"Ten Word Autobiography" (P.o.t.D. 6/29/30, no rev)

Enjoys puzzles, games;
Bit cultured...
Many jobs held;
Suffering poverty.

"Haiku Hack" (P.o.t.D. 6/27/15, no rev)

I wrote a poem, see?!
With syllables all counted,
Yet no point was made.

"How We Roll.." (P.o.t.D. 6/25/15, no rev)

Sticky rice, rolled up tight
Upon a crispy, salty sheet of nori,
Snuggling with cucumbers, carrots,
Halibut perhaps - or other fish:
Ingested with the zesty tang of wasabi!

"Two minutes, Twice" (P.o.t.D. 6/23/15, no rev)

Two minutes: Go!
How fast can I type?
How fast can I think?

Of course, my critics
Will tear this idea apart -
Saying where's the flow of ideas..
Silly rule you're using..
and so on..

I do not know what
Will come from the race,
But an attempt to stream,
To bring the thoughts

Talking about what i want to talk about

...and timer rings.

So.. update my phone app,
For the next quest,
And I start the timer again.

Time is trickling past,
Sometimes roaring like rapids -
Eating away at the thread
Woven for my path
By the Three Fates

Time is one of my
Most valuable assets -
If I give you my time,
My attention,
my devotion..

then - damn. two minutes gone again.

"Cutting Cuts" (P.o.t.D. 6/22/15, no rev)

Cutting up in the kitchen
Cuts short my labored thoughts...

Cutting off his corn -
Cut to the chase -

Cutting hurts...
Cut deep,
Cuts.

"Bottom of the Can" (P.o.t.D. 6/21/15, no rev)

Disappointing grounds
Made coffee look, taste like tea -
Time to buy a can.

"Night Shift" (P.o.t.D. 6/20/15, no rev)

As rain trickled down,
Sleep swallowed the sunlight time -
Night finds me awake.

"Message to 45" (P.o.t.D. 6/17/17)

Sir, an angry mob
Sits on the lawn, demanding
That you stop tweeting...

"Celebrating Rain" (P.o.t.D. 6/16/16, no rev)

Happy about rains,
Plants stretch sweet flowers to me
Along walks to work.

"Haikus cry, 'Help me!'" (P.o.t.D. 6/16/15, no rev)

Feeling frustration,
Order mixes with chaos,
And dime poems are born.

"Roadkill" (P.o.t.D. 6/16/16, no rev)

A twisted skeleton
Beside busy highway -
Umbrella abandoned
When fierce rains made it splay,
Upward, outward, useless?

A corpse lays in the street -
Server's black cash apron,
Tossed away in the heat
Of mad furies from work,
When she was called useless...

So much trash, scattered 'round;
Relics of our culture
That one day will be found
By descendents, for sure,
Who cast us as useless.

"Writer's Lament" (P.o.t.D. 6/14/15, no rev)

The desire is an ashen ember -
Dying bonfire in the summer night -
As painful weariness draws out the tears
Sacrificed upon losing writer's fight.

"Feeling Fetal" (P.o.t.D. 6/13/15, no revs)

Huddled in my bed,
Hiding from some simple jobs –
Hindered by my mood.

"Icarus" (P.o.t.D. 6/13/17)

Sol melts the wax glue;
My fine plumage peels off, fast...
This bird falls, stripped bare.

"Times Unjust" (P.o.t.D. 6/12/16, rev 6/12/17)

Life has lost its luster,
Dulled by bickering fights,
Choosing from a menu
Chock full of bad diets.

Love tries finding its roots,
Cracking my stone-dead heart...
Bile rises instead
Choking on rocks apart...

This is a feeble piece -
Written, mindless, above -
Attempting to capture:
'Despair!' 'Ennui!' '...enough...'

Please, forgive, if you will -
Revile, if you must -
Poems written in anger
In these sad times unjust.

"Four subject words" (P.o.t.D. 6/11/15, rev 6/11/17)

Pick four words from the environment around you,
And write four fairly simple sentences,
Using them as the subject...

First attempt, following?

"So, I'm in the kitchen,
Typing away at my laptop,
Perched upon the dining table;
And I wonder why I signed up
For a grammar group?"

None the less, I'll give it a whirl,
Using books, computers, television, and the couch:

"As the unread books gather dust,
The television blares in the background,
And the couch sags under his sleeping weight.
Meanwhile, the computers sit idle,
Frozen upon webpages visited hours ago."

Revision - turning this into 4 simple sentences:

"All of the books are covered in dust.
A television blasts the room with sounds and scenes.
The couch sags under his sleeping weight.
Meanwhile, the computer's screen locks."

"Kotter's Groan" (P.o.t.D. 6/10/15, no rev)

My brain is pudding,
My muscles twitch and ache so,
Gray hairs - all speak age.

"Freedom of Speech, or Peace of Mind?" (P.o.t.D. 6/8/15, no rev)

Remaining silent,
The anger simmers, unheard -
Leave the post to trolls.

"Noise Disruptions" (P.o.t.D. 6/7/15, no rev)

Came home to silence,
Set up to start my writing –
Now, noisy house mates.

"Oh, Thank Heaven!" (written for contest: "Sandwish") (P.o.t.D. 6/6/15, no rev)

Sandwiches at the 7-Eleven
Live for only two days, or perhaps three,
Before they're written off to some heaven -
At least, that's what the dumpster divers see...

I could say, "Oh, so much more...", but, "Alas!"
By working there, my words face an impasse.

"Navigating Highs and Lows" (contest entry) (P.o.t.D. 6/2/15, no rev)

The summer that I just turned twenty-four,
A bipolar episode crossed my door...

Now that I have somehow turned forty-two,
I have learned tricks to appear sane to you.

Eighteen years of suffering strange mood swings
Has led to much pained wisdom that each brings.

"Beauty at Dusk"‏ (P.o.t.D. 6/1/15, no rev)

Bright spot at sunset -
Venus undressing, perhaps
Through bedroom windows?

"Chocolate Chips" (P.o.t.D. 5/31/15, rev 5/31/17)

I hide deep within the wings -
And life's crazy show goes on -
Manipulating some strings
That create effects brazen...

Will I step into spotlights?
Or remain unheard, unseen,
Masked by shades - dodging brights...
What has Fate cast that I've been?

"Obsession" (P.o.t.D. 5/29/15,no rev)

Wide awake with words
Swimming like subconscious sharks;
They make me mental.

acrostic... (P.o.t.D. 5/24/15, no rev)

Am I awake, or a sleeping zombie?
Nothing spins my mind like thought tornadoes -
Growing such grand replays within my head -
Enter people telling me that I'm wrong,
Reasoning with flawed logic, emotion...

Seems like science is under such attacks
Everywhere I look, without mercy,
Eroded by popular opinions
That won't face up to lining up the facts.
How has the wool been pulled over our eyes
Every day by snake-oil debaters?
Saddens me, that this - this is our culture...

"Strengthen, Oh Capillaries!" (P.o.t.D. 5/23/15, no rev)

Wouldn't it be nice
If poems flowed from my fingers
Like blood through my heart?

"sleep beckons" (P.o.t.D. 5/22/15, no rev)

Sleep beckons me back
To bed, to dream, to feel warmth,
To hide in covers.

"Under the Heel" (P.o.t.D. 5/21/15, no rev)

I feel such outrage
As the wealthy's money chase
Leaves me desolate.

"Sixth Street Saga" (P.o.t.D. 5/20/15, no rev)

Before the clock had struck barely past ten,
A painted up tart waggled her loose tongue,
And a fray spilled out from the seedy den
Over all the damage her words had done.

For them to regain order and control,
The cops passed through the crowd, on razor’s edge,
Binding and cuffing and bumping heads ‘til –
They wound up Plopping dozens behind bars.

As the wounded's anger fizzled and itched,
A palpable foul cloud permeated
The jail’s grid, leaving all on razor’s edge,
Wafting like a toxic substance, heated.

Hours later, the tart still drank at the bar,
While the angry men fumed in the dank cells
And the police kept the streets, under guard.
She’d make no money that night for “a nail”.

"Changing Our Tunes" - contest - The last analog generation (P.o.t.D. 5/19/15, rev 5/19/17)

When I was ten, and my brother fifteen,
We'd wage war with plastic models reworked.
His flagship? A SR-71
With a launching bay for a small fighter...
That was '82, when we played vinyl.

The summer I turned nineteen, I played games,
Like Battletech, at a fantasy con,
With friends I had met a few weeks before
Through BBS networks, across Dallas...
'91, and walkmans still held some sway.

I was 28, living like Spartans
With roommates who would play lots of board games.
Strange that no computer was always on,
We couldn't afford that necessity...
2000, probably CD's last years.

Now, I'm 42, though youths would not know
How that's the "Answer", because they don't read
Anything beyond their Facebook news feed.
Alas, I find myself playing phone games...
Today, we download and skip radio.

"Feeling Dirty" (P.o.t.D. 5/18/15, no rev)

Blood, sweat, dirt and more -
Feels like they’re a second skin,
Not letting me breathe.

"Catatonic Conundrum?" (P.o.t.D. 5/15/15, no rev)

Falling into a deep slumber,
No dreams appear, no midnight thoughts
Of me gently sawing lumber -
Oh, but that's a low, growling snore,
And there's plenty of that in store
Which I still do not remember...

It's sad that I no longer dream,
As dreams are icing on the cake,
Irish tea with decadent cream:
Food for my poor beleagured soul -
They help rest my mind, make it whole,
Give insanity a good trim...

I hear tale, that I do mumble
As my mind in its restless rest
Does blindly wander and stumble.
I feel I cling to waking hours,
And even when upon my bower,
As reflex to talk, I grumble.

"Oh, the Senseless Death!" (P.o.t.D. 5/13/15, no rev)

'Nother squirrel dead,
Seen on the walk to my house..
Must they cross the street?

untitled (P.o.t.D. 5/12/15, no rev)

Sky crying, leaves tears
On ground - dying leaves stuck here,
Not flying: seeds' gear?

"Hallmark" (P.o.t.D. 5/10/15, no rev)

Is it another Hallmark holiday?
Mothers and fathers and lovers and more
Are sent cards, given dinner - loved this way...
Hopefully, it does not feel like a chore.
It would be nice to be thankful each day,
Alas, we forget, most days, to be sure.

"Whispers, Like Thunder" (P.o.t.D. 5/9/15, no rev)

Sharp intake of breath!
She saw me admiring her -
Surely, she smiled back!

"Where do I go from here?" (P.o.t.D. 5/8/15, no revs)

Some times, we just want to get out and skate,
Not caring about careers, or ladies -
Just riding the board, doing tricks 'til late.

Some times, we will take time out for the gym,
To push and pull machines and their weighties,
To stretch our bodies' muscles to their lim...

You see, we don't want to live in our head
When we can play board games with our maties
And chuckle when their armies are all dead.

You see, men get quite a lot of their joy
Reliving our youth, back in the eighties -
Simple times, when each of us was a boy.

"In the Shower" (P.o.t.D. 5/6/15, no rev)

Hot water cascades
Upon oily skin, washing 'way
Workday's exhaustion.

"The Smoking Feline" ( P.o.t.D. 5/5/15, no rev)

"'Twas no ordinary feline,
Rather an assassin divine -
Skilled at striking birds from the skies,
With her claws, sharp as steely knives;
Or, if the birds flew out of reach,
Then, swift with blowpipe, she could breach
Their feathered breasts in single blows,
Sending their souls where God 'lone knows."

(waiting to see if I can post the picture that inspired this, over here)

"Poverty Laments" (P.o.t.D. 5/4/15, no rev)

Life becomes much harder when I'm so poor.
I worry on how I'll catch up on rent,
I can't buy food at the grocery store...
Where, oh where, has all of my money went?

I'm kept under thirty hours at my job,
Paid close to the minimum hourly wage -
So on healthcare.gov, I can still shop,
But without employer help, I do rage!

Sixteen dollars per month, earned in food stamps
Do not stretch very far - maybe four meals?
Does not eating right lead to muscle cramps?
I don't know. Doctor's fees are so unreal.

So, that's a peek at my painful pinches
Of poverty, at which my heart wrenches.

"Two Bee Attempts" (P.o.t.D. 5/1/15, no rev)

To fly, like a bee,
From hive to flowers, all day,
Working to make food.

Or...

Flying amidst fields of fertile flowers,
I gather pollen, all through the day's hours,
Only to return to my humble home,
To feed queen and larvae who cannot roam.

"Dune Reference?" (P.o.t.D. 4/30/15, no rev)

Fear - the mind killer -
Leads us to ill-thought actions
With later regrets.

"Bemoaning Work" (P.o.t.D. 4/29/15, no rev)

Stocking groceries
Took longer than expected,
Left time constricted.

"Talking About the Weather" (P.o.t.D. 4/28/15, no rev)

A damp chill crept into town, late last night,
Riding forth on the backs of slate grey clouds -
Casting grave portents of much rain, today
To bless the fields and their flowering crowds.

"What the Nose Knows" (P.o.t.D. 4/27/15, rev 4/27/17)

The pungent smell
Of dirt, sweat, and toilet
Tells the poors' tale
Of living on the street,
When, sharing city bus,
Did we happen to meet.

"Ten Year Chip" (P.o.t.D. 4/26/15, no rev)

The brass medallion holds a bit of weight,
Engraved with an "X" for ten sober years -
Some quite happy, and others not so great -
Earned today after much laughter and tears.

"Exhausted" (P.o.t.D. 4/25/15, no rev)

It's one of those days,
When I'm wore out from my job
And writing is tough.

"Threshold" (P.o.t.D. 4/24/15, no rev)

A desire to describe dreams deferred
When writing is now a wrangling of each word -
How then will my hopeless heart be heard?
Be still, my soul, to soar like the black bird...

"Thursday Morn" (P.o.t.D. 4/23/15, rev ???)

I come to, after a long nap, barely listening
To "Henry V" playing on the radio at 5 a.m.

Realizing the game on my phone needs attention,
I putter around there for two and a half hours,
Burning former alliance members, to train more troops.
I don't know when I'll commit to a war.

I go in to my room, to get dressed for the day,
When the end table between the beds collapses,
Startling my new room mate awake.
I take five minutes to reassemble it all from the wreckage.

I make my way to a long-forgotten AA meeting,
Where I'm greeted with hugs and hellos all around.
Ten years ago, I committed to fight this inner war;
And I've reassembled my life from quite a wreckage...
Not on my own power, though,
But with the aid of quite a community,
And powers unforeseen, well outside of my control.

Now, I'm home again,
To eat, do laundry, shower, clean,
And perform various other chores and commitments,
That I may find myself in a better place,
To awaken again, to stirring words and undampened courage.

defeating the purpose?

coffee stirs my mind up,
when it wants to wind down -
now watch my resentments
spin wildly, round and round...

"Global Warming Haiku" (P.o.t.D. 4/22/15, no rev)

Stewing in our filth,
Heat creeps up, slowly, deadly -
Cockroaches rejoice!

"Finding My Boyhood Kindness..." (P.o.t.D. 4/20/15, no rev)

Why does the crawling cockroach scare me so?

The hairs on my skin bristle at the thought
Of that bug touching me with prickly legs!
So I would end its brief life's crawl without
Second thoughts, claiming, "Oh! But it lays eggs!"

As a young boy, I would embrace bugs, frogs,
Snakes, and other non-mammals with such glee!
Did I grow wiser, as I aged, because
Bites and stings can cause pain - that I now see?

Yet I've grown softer now, and show respect
For all the many lives beyond my own.
Show them to the great outdoors, to infect
Some other boy, with new wonders he's shown.

"Pity Party" (P.o.t.D. 4/19/17)

My lonely heart, pining away...
Feelings fester, drive me to say,
"None will come close to me, today..."

"Casting Words" (P.o.t.D. 4/19/17)

What words will you wield,
While wearing ones, once whispered
With such bitter stings?

"Questioning Leisure" (P.o.t.D. 4/19/15, no rev)

Is it time wasted,
To play games, and write these poems,
When those give me joy?

"Pollen sucks." (P.o.t.D. 4/18/15, no rev)

Look! Pretty flowers -
"Ack! Ack! Thbbt..." (They're killing me,
These damn allergens...)

rantin, before midnight....

there's this low level anxiety
just eating away at my sanity

worried the president will trigger a world war
while he gleefullly cuts and slashes
his way through decades of regulations,
some good some out of date
god damn it, though, i think
they all want to reinvent the wheel
under some guise of one moral code?

i want environmental regulations,
yet i'm indifferent to sex conduct
and i hate to watch education
being sold to the cheapest dollar

i know not about finances
or immigrants despised
or little old ladies
losing money to live their lives

well, i know what internet memes
shout at every corner of the web,
all the fester, when not tied to... facts?

i despair, i lose hope,
i wallow in misery
because i can not see
how i can change the world:
does a phone call, or a march,
have any real impact -
do i have the energy to join in,
or is it just protesting too much?

so, there's that -
frustrations abound your government..
not mine! I voted for the Democrats.
...and i'm sure there's those out there
who would strip me five ways to Sunday
for playing in to the two-party system.

bringing it back to my hula hoop -
i want to be loved, cherished, and respected...?

i want to spend my evenings with friends,
telling about our days' adventures...

I want to date an elegant lady,
who doesn't write me off, for living in poverty...

I want to weigh 180..160..140..?
whatever weight eliminates this belly...

yet again, i feel imprisoned
by my present -
afraid to flirt,
because I don't want to harass;
yet feeling I will be overlooked,
never approached,
because i'm trying wo live outside the old mold
"a common refrain, going back to the 80's"

i can see it now,
being chastised and chided,
by some of my closest friends:
"Why don't you take the initiative?"
...and as I sink into a deep, dark oubliette,
my parting thought is still,
"No lady will reach out, directly,
Because they're fighting polite society..."

Oh, and because i'm fat,
And rather insane, more days than not,
And old and poor
and beating up on myself
for all the unattractive qualities
i'm weighing myself down with...

i'm this geek,
who was pushed into the stoner circle,
because he cut off a cop at a light
after deinking a 6-pack in 30 minutes...
I often think that my drinking and drugging arc
was cut short, way before I thought it was a problem

...and i'm a geek..
i like to play D&D and Euro games,
I enjoy reading in the sciences
and using public media
and i seem to miss the cues
that make conversation so effortless for y'all.

i'm told i don't need to base my happiness
on other people's opinions,
and i twist that up in my mind,
thinking I've just been told to be a hermit
(...and i wonder why friends and family never call...)
[perhaps because i'm lost in my electronics]

"Separation Anxiety..?" (P.o.t.D. 4/17/15, no rev)

Seasons roll on, in this cycle of life.
Despite our clinging to those brief moments,
The Reaper will swing wide his razor scythe
And separate us from our sharp torments.

"Personal ad?" (P.o.t.D. 4/13/15, no rev)

Seeking some good words
To entertain all my friends
In my daily poems.

"'Alone!', he wails..." (P.o.t.D. 4/13/08, rev 6/24/17)

Restrain tongue and pen, in work and in play --
Emotions checked, yet lusty obsessions
Simmer, seeking to have their ugly say.
Public, private perspectives, perceptions
Entwined, interwoven, in tangled skein.
Confusing courage with cries of caution,
Tangled I am found, again and again -
I am lost in deontic ties that bind.
Now... do I cross antiquated fences,
Gaining insight, facing fears, in my mind?

Before, I would "sit in solemn silence",
Overcome my feelings, yet... highstrung... tense -
Untold wreckage building upon my soul,
Never once did I feel complete and whole.
Dwelling in a pure ivory tower,
And discontent... alone... each midnight hour.
Reason only took me farther - too far -
Inside self, loves buried in aching heart,
Encamped, enclosed, entrapped, entombed "in a
Steel cage" - a lean role sans sensual sin.

Inhibitions: respect? ... or overcome?
Note, then, the true fears from among the sum.

Look... Listen... Love... and the world unfolds!
Infinite nuances will be revealed,
From which billions of stories can be told -
Experiences that can truly heal.

Everyone has a story to tell;
Stories so deep, they cause my heart to swell!
Pensive, I will miss their insights around
Even though, like armies, do they surround.
Circled by artisans, artists, arsons;
Igniting passions, felt by all senses.
Around my prison of independence
Lay self-centered lies from self-sufficience;
Leading me to forget growth from "my mind,
Your mind, learning when we are intertwined".

Ignoring others, I find I become
Narcistic, pessimistic... my thoughts, numb.

Life is too short to live in a ship's hold;
Overcome, I must, these imagined seals!
Voyeuer, no more - engage others, be bold -
Enrich my life, sharing others' ordeals!