium

Ah, mon dieu, it’s time,
Yes, the time has come
Places, everyone

Inhale
Lights out
Powder and disappear

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Like So, a prose poem for lovers of all ages but particularly lovers in their mid to late 20s in major American metropolis centers

Love, Prose Poems

And baby like so we enter your sphere of sadness and like so we enter mine and acquiesce and allow the sorrow to break us and break us to silence and like so baby we hold each other in our naked embrace of warm damp skin after our love making is done damn it’s done and through your window we float above the jeweled city lights you and me against the world baby floating here where they can’t touch us or know us as we know each other in this warm cradle safe and removed from the unconscious beehive below us below us baby baby mine so like so we smile and sink in sink in deep and secure in our smug sweaty glow deep in our shared sorrow aching so like so like a cobalt hued river flowing placid still like liquid glass through the carved and carving caverns of our head heart and heavy souls and like so sleep sleep darling in our naked nest our sobbing cocoon until the morning comes begging again for light and life and let us begin again begin again begging again to be like so.

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