Nothing Is Write

Felt tip pens
are not
the only things
that mean anything
anymore.

Sometimes
there’s a bit of chalk
that gets stuck in your teeth
if you try eating it.

I wouldn’t recommend that.

Waving

I just waved at
some random person
in a group of people
walking by.

I don’t know the guy.
He waved back though…
Kind of flailed his arms.
I think he was just glad
to know he isn’t invisible.

Written Nov. 12, 2009

Convincing

Silverfish swim upstream.
That’s probably not true
in the slightest.

If you’re confident enough,
anything sounds truthful.

People never sneeze only three times.

Written Oct. 24, 2019.

If At First…

Trial and error.
That’s what they say.
Neither of those,
however,
sound like positive
things to me.

You win some,
You lose some.
Now there’s a phrase
that has a sense of balance.
That’s something
I can get behind.

Not this nonsense
about trying
and fucking up.

Although, that is
a far more realistic
approach to life.

And people call me
a pessimist.

Nature’s Litter

Why do leaves have to
fall all over the ground?

I understand the whole
rejuvenation thing…
but couldn’t it be
a little less messy?

I just don’t like
having to rake up
someone else’s mess.

Written Oct. 24, 2019

Turn It

“Just turn it.
Twist it to the left.
No, turn it harder.”

“I can’t get it to budge.”

Lying on my back
Under a giant vehicle
Was not how I wanted
To spend my afternoon.

But there I was
Listening to the voices
In the death trap above,

Unaware they had just
Run me over.

Iced Ground White

If rain is God’s tears,
Then what is snow?

They say that
Each one of us is unique,
Like a flake of snow
Falling from the sky.
No two are alike
And every one is beautiful
In their very own way.

And then, as we die,
One by one,
We dissolve into the earth
And the process begins again.

But within a year,
Everyone has forgotten
About the snow.

Turn Signals

A car just drove by.

It had turn signals
that blinked at different speeds.

Someone must have planned that,
but I can’t imagine why.

Written Oct. 24, 2019

A Plan For Poetry

Something I did to myself many years ago — eleven to be exact — was force myself to write one poem every week. Observational, sometimes absurd, I wrote one per week for an entire year.

So here I am again, with a new blog, a new year, and a new pair of knickers… And what better way to ring in the roaring twenties than with anther year of running out of ideas for poems?

I’ll be posting one new poem per week, unless of course I forget, in which case the following poem will be about how I forgot… I expect it to be an entertaining and occasionally arduous experience for us all.

Amidst all the newly penned thoughts and observations, I will be re-posting all of the older poems I wrote way back when, simply for the sake of moving them to this new blog, and away from the old one, which is relatively inaccessible by now.

So here’s to a lot of absurdity, and I apologize in advance for some of the things I’m likely to write.

The Little Things

Work. Eat. Sleep.
Work. Eat. Sleep.

It seems like we’ve lost
The simple things
That make life worth living.

I can’t even recall
The last time
I punched someone
Just for the sheer joy.