we're wobbly

we're wobbly

our bodies are apart

never heard your voice

someone said you were female

you wrote an e-mail

you didn't know a person

my misleading phonetic spelling 

two panes of broken cafe glass later

you suggest you'll visit

it must have impressed you

you told your comrades about me

interested in my knowledge

but fickle like a typhoon

sent my needless location

 changed your direction

fear me not the brain police

confusion's on our side

you can't figure us out

you don't have to be worried

only laugh at our disorganization

we are wobbly

 

8-27-13

 

 

 



"we are the dead," Winston said

"we are the dead," Winston said

"we are the dead," Julia re-stated

"you are the dead," Charrington waited

  dread what's imbedded in your head

 

Maslow's hierarchy of needs

basic, safety, social, esteem

no one needs or believes your station

let the proles take a vacation
 
personal projects getting together

outweighing occurances' satisfaction
 needing friends and relations
 one big union's your only salvation

unity is power, scabs are useless
one or the other without any doubt 
without it you're toothless
you've got to be ruthless

you've come so far to pay your dues
an organization reflecting your views
 down the line pass the news
 sitting on it will give you the blues

"we are the dead," Winston said
"we are the dead," Julia re-stated
"right," said Charrington waiting
enjoy while you can, breath is baiting

8-25-13


 

 



i can't care for others that ignore me

i can't care for others that ignore me

i'd rather be harrassed, raped, or robbed

i just don't exist to this fifty year old stranger

not that there's anything wrong with that

but i'm not concentrating where he distracted me

with a choice of a million places to park

now where did he go; i didn't follow

and wasn't he here the same time yesterday

or was it another fairly new white scooter

he left his helmet on the floor board

now he's back, looking relieved

must have walked off to pee's what i think

now his helmet's back on, engine started

he's driving away on the bike path

 good riddance

 

i can't care for those who don't ignore me

the young man on a scooter who honks the horn

and shouts 'hello' as he passes by

the man on a bicycle who risks crashing to get a look at me

and the pretty young woman who is discreet

to talk and take a chance i'm disengaged

stops her scooter to see how i'll react

drives away when i don't pay attention

and when i look lost, oh what an opportunity

to meet, to help, to maybe befriend me

i wish i was lost but i can't make believe

i know too well where my going will lead

to death, enjoy life the best until death

with one partner, one rider, one lover

others may wish and look for it

i needn't any longer bother

 

8-20-13

 

 

 

 



in this part of the molding Han

in this part of the molding Han

starting to smell like a musty old mop

recent stones reveal covered lines of dampness

egrets take advantage of low pools

waters slowly and quietly zig-zagging downstream

across it a dog may walk without wetting paws

 regrowth weeds and wildflowers on shores

back-hoed away only two months before

the river pauses

awaiting the typhoon

the air above it sucked skyward

into the future vortex

 bicycle tubes turn mushy

as air pressure drops

the sun stinging the back of my neck

and perspiration evaporates with haze

 the days soon become dizzy with wind

the rain, torrential, covering all

but for now

egrets enjoy a free river meal

off the bumpy Han tablecloth

8-19-13

8-19-13



i'm feeling like riding away

i'm  feeling like riding away

home's a tying me up

i'm bothering you, you're bothering me

when's it gonna stop?

 

i'm dreaming of another trip

you want to stay inside

annoying words from your mouth slip

there's no way i can hide

 

i'm seeing the forest for the trees

you want to settle in

you think our journey's over

i'm raring to begin

 

when you say i'm whining

you cannot hear my plea

i want you wine and dining

you want me across your knee

 

i cook the food,

i clean the house

and this is how you pay me back

for all my kind unselfish loving deeds?

 

well let's not wait,

 i'll find you yet

and when i do i'll put us in a P.L.A.N.E..

you lovely slut

 

and i'm going to take us away, ha-ha...

8-19-13

 

 



150 two-sided pages of 1984

where can i put 150 two-sided pages

of 1984

 singularly

that would annoy, alarm,

but not be ignored?

it would have to be among non-alphabetics

to stand out clear

in places that English is hated or revered

to be noticed

though uncomprehendable

even in Chinese, Arabic, or Urdu

one could plainly see

1-9-8-4

who would know what it means

without reading the words?

only thinkers

teachers in America

would tell students

it's about them - not U$

the world knows

it's U$

 

8-13-13



The only poem from Brooklyn

a fall from the bike stings the right leg

a bug bite itches the left

a dark cloud's squeezing a rain drop

out of two translations of La Sagouine

and i can't read the original French

a laugh floats over a fence between us

i hear it

you saw my flowers on your property

took them back and anger steamed

i don't smile as laughter floats

empty basement rooms

feel them one by one

like cracks in the wall of love

nothing leaks better left un-shook

what was that he took?

mopping up, making repairs

the fact i'm fixing shows i care

no one's moving in

and no one there

do i want to feel like it's complete

or incomplete with more to come

it's all fun and it's all sweet

watching it come undone

7-24-13

what is making that annoying sound?

what is making that annoying sound

when i'm peddling the bike?

ticking off each revolution

ti-tick ti-tick ti-tick

it can't be gotten rid of

at least it's not my body

 it's in my head

ti-tick ti-tick dead

get it out, mechanical prick

like a factory worker's daily schtick

not a flapping of wings

or step by step stroll

ti-tick ti-tick ti-tick

 my woman whose ragging

her monthly wages

turning men into monsters

and fools into sages

 books full of pages

kept turning and learning

at least to conclusions

tick tick tick tick

Han water knows

it's better when it flows

8-11-13



George's hand shook violently

George's hand shook violently

to end the pain

that Lennie would have had

in an American court of law

or tied to a bed post

in a psychiatric institution

George used Slim's gun

that Lennie hadn't stolen

and said the gun

was Lennie's last feel

if life was real

but life's not real

when it's hand to mouth

it's really bad

really bad out

8-10-13

Mark drums the band

Mark drums the band

like i sing the river

his listeners drunk and smoking

my waters young and flowing

Mark cannot hear me sing

the bar is loud and noisy

i can't hear him drumming

the children are riding

our English rollercoaster

the barflies forget

the river remembers

8-10-13 

tried to enter nature

tried to enter nature

know the forest for the trees

names of trees - what they are

smell the freshy cut hay in the pasture

realizing it's weeds tomahawked by fish gut

 i ride the bike path

the hell it is

 red brick road's not bricks at all

but red cement rectangles

 young motorcyclists

try to enter nature - just try

 need some cash to

 watch the Han flowing

retired in a foreign land

 canteen and kick-stand

try to enter nature

with nature out-of-town

entranced at the entrance

dream snapped shut

every time motor wheels whiz behind me

i face the river

hoping a door will appear

to enter nature

 

8-8-13

 



singularly none yet all be done

singularly none yet all be done

not a gang to call my own

home for a husband who is seeded

a place to win when a union's defeated

egg safely put into another basket

when the baggage that ties men down

leaves no choice but to mask it

 

stone upon stone the bridge be done

never a crew but still transgressed

a river to cross, somewhere to go

forded alone when the marsh is slow

see the path of your same old ground

give up hope that you'll be found

 

George had his Lennie to dote upon

and i a wife for all i can give

made it through, what does it do me?

random rocks singularly come

wherever a back hoe pushes them

there a river still runs

 

8-7-13