Not Me and the Wild Inside

Hello Not Me and the Wild Inside
Let's go for dinna', take a little ride.
We'll spill a glass or two down the uber-tight pants
Raise a little hell and rant a little rant.

To Mexico nights and the dirty seven sins
Nevermind the trouble I haven't been in.
Let's take a vacation from our dull pointless selves
We'll fuck like two bunnies the way to dirty hell.

Belly to the bar boy and two for the girls
A dark homemade brew to kill all that ills.
We will smile for the camera though nobody cares
Everyone smiles while you pull her hair.

Same for the hookers, all whores inside
It isn't a game if it won't hurt your pride
Vladivostok monkeys alive on the beach
Infinite tranquility just out of reach.

Fr'nd 'f m'ne.

For George, Keeper of Strange Time
and Internal Angers...and Sarah, an imaginary girlfriend
who was once a love of mine.

Ballet dancer is perhaps the strangest
but some work in retail, restaurants too.
A Marine perhaps the most hardcore of them all
but he may be the gentlest.

If your mind bends to the homosexual side
no...unless you want it that way.
And hundreds of sailors
only some of them a Ginsberg type.

Everything on this page is for you.

Lots work on theatrics and music and shows!
Some jugglers, but I have seen better and once a
Hollywood producer...but that was a deeper catalyst.
Weightlifters, bicyclers, walkers, and sitters.

Wives of good men and husbands of
Fat women. Food lovers too.
Chefs even, with a dash of dishwashers
and waitresses or general servants.

Growers of pot and makers of beer
Players of games and closet ninjas
A sardonic sweetheart whose
back may have broken but she never did.

A maker of the important music too
Who whiles away thinking:

"Someday they will understand. Those fucks!"
And while he does not know, I do.
While he rejects the academy, I do.
But I spend the man's time at sea...

Enough about me to the imaginary
Baseball fans and underwear dealers,
Concert-goers, and potential blowers of mind
who made me smile so long ago.

Guilty ones too I know because they brought
drunk girlfriends to frat house bedrooms
and secreted away handles while the
vomit flowed freely and the smokers smoked.

Its hard not to mention that side
because that side was always there.

The danger was present but we missed it
or rather avoided it by our own
wits-at-the-line that we pushed.
Eventually you stopped avoiding.

Remember how they formed little piles
and with orange juice we would fly into
Christmas light evenings and the joy
of the flesh of the earth.

I had to cook to get through
that but we still devised and played
music that echoed our content
discontent with all around.

Our frustration grew and ballet dancers freaked
singers still sang but it was different, weirder
travel became a part of me, meaningless sex
and pursuits which lead to pain.

She moved away, but not because of me.
I still miss her because...
One day I realized that we all are great fr'nds.

Unplan

Let's build a daydream palace
of ideas one hundred times
less droll than day to day
Political ramblings.

And as we toil away for our future
comfort we can all remember times
when life was simple and enjoyable
can't we?

Chemical fume free green palace
Vegetable heaven or something fresh
a dance floor made of dancing,
singers singing, guitars and bliss
two or more places for love.

No steel girders here
too rusty
No aluminum either
too much oxide
No wood
Too guilty
No fabric
Too illustrious
and if it was manufactured
outside the palace then
it was probably made by unhappy
and unwitting children.

Lets build a daydream then
or perhaps just a dream
little nothings everywhere
... so serene.

Booze Part IV

Veiled freedom in the drink
Being a Way to speak kindly to them
Who when sober I speak nothing or worse.

Passages in pursuit, should I be?
I walk drifting then dreaming of times more like the old days
These old days I have never been a part of
But feel the lack of triumph and satisfaction in my heart.

Sometimes I want to push to the line
Fight myself to it, the line, and jump
Seek the syphilis like it could grant me power
Know the gutter so that it could show me the path.

A day or so later I want nothing but the mattress
forever there to rest the hard path being the wrong one
seeking abrupt cut off from the light.

Sleep and inhibitions suffer
I am embarassed at my kindness
go back to deeper silence
gone back to worse.

Nippon

We can relish in the wonders of
foreign soil, the oddities and attractions
the differences in people, in culture
the samenesses in people.

We can taste of the richness of otherness
exploit the good and leave the bad
eat the hot soup on a hot day
sweat through our shirts the exoticness

We can all live together by force
or by sheer will of peace or
sheer will of god, or whatever.

We will consume.

Booze Part III

It was loneliness

As vomit squeezed from my throat
with anger and sadness in dizzying
repetitious alternations
painful and all directed inward.

Physiological responses to poison
spurred psychological responses
to the deed I had rendered upon
my poisoned body.

It was loneliness

That forced tears from
my eyes to a dirty towel that
was next to me on the bathroom floor
and all this I knew, was either the end
or the beginning of hell.

That day and the next
was proof.

Tired and Cash Broke

Bad days get better
and good days get worse
always thinking
plotting
calculating

Bay days get worse
good days too
so stop thinking
of ways to escape.

Relish in the badness
and the goodness
swim in it all
till your guts hurt
and then some

Humor me...

To the Sea. Part I

The deep blue of the vast sea beckons
its hand guiding my soul
taking my mind through its depth
preparing for underway.

And I contemplate the daydream ecstasies
of sailing forth with joy to see
the shores, be they peopled,
deserted, windward, or lee.

I contemplate the nightmare war guns real
missiles, sinking ships flooding steel
massive storms and heavy nights
scared cold panic soaked with fright.

I mind the solemnity of open water sail
of which sailors have spun yards of tale
and a solo voyage someday I'll take
100 nautical miles a day I'll make

I think of her who I may sail with for days
my love my lady, with me in the waves
and dancing, she dances her sweet dance with me
I think of her love and my life with the sea.

Let It All Go.

Hello Audience...

I am allowed to speak to you from here,
peering down upon your beautiful faces,
hoping that every word I say
will somehow brighten your day

while simultaneously elevating me to a position
where I could reach an even greater audience,
thus allowing me to use the energy I glean from performing

to cause supreme
pleasure amongst
throngs of intelligent
humans.

IV

Its a quick escape
a hole to climb down in
It can be made comfortable or
quick and painful.

She's Your Baby plays
in the background
and like all sweet songs
it touches the heart.

Sing sweetly wake swiftly
singer of song musician.
Poet craft poems until the days end.
All days end contemplator.

Be ready, be here
smile more, sing more
listen, breath, mind.

Whay

Night
inside me
stirs sublime
past lives,

is it past pain
driving memories
or memory
motivating nostalgia?

Impermanent
as is the earth and sun
I slowly age,
waiting for something

hoping feels good
allowing myself to hope.

Deny yourself not the joys of hope! I think
enjoying the stars and the chill
of the sudden southern cold
wondering whether to live in the moment,
future, or past.

Thank you night sky
for your assistance.

To: Papa Shooter

Hows life in Brown Town?

Is it full of frowns
or dancing clowns.
Is it all yesterdays and grim
or futures full, nice tits and slim?

Have the back woods slime bags come for you yet?
Have the purveyors of plastic shit forced your bets?
Or have you sustained a pattern of boldness
Kindness, happiness, never-grow-oldness?

But don't sweat monkey men, our steady steaming shit
is natural sons and daughters fat, so eat your fill of it
fill your bellies on feces fresh and fill your kids' plates too
for all be told; eating shit is better than shit eating you.

Booze Part II

Got all drunk
tired stumbling
barely could walk
some assholes wanted to

throw down
so I killed them with
a small knife
I keep with me.

What really happened
was some of my buddies
who smelled like shit
vomit and beer and coffee

pushed me to the rear
while the guys who started
called the cops.

Excellent Reading.

I heard this question posed in a class:

What is more important the book itself or the review?

Robert Creeley Review/History. Good Read!

I's Sorry Self.

I's sorry self
for letting
fade you

for giving up you
especially in your
worst time of need

when youd have me
being all of what
I would hate for you

you see I jus' can't
jus' couldn't
be what youd have me be

so get yo' greedy
mean vain ass
out my head!

Blurb.

Its been a while child
since we last spoke
since then I've seen some ways

porter lifts baggage
ships haze gray

If too long means anything
or if there is a way back when
Its been a touch too little
and way too long
since love surrounded men.

Navy School Morn to Eve

Sleep Sleep
Wake March
Run
Eat March
Study March
Eat March
Study March
Change
Eat
Play Write
Talk Write
Sleep.

When You Look At the Stars, Girl.

Stare,
mindful of the vastness
of the space engulfing all.

Speak,
softly to mine ear
that you may melt my soul.

Turn,
and with your eyes
pull me from my sleep.

Do,
what turns your life
from mundane into a dream.