Category Archives: Poetry and Prose

expressionist freeverse, punk rock lyrics, occasional ode to love, digression into nonsense, or possibly vaguely lyrical or rhyming, but not likely – maybe in cycles

Hot Dogs and Vodka (alt 2)

V 1

I get three fifty k
to just show up and play
been three weeks since i last scored
and yet i still don’t ask for more

V2

I don’t give a shit
if i even get a hit
cause my agent called me again today
and told the check clears either way

Chorus

Hot dogs and vodka
Wash it down with beer
smokies and caesers
i’ve never been so clear

Hot dogs and vodka
half dozen before each game
gimlets with hoagies
maybe thats why i’m so lame

V3

Sometimes I’ll admit
that i’ve done some crimes
stole a smokie from the cart
at granville street and vine …

Bridge 1

In fact, i’ve thiefed em
a couple dozen times
they hand it over
it just ain’t that hard
i load it with relish
and they ask for my two-nie
and by then and eating my napkin
and my lord i am running
i’m running, running, running …

 

V4

But it really don’t matter
if i get any fatter
i can still sweep the wreckage
from the coliseum aisles

V5

When they came out to scout me
they should’ve looked more closely
and discovered my true ambition
ahh the beers, … they steal all my affection

Bridge 2

Now here i toil
broke, sad and turmoiled
thinking of all the kids i let down
i sweep up your mess
and you can’t hardly guess
that i use to skate on that ice

Nine Dollar Buddha – Items: Forgotten in Drawers (vol. 2)

Nine Dollar Buddha – Items: Forgotten in Drawers
Nine Dollar Buddha – Items: Forgotten in Drawers

Fleeting wind…

Fleeting wind
whipping standard
falling with the sun

##

from Hotsprings and Stubbed Toe, Occasional haiku… 1992-2004

Download Hot Springs and Stubbed Toe (.pdf)

I Remain (Middle-aged punk)

I’ve finally
slept all night
and sort of
feeling right

i thought
i’d feel sad
but you’re gone
and i’m feeling  nothing but glad

I’d decided
that it might
be better
to give up the fight

When you and me broke
and at first I’ll admit
to no one else but you
it sucked more than a bit

But now you’re far
and i’m perplexed
but have time to think
when i’m not wrecked

Told myself
i’m better off
without the hassle
and all of the strife

C

You left
i stayed
in this life
we made

You split
i remained
but i’m convinced
i’m not ashamed

B

You said
you’ll move on
unconcerned
by the befuddlement
you left behind

 

Grandpa en route to Australia – Items: Forgotten in Drawers (vol. 2)

Grandpa en route to Australia – Items: Forgotten in Drawers
Grandpa en route to Australia – Items: Forgotten in Drawers

Close to Me

Come be close to me
Others will glance
Envy their vice
They know im entranced
Sit next to me and see
All eyes upon us
Wondering how we are famous
Somewhere else
“Such beauty” they’ll say under their breath
Your bare shoulders
Ciao bella, que bonita
Graceful, uncommon
And precisely as expected
As i braid your hair sitting behind
In a clawfoot cast iron bath
Porcelain as white as your feet
Perched at the end
Languid arms, pouty red lips
We are dancers, visions, lovers
Its so obvious, even the Italians agree
Whisper in your ear
As you lean in towards
My mouth, my dear
I kiss your arching neck
Write sonnets for you
Discover constellations
To name for you
Craft a jazz ballad
A wine well-vinted
A Pinot Noir as we are lovers
At night
And in the light
But in the dark stateroom
Ship swaying
An illegal candle bright
Reflects your eyes
So deep, so blue
Translucent as you show entire soul
Except for the secrets you hide
I’ll discover in time
Whenever you are ready
Decadence well-requited
Candle behind the wine glass
Exotic bottles behind the sad barman
He wants to trade lives with
The singer from Napoli
He’s a cliche but brings
Down the house
Kissing hands of ladies
Long since affectioned
A ruse indeed to garner
Fast-tracked seduction from
The supple and impressionable
Who seek swarthy despite the height
We’re a black and white movie
You in pearls
Me in a grey plaid suit

Poem: You play accordion…

You play accordion
I’ll play trombone
A pygmy goat for an audience
We’ll play slow songs alone