Im gonna be in town in September. I am going to get Snave to get me near you so I can finally shake hands with one of the best current poets I've read in a long time.
--Carmen Nishimura

"We buy things we don't need with money we don't have in order to impress people we don't like."--Dave Ramsey

"I'm an egomaniac with an inferiority complex."--12 Step Thought


Maybe it's you

The temperature is hot,
but my blood sugar level reading is low.
I've got no money, so there is nowhere
to go.
Wait a minute, so much is free,
I'm only limited by the things
that I think can be.
I wasn't a Deadhead when the Dead were alive,
but many years later I'm falling for their vibe.
When the temperature cools down,
I'm going to take the dogs out on the town.
I've never had a better date,
wait that isn't true, there was you.
I remember when we went for that walk
on a cool fall day, too bad all the good times
seem to always fade away.**
Summer rhymes with bummer, but I'm having
a good day.
The words are going well, the weight is
slowing disappearing, and I've already
been on the Yoga mat, once, today.
I hope that you are smiling.
I hope that all your dreams come true.
I don't know who I m talking to,
maybe it's you.

**This was a madeup part.
Posted by mikel k poet at 5:05 PM 0 comments Links to this post
"Borders are political lines drawn by other people."--Lady on the TV News Program
Posted by mikel k poet at 2:30 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Everybody has a role to play

The protester protests.
The cop puts a lid on
the protesting.
We never see the pictures,
on regular t.v.
Posted by mikel k poet at 2:28 PM 0 comments Links to this post
I never realized that size mattered

I never realized that class size mattered,
when I was in class.
I didn't realize that I was getting screwed
in public schools.
I was always told that if I paid attention,
and studied, that I could make straight A's.
Posted by mikel k poet at 2:25 PM 0 comments Links to this post
The administration is avoiding common sense approaches," when it comes to its approach to education.
Posted by mikel k poet at 2:18 PM 0 comments Links to this post
The K News

We need our cluster bombs,
that's why we won't
sign the treaty banning them.
President Obama just "quietly" signed
a bill that allots 27 billion dollars
to the wars in A and I: The Peace President.
The U.S. has now spent over a trillion dollars
on these wars.
I bet the men and women who sell arms
are fat, and happy.

Source: http://www.linktv.org/programs/demo
Posted by mikel k poet at 2:10 PM 0 comments Links to this post
She told me to meet her at the airport; when she knew that she was driving in by car.
Posted by mikel k poet at 1:22 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Prisoner inside love

I watched your window.
You changed the lock
to your door.
I listened for your breathing'
you refused to talk anymore.
I gazed into your eyes,
you shut them
never to open them again.
I offered you whiskey,
you said that you only drink wine.
I extended my hand to you,
you raised a fist in the air.
You kept up this behavior,
and soon I wasn't there.
Posted by mikel k poet at 12:05 PM 0 comments Links to this post
A thousand kisses deep

If you were to drag me through the snow,
I'd gladly go
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:44 AM 0 comments Links to this post
I'm your miracle worker, baby
I really got it going on.
I'm your miracle worker, baby
you know that I am the one.
I'm your miracle worker, baby,
open the door, and let me in.
I'm your miracle worker, baby,
to love me ain't no sin.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:33 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Put me in your layaway box

You put me in your layaway box, baby,
and then you forgot about me.
You said, when we met, that our love
would always grow,
and then you put me in your layaway box,
and you forgot about me.
I thought that no price could be put upon
our love,
but you put me in your layaway box,
and then you just walked away.
I love the way you hold me, baby,
but you ain't held me in awhile.
I love the way you kiss me baby,
but I ain't even seen your smile,
since you put me in this lay away box,
and you walked away, and forgot about me, baby.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:10 AM 0 comments Links to this post
A prayer

He said in his song that, "Love is strong."
I looked in the mirror, and said to myself,
"Lord what am I doing wrong?"
Then I prayed in whispers,
because I didn't want no one but the Lord to hear,
"Please give me a love, Lord."
And then I waited for her to appear.
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:28 AM 0 comments Links to this post
I'm feeling fine

I might be in the rise of my decline
but I'm feeling fine; I'm feeling finer
than I've ever felt. Something about
the purity of the morning; something about
knowing my standing in this world.
I sit around a lot, and scribble.
Much of it might be dribble, but I like
to dribble anyway. I like my eggs
the way I like them. I walk the dogs
when I want to. I don't smoke dope
like Muddy waters. I don't drink gin
like the old blues men used to in Chicago.
I'm feeling fine; use to be out of my mind.
I'm feeling fine; looking forward to
another beautiful new day. I'm feeling fine.
I'm feeling fine. I'm feeling fine.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:35 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Just an average kid

I was born a rebel in Hartford, Ct.
so long ago, now, that all those
who I grew up with there
have probably forgotten about me.
I did nothing out of the ordinary there,
made good grades because it was expected of me
played basketball, and tennis because I wanted to,
drank a pint of blackberry brandy in the tenth grade
on my way to my first high school dance
blacked out, and was accused of hitting the principal
in the school bathroom, where I was puking my guts out.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:22 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Always a price

"Free pussy," was her picture caption,
and I said to myself, "Pussy is never free."
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:22 AM 0 comments Links to this post
SATURDAY, JULY 31, 2010
There is but a wall between us
but it might as well be a million miles
something is going on
Posted by mikel k poet at 12:32 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Cereal for breakfast is tasty.
This morning I have put organic milk
and half a banana in it/on it.
The cereal that I am eating, this morning,
is crunchy.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:42 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Neha

05:35Me
(:
05:35Neha
how are you?

05:37Me
Just waking. Happy to see a new day, and you?
05:37Neha
I am about to have lunch
wonderful day it is here
I am having oats
05:38Me
Oats are great. I often have them for breakfast.
05:39Neha
me too
05:40Me
Where are you? What country?
05:40Neha
I live in India
05:41Me
It is supposed to be so beautiful there. We have talked of Prune, and Iyengar before...
05:41Neha
yeah...it is very beautiful here...
yes, I remember he is a yogacharya
05:42Me
yes
I study his style here
05:42Neha
ohh...nice...how old are you?
05:42Me
can we be pen pals in regular mail? the kind that you put stamps on?
53 and you?
05:45Neha
I am 21
you mean pen friends, where we are going to exchange letters
05:46Me
I have a son who is 21. Yes, that is what I mean. I would love to be your pen pal. It would be so nice to get letters from India, and from you.
05:47Neha
thanks
05:48Me
Well, you probably think that I am too old to be your pen pal. You didn t think that I was this old.
05:49Neha
not at all.
a friend is a friend
irrespective of the age
05:49Me
I am glad
We'll probably have to cancel our marriage plans...but we can carry on as friends...!!
05:50Neha

05:51Me
Do you want to give me your mailing address so I can write to you first?
05:51Neha
who said we had plans to marry?
05:51Me
I was just joking!
05:52Neha
nehaltheultimate@gmail.com
or princessoffortune@gmail.com
05:52Me
No I mean regular mail, like where you have to lick a stamp.
05:53Neha
what are we going to write there?
I mean, in the age of electronic mails
05:53Me
Mikel K 858 Vedado Way #2 Atlanta, Georgia USA 30308
I see your point.
Oh well.
No stamped letter from you in India!!
05:54Neha
287/15
nanda nagar
indore, India
452003
05:55Me
thanks.
I will send you a book that I have written to you email.
05:55Neha
what book is it?
about?
05:56Me
It is a memoir about a slice of my life.
05:56Neha
ohh great!!
how many pen pals do u have?
05:57Me
You are the first.
05:57Neha
ohh...any special reason to befriend me?
05:58Me
You are nice.
And seem special.
Plus you are from a far away exotic country.
05:58Neha
ohh thanks

and you belong to the counrty, I wish to do my masters from.
06:00Me
What school are you looking at, and what will your masters be in?
Book sent to the first email you gave me.
06:01Neha
I am studying physical therapy here in India
it is my bachelors degree
I'll go for masters in the same
probably from University of Southern California
Thanks for the mail
06:03Me
What a grat thing to study.
I just worked with Physical Therapists, when I got a new left hip.
They provide a great service, and, mostly, have a wonderful attitude.
06:04Neha
thanks
06:04Me
(:
Well, listen I am going to get into my morning writing...it was good talking to you, and I look forward to talking to you, again, here, and in the regular mail
06:05Neha
sure..
bye

06:06Me
Have a great day, Neha
06:06Neha
you too
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:13 AM 0 comments Links to this post
The beauty of the internet is that
at five a.m. this morning
I was talking to a beautiful woman
from India.


I was withdrawing from Lithium
the night I met you on your porch
so I was talking faster than I do
when I'm on the pill,
and sweating just a little bit more
in the summer evening.
You probably didn't notice
any of this; just figured that that
was the way that I always was.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:33 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Maybe God really got into him

I'm on my podium, on Sunday,
congregation gathered in front of me;
ain't got nothing to say,
money is suddenly not a motivation.
Posted by mikel k poet at 5:58 PM 0 comments Links to this post
What dept. do we belong in?

I think that you sound like you,
and I think that I write like me,
and any comparisons are made by
people swimming in a fish bowl.
Posted by mikel k poet at 5:53 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Other times barely can I see

I'm not down on my knees
but I'm praying like hell
to make it through this
gap in the disease.
The pink haze has been removed
for four days now;
I think I'm doing ok,
but someone else said
they saw a change in me.
I got tired of thinking,
and acting like a madman,
so I started doing
what they said instead of
always doing what I wanted to do.
Posted by mikel k poet at 5:46 PM 0 comments Links to this post
I want to get with Susan(sort of).

Life will offer you challenges;
some you will see as minor things,
some you will see as problems,
but really they are all one and the same.
I knew this girl, her name was Susan,
(of course, not her real name),
and Susan looked at problems as challenges,
and by smiling at them, the major things
became minor things, and, soon,
even the minor things were gone,
and she was moving on with a smile on her face.
I want to get to that place,
Oh Lord, won't you guide me.
Posted by mikel k poet at 5:37 PM 0 comments Links to this post
I find it fascinating that I am so unfascinating to you.
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:04 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Easy enough

It is possible for an author to develop contempt for his audience,
I have learned, so I just change audiences.
Posted by mikel k poet at 2:56 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Roll with the tide

You can get pissed off that things have changed
you can yell, and scream, that things are broken
but losing your mind won't fix a thing.
Posted by mikel k poet at 2:30 PM 0 comments Links to this post
I'm all apologies(sometimes).

Sorry if I've been testy
I shouldn't write letters
first thing in the morning,
sometimes I am groggy,
sometimes I am half asleep
upon waking.
I hope that I didn't
get myself in too deep
with you.
I wouldn't know what to do
if you walked away.
We're ok?
That's good to hear.
If I was still drinking,
I might have a beer.
Posted by mikel k poet at 2:24 PM 0 comments Links to this post
No more

I think you got me wrong,
or, at least, I would like to
think of it this way
that I could have loved, or liked, you
and been happy either way.
But your perceptions got cloudy
when you thought I wanted more
so now the door has shut between us
and we won't be seeing each other no more.
Posted by mikel k poet at 2:11 PM 0 comments Links to this post
He was extending me the opportunity to have an opportunity, and this opportunity came with a cost.
Posted by mikel k poet at 1:42 PM 0 comments Links to this post
The band wrote the songs together
but he scurried down to the post office
and licked the stamp on the envelope, first,
that contained the copyright papers.
Posted by mikel k poet at 1:34 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Why do the bad times seem to last so long,
and the good times, why they just roll along
faster, and faster?
I went through one of my old neighborhoods,
last week, reminded me of the company that I used to keep,
I ain't never been a priest,
I ain't never been a pastor,
and there was a long period of my life
where I was a right bastard,
but that didn't last no sir,
and I'm glad to say that, today,
I am a good neighbor.
I pick my flowers.
I grow cucumbers in my garden.
Posted by mikel k poet at 1:06 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Turn and walk away

Don't hit me in the face,
disgrace if I don't hit you back,
but we're both going to jail.
Judge don't care
who started the fight;
he sees in front of him
two people fighting,
and, even though,
the nation is at wars,
it's not o.k. to do battle
at home.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:03 AM 0 comments Links to this post
I think that I am getting sad
without the little pink pills
in my system.
Posted by mikel k poet at 5:59 AM 0 comments Links to this post
What's her name?

Got to go,
got to run,
got to keep these feelings
buried deep down inside.
I lost my brother,
I lost my sister.
It didn't used to matter,
now I'm wondering
who to blame.
It's all in my head,
life is just a game.
There are winners,
and losers;
there are people
who will drive you insane.
I feel fit,
I feel up to the task;
hey, there goes
what's her name.
Posted by mikel k poet at 5:46 AM 0 comments Links to this post
"Sometimes the light's all shinin' on me; other times I can barely see. Lately it occurs to me, what a long, strange trip it's been."--The Grateful Dead

5:01 Up and at 'em. I guess you can't hang onto everybody who you meet along the way. There is a certain sadness to this.

Writing a poem often steals from me a memoir entry, and writing a memoir entry often steals from me several poems. Being that I consider myself to be both a poet, and a memoirist, this is par for the course. Being the type A type of person that I was raised to be, I like to come in way under par, but having learned how to breath in, and breath out, through my nostrils, I will try to take things as they come.

This morning, I am looking at all the wonderful people who I do have in my life, and trying not to lament, or worry about the ones who used to be in my life, who are no longer in my life. I don't control the big picture. I can't control the behavior of others. I can't make everybody like me. I can only do the best that I can, and let the chips fall where they may.

Thank you, Lord, for letting me see the new day, breath the air of a new day. Guide me, Lord, in thought word, and action; thy will be done not mine..."

Thy will be done not mine is the key segment of my morning prayer. It is here that I turn it over to a higher power, and have faith that something greater than myself is in charge. This does not mean that I stop doing what I am doing, stop working at what I am working on in this life, it just means that I have faith. Without faith, I am personally fucked.
Posted by mikel k poet at 5:30 AM 0 comments Links to this post
SUNDAY, AUGUST 01, 2010
TataTango

I won't get my fix.
I'll get a smile,
and a proclamation
of innocence.
Innocence, my ass,
I will think,
but I will smile
back at her,
more innocent
than her even.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:49 PM 0 comments Links to this post
I've been abandoned in love;
I've been in desperate situations.
I've fallen in love,
and I've had my share of infatuations.
I've been so drunk that there was
nowhere else to put me, but in jail.
I've been so crazy, that they had
a padded cell just for me.
I've believed in God,
I've thought that God was dead,
and then I've believed in God, again.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:31 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Been there

Revolution maybe.
Evolution for sure.
Girls in high heels
certainly look good.
I've been on the ceiling,
it put me on the floor,
it's been awhile since
I don it,
I ain't going to do it,
no more.

Caroline
what's happening?
10:03Me
Skippin skool. again??!
Writing.
10:03Caroline
nah, have national night out tonight
don't go in till 2
10:03Me
Is that like a gay rights day?
10:03Caroline
no... like a 'take back the streets' type thing
10:03Me
Have you finally come out?!
10:03Caroline
ha ha
10:04Me
Who s taking it back...the cops? I thought that they already had it!
10:04Caroline
never the cops
neighborhood groups
10:04Me
Give it to The Man.
Power to The People, baby.
Down with Whitey!
10:05Caroline
keep believen'
if you believe, you may acheive
10:05Me
I believe my green tea is ready.
10:05Caroline

10:06Me
Check out a writer named Paul Guest. He s from Atlanta, and I thought that I was the best here!
10:06Caroline
what does he write about?
10:06Me
breaking his neck on his bike when he was 12
10:06Caroline
sheesh
10:06Me
among other things
10:07Caroline
i guess its not what you write about, but how
10:07Me
I had to just put the memoir down. He is describing how it felt after he hit...spinal fluid, not blood, dripping from his nose.
I am blessed to have mental not physical burdens.
10:08Caroline
is he in a wheelchair?
sometimes mental burdens can be worse
because they're not visible to the naked eye
10:08Me
For sure. Since he was 12. He is now a Prof of Poetry at W GA.
I d rather be me bi polar than me dead from the neck down. Dead from the neck up, as my dad, used to call me, would be my preference
10:10Caroline
dunno
grass is always greener
peace is a nice place to live
body or no body
i just had pics of my ovaries done this morning
how many women can say that?

10:11Me
dunno
you re the first that I've heard of
but then again there have been a lot of firsts with you!!
10:12Caroline
yes, no doubt
wish me luck, in any case
10:12Me
good luck
10:13Caroline

10:16Me
http://paulguest.net/index.html
10:22Caroline
he's married?
10:22Me
does that surprise you; that any woman could love such a man?
10:23Caroline
i knew you'd say that
it's interesting
i never could
but i'm sure someone could
10:23Me
Then why does it surprise you.
10:24Caroline
not surprised
interested
10:24Me
For the same reason that it surprises all of us I guess, or most of us.
10:24Caroline
good for him
and good for them
take love where you can get it
10:24Me
The word I ve seen around him is "engaged." And she is an Asian woman.
10:25Caroline
maybe they can both get what they need
which is all you can ask for
and more than most can say
10:26Me
I'm out for all I can get, baby.
10:26Caroline
tee hee
yes, you are
10:26Me
me me me
10:26Caroline
no shame in your game
10:26Me
(:
Bye for now
10:26Caroline
ok
thanks for the link
nice to get interesting new authors
10:27Me
I've got important things to do.
10:27Caroline
you always do
10:27Me
Can t be wasting my time with some woman.
10:27Caroline
moving on.... next

10:27Me
Movin on up.
10:27Caroline
up up and away
10:28Me
Hip hip hooray
10:28Caroline
it's a new day
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:09 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Let's get high?

You have to be careful
not to attract people to you
like flies are attracted to shit.
This stated, the obvious would be
that I should always smell good,
in every situation,
but this is going to be hard
for me to do
since I have, basically,
given up wearing deodorant.
I would rather be a bit more smelly
than put poison under my arm.
Of course, the pesticide in my coffee
is going to kill me anyway,
so what can you do,
but keep on trying to reach a higher ground?
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:56 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Oughts

The brain slows down
once you feed the stomach
the racing thoughts
that the coffee induces
settle down,
like a cat on a window sill
about to take a cat nap.
Knowing this,
the writer should not eat
before he writes.
Come to think of it,
there are a lot of thing
that the writer should do,
and one of them is to
go back to sleep now.






Yolk's not on me

I did not think that I could remove the yolks from my eggs, and ever be happy eating eggs again, but, this morning, I am happily chomping on two egg whites covered in hot sauce, black pepper, and garlic powder. I am loving it, and I am fourteen pounds lighter than I was 4 and 1/2 weeks ago. I am not saying that egg yolks were keeping me fat, but getting rid of them has been part of a process that has helped me get rid of the weight. All the little things that I have been doing have added up to the big thing which is my goal of not being a fat mother fucker.








Not Kung Fu Fighting

My dog, Morisson, has learned
when I am about to successfully
put a Jiu Jitsu choke hold on him,
and he escapes like a Jakare black belt would,
confidently, artistically, stoically.
Bundy, my other dog, is not as good
at getting out of such a position;
he squirms, shakes, rattles, and rolls,
but still I hold him.
The dogs love these little martial arts games
that we play;
Morisson immediately sticking his nose back
in my hand to initiate the proceedings again.






Welcome!

I'm drinking pesticide infested coffee
laden with organic one percent milk
writing a note to a friend
when the computer suddenly starts to shut down.
Microsoft had offered me the option
of getting my "updates" later,
and I guess that Bill Gates decides
when "later" is.
I hate the fact that someone else decides
when my computer is going to shut down,
just like I hate the fact that
your son died for our freedom
so that Coca Cola and Budweiser
could sell their poison in Iraq and Afghanistan.
And while I'm on the subject,
I, also, hate the fact that I can't afford
to buy organic coffee, this morning.








On writing poems and using yoga mats

I am trying to hold off
going through my messages, this morning,
because I feel that they steal poems from me.
The early morning time that I could be writing
poems, and or journals entries
often gets zapped by wanting to see
what people want to say to me
or by what people want to say about me.
I left a yoga mat on the floor
next to my bed, last night,
with shoes on it to keep the dogs off it,
and you know what I got on that Yoga mat
the first thing this morning
(well, after I took a piss, and slapped water
on my face, if you must know)
I have decided that a dirty yoga mat
that I am using, one that may have some
dog and cat hairs on it is better than
a clean yoga mat that sits in the corner
and never gets used.
The spell check always catches it
when I misspell the word entries,
which is really helpful.








They've got you by the balls

They put so much shit on these computers
that you don't want, and more shit
that gets in the way of you doing
what you do want to do,
and you paid them to let them do that to you.
I'm not sure which capitalist pig
I'm to fully blame for this,
whether it is the mother fuckers
who built the computer,
or the bastards who want you to use
their operating system,
and their documents creator.
I'll probably head to the yoga mat,
and do some downward facing dog
to get over this.






Random Purchases

Certain purchases are made randomly
like my recent acquisition
of what is known as a memory pad
which is simply another name
for a small lap top
My primary research was into price
which was my primary consideration
as I am living on an unemployment check
and food stamps.






On the act of gaining hard poops

Sometimes, my thumb gets tied to the inside of a book
while I frantically look about for some sort of a book mark
maybe a fragment of paper that has been subbing as a to do list
maybe a coupon of some sort
ideally one of the "for free" business cards
that I paid $5.98 shipping and handling for
The business cards are neat, and it somehow feels nice
to have my name inside a book
though what I am really after, in life, is having my name
on the outside of books.
I am sure that this will occur. one day, when I get my shit together.







Who really has their shit together?

Just because a girl is young,
and good looking,
doesn't mean that
she is not fucked up.
You don't have to be old,and ugly
to have huge personal problems.






Being polite, or what?

Some people say, yeah, yeah, yeah
we'll get together, but you know
that they don't mean it,
and, sometimes, neither do you.

--Mikel K
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:41 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Oughts

The brain slows down
once you feed the stomach
the racing thoughts
that the coffee induces
settle down,
like a cat on a window sill
about to take a cat nap.
Knowing this,
the writer should not eat
before he writes.
Come to think of it,
there are a lot of thing
that the writer should do,
and one of them is to
go back to sleep now.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:38 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Yolk's not on me

I did not think that I could remove the yolks from my eggs, and ever be happy eating eggs again, but, this morning, I am happily chomping on two egg whites covered in hot sauce, black pepper, and garlic powder. I am loving it, and I am fourteen pounds lighter than I was 4 and 1/2 weeks ago. I am not saying that egg yolks were keeping me fat, but getting rid of them has been part of a process that has helped me get rid of the weight. All the little things that I have been doing have added up to the big thing which is my goal of not being a fat mother fucker.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:19 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Not Kung Fu Fighting

My dog, Morisson, has learned
when I am about to successfully
put a Jiu Jitsu choke hold on him,
and he escapes like a Jakare black belt would,
confidently, artistically, stoically.
Bundy, my other dog, is not as good
at getting out of such a position;
he squirms, shakes, rattles, and rolls,
but still I hold him.
The dogs love these little martial arts games
that we play;
Morisson immediately sticking his nose back
in my hand to initiate the proceedings again.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:40 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Donna Strahla Brown:
odd you should happen to mention 'paying utility bill late'...that's EXACTLY what i was doing this morning...paid 1/2 to try and avoid disconnection...then called to confirm and was told it wasnt enough...still needed substantial amount. the helpful girl then pipes up: is anyone in the house sick or handicapped? do they NEED the electric for medical reasons? seeing my chance, I answered "yes, I need the air conditioning and fans or i will not be able to breathe". phone girl: can you get your DR to fax us a statement to that effect?" me" no, I cant get to town right now." phone girl: "thats too bad" CLICK.
·
Mikel K Poet Donna, when I was going through the process of getting a new hip, in the winter, when my utility bills were fucking criminal, I was given a list of places to call for "help." The more well-known ones, like The United Way, and The Salvation Army were, to me, useless; I just wound up listening to muzak, and recordings. There was one little organization that did help me. You can't give up. You have to keep trying. You have to keep looking for help, when you need it.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:34 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Welcome!

I'm drinking pesticide infested coffee
laden with organic one percent milk
writing a note to a friend
when the computer suddenly starts to shut down.
Microsoft had offered me the option
of getting my "updates" later,
and I guess that Bill Gates decides
when "later" is.
I hate the fact that someone else decides
when my computer is going to shut down,
just like I hate the fact that
your son died for our freedom
so that Coca Cola and Budweiser
could sell their poison in Iraq and Afghanistan.
And while I'm on the subject,
I, also, hate the fact that I can't afford
to buy organic coffee, this morning.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:16 AM 0 comments Links to this post
On writing poems and using yoga mats

I am trying to hold off
going through my messages, this morning,
because I feel that they steal poems from me.
The early morning time that I could be writing
poems, and or journals entries
often gets zapped by wanting to see
what people want to say to me
or by what people want to say about me.
I left a yoga mat on the floor
next to my bed, last night,
with shoes on it to keep the dogs off it,
and you know what I got on that Yoga mat
the first thing this morning
(well, after I took a piss, and slapped water
on my face, if you must know)
I have decided that a dirty yoga mat
that I am using, one that may have some
dog and cat hairs on it is better than
a clean yoga mat that sits in the corner
and never gets used.
The spell check always catches it
when I misspell the word entrees,
which is really helpful
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:53 AM 0 comments Links to this post
They've got you by the balls

They put so much shit on these computers
that you don't want, and more shit
that gets in the way of you doing
what you do want to do,
and you paid them to let them do that to you.
I'm not sure which capitalist pig
I'm to fully blame for this,
whether it is the mother fuckers
who built the computer,
or the bastards who want you to use
their operating system,
and their documents creator.
I'll probably head to the yoga mat,
and do some downward facing dog
to get over this.
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:46 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Certain purchases are made randomly
like my recent acquisition
of what is known as a memory pad
which is simply another name
for a small lap top
My primary research was into price
which was my primary consideration
as I am living on an unemployment check
and foodstamps.
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:34 AM 0 comments Links to this post
On the act of gaining hard poops

Sometimes, my thumb gets tied to the inside of a book
while I frantically look about for some sort of a book mark
maybe a fragment of paper that has been subbing as a to do list
maybe a coupon of some sort
ideally one of the "for free" business cards
that I paid $5.98 shipping and handling for
The business cards are neat, and it somehow feels nice
to have my name inside a book
though what I am really after, in life, is having my name
on the outside of books.
I am sure that this will occur. one day, when I get my shit together.
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:28 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Who really has their shit together?

Just because a girl is young,
and good looking,
doesn't mean that
she is not fucked up.
You don't have to be old,and ugly
to have huge personal problems.
Posted by mikel k poet at 12:50 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Being polite, or what?

Some people say, yeah, yeah, yeah
we'll get together, but you know
that they don't mean it,
and, sometimes, neither do you.
Posted by mikel k poet at 12:18 AM 0 comments Links to this post
MONDAY, AUGUST 02, 2010
Brian
you got that
23:34Me
I suppose that I could always move to Iraq, or Afghanistan!
Or Iran...I hear that they are hiring!
23:35Brian
haha
23:36Brian
leave it plugged in and I will try to touch base tomorrow
23:36Me
Thanks Brian. I really appreciate it. Have a great night!
23:37Brian
you too sir
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:37 PM 0 comments Links to this post
any liuck getting that thing to boot?
23:12Me
nope
23:13Brian
I wish I could get into BIOS
23:13Me
I'm going to take it downtown, and throw it at The Capitol Bldg.
23:13Brian
HAHA
It is either the brick, the conection point (hope not) or BIOS
23:14Me
It seems that Toshiba has built a bit of an Edsil.
23:15Brian
yeah I read that last time we were working with it
23:15Me
Not quite as bad a Pinto, but designed to send you back to Toshiba for more!
23:15Brian
but the BIOS should be able to be flashed
how much RAM does it hold?
not hold have?
23:16Me
I'll turn it on again and see what happens, if you have some minutes
don t know
I know to type poetry into it is about all
23:17Brian
hang on I will find the proper key to get into BIOS
remind you will not be able to use the touchpad only arrows ESC and enter
23:17Me
someone is saying to buy a recovery disc???????????????
23:18Brian
do you have the original XP disc it came wirth?
23:18Me
that is more than I can use now!
no
23:18Brian
don't know if you can buy a recovery disc for XP anymore
gimme a few minutes what is the model number again
23:19Me
right on
a105 s4164
Satellite
23:23Brian
how old?
23:23Me
about 4 yrs
23:24Brian
do you recall if the speakers were on?
23:25Me
Yes they were on
23:27Brian
OK try to boot it but hold the power button down the entire time and keep pressing ESC
23:27Me
ok
23:28Brian
if it ask to check system prss F1
23:29Me
it is completely out of juice
might charge up a little with time
23:29Brian
try that
it may be the battery itself
I am learning this week how to troubleshoot electrical problems
23:30Me
kool skool ur in
are you borrowing student loans to go thru
23:31Brian
hope schalarship at the moment
23:31Me
Kool that is the way to go!!
Stay out of debt
23:31Brian
i have enough student loan debt already
23:32Me
Hear that
A nation of indentured servants!!
23:32Brian
you got that
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:33 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Lithium Re-Entry

I talk to Morisson more,
and feel less guilty about it.
One minute, Jaggar is on
the Yoga mat,
and I am watching him,
and the next minute,
I am on the Yoga mat
and he is watching me.
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:27 PM 0 comments Links to this post
You had the fragrance

You had the fragrance
of my favorite chocolate bar,
looked nothing like
the woman that I was looking for.
Stop.
I don't know how this poem ends.
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:17 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Rules By Me

I can't read if I'm gonna write.
I can't conceive it if I don't believe it.
I can't make peace, and continue to fight.
I can't be sick in the head,
and continue to say I'm alright.
You can't drink a six pack,
and say you're just getting started
on the path to sobriety.
You can't sip on coffee, if you're drinking tea.
You can't pick your neighbor's flowers,
and pee on his lawn at the same time
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:05 PM 0 comments Links to this post
So many like her

Hey who was that girl that lead you to me,
the one over who we once would have had a fight?
I haven't seen her in a whole bunch of sunsets,
and she, and I, used to hold hands on the beach
and watch the sun go down.
Don't I feel a bit stupid now that you and I
are still friends, and she is long gone.
Tell me, have you seen her;
you and she used to hold hands and look at the moon.
I bet she found a man with a Mercedes, got the keys
and, man, she is gone.



You buy I'll fly

She said that she'd visit
if I paid for it.
We were certainly a pair,
neither one of us
with an extra dollar;
me nineteen years without
a drink,
her headed for some sort of
a "happy hour,"
most certainly
within the hour.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:23 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Diagnosis

My old therapist just appeared at the door
of the shrink's office
calling out for one of her clients.
She didn't smile, and wave, at me
like she used to, and I wonder if
it is because she didn't recognize me
with all the new hair
that I have on my face, and head,
or if she just doesn't give a fuck
about me, since I'm not her patient
any more.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:19 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Doing it with the angels

He's only telling her
that he read that book
because he wants to fuck her
I think to myself
watching the two of them
talk in the lobby
of the shrink's office.
What the fuck
do I know?
I haven't gotten laid
in centuries,
and I will, probably,
be in Heaven
before I get head again.
Posted by mikel k poet at 5:07 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Ugly

I don't think
that she was ever cute
not even when
she was a baby.
She was one of
those ugly babies
that you see
staring at you
in the maternity ward
from an incubator
already asking
how and why
they were put here.
Posted by mikel k poet at 5:07 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Can you understand this?

I'm going to read all of his poems,
but, so far, in reading his poems
my question has been, "So what?"
I don't ever want people to say,
"So what?" about my poems.
Posted by mikel k poet at 5:04 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Surprised and Happy

I just lied to the receptionist
at my shrink's office,
but the lie is better than
the song, and dance, routine
that I was going to give her
about why I couldn't pay
the ten dollar co-pay, again today.
"You have no co-pay,
is that correct?" she asked me.
Surprised, and happy, I answered, "No!"
Posted by mikel k poet at 4:55 PM 0 comments Links to this post
It's not my celebrity
it's my persoanality
that makes people say hi
to me
because I certainly
ain't famous,
but I am moving on up
on the happiness scale.
Posted by mikel k poet at 4:52 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Restraint

I don't think that I'll write about that at all
it could come back to haunt me in some unforeseen way
restraint of pen and tongue is a good thing
not spouting out the first angry or stupid thing
that you want to say.
Posted by mikel k poet at 4:21 PM 0 comments Links to this post
One bottle of stout

I'm singing the blues because I choose
to sing the blues
could have paid the light bill
but I went to the bar instead
could have paid the light bell
now I feel like
somebody kicked me in the head
the lights are going to go out
and I only have this one bottle of stout
who can I turn to
the electric company is screwing me
how dare they want this money from me
I'm singing the blues because I choose
to sing the blues
It's all about choices
My neighbor stayed home
they'll have electricy
maybe I can run a wire
from their space to mine
I wonder if I should ask them
or just do it
I'm singing the blues
I'm singing the blues
only got this one bottle of stout
to see me through.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:00 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Less can be more

Satiated I am
by the beauty of the morning.
It is amazing how happy
a cup of cheap coffee can make me,
though I would prefer to have
the more expensive beans.

(For Billy Fields).
Posted by mikel k poet at 5:54 AM 0 comments Links to this post
TUESDAY, AUGUST 03, 2010
Are you trying to sink your claws in me?
Am I trying to put my penis in you?
Just what the hell is going on here
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:46 PM 0 comments Links to this post
You buy I'll fly

She said she'd come
if I paid for it;
we were certainly a pair
neither one of us
with an extra dollar,
me nineteen years sober,
her headed for "happy hour,"
most certainly within the hour.

--K
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:12 PM 0 comments Links to this post
If you're selling I'm buying

I'm not looking for anything
but if you got it, I'll take it.
Posted by mikel k poet at 4:29 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Sugar sugar

I want to be your man, baby
I don't want to be your dog.
If I treat you right,
and you don't respect me,
then I will be at a loss.
How much does it cost
around here to get a cup of coffee
with a smile?
Posted by mikel k poet at 4:22 PM 0 comments Links to this post
You made a mistake
I'm not a dancer
I'm just here for the ride
You can offer all your pleasures
but I'm old, and I'm set in my ways.
I used to smoke it,
nearly wound up in a Jimi Hendrix
type of purple haze.
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:58 AM 0 comments Links to this post
As I head to somebody else's couch

I should have been a bluegrass guitar player.
I should have been a blue singer.
I should have fronted a punk rock band.
I should have been a hippy,
a revolutionary,
a man who didn't care about air conditioning,
and pretty girls with pretty smiles.
I should have been anything
but what I am,
but what the fuck can I do?
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:48 AM 0 comments Links to this post
It really sucks when it happens to me

Dickheads sent their bill to me,
I used less electricity this month
than I did last month
turned the air conditioners off a lot
and yet my bill is higher than it was,
last month.
There ought to be a law
against the laws that govern us.
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:31 AM 0 comments Links to this post
You had your chance

He'll know more about me
than anybody has ever known about me
because only he and I know how to
keep a secret.
I have been deeply in love, before,
and I never shared this knowledge
with any of them,
and I won't share it with you.
You think that you know me,
but what you see here
is just the blink of an eye.
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:26 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Did Timothy O'Leary lead me to this?

I'd rather not hallucinate
ever again
and strand a car on a median
in downtown Atlanta
three of us leaving unscathed
(us not the car)
except for whatever pieces
of our brain
we killed that night
letting something wallow
on our tongues
that was probably cut with
something other than
what it was supposed to be
but the depression was so deep
in those days
that a few hours with rat poison
in my body
was probably worth it.
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:13 AM 0 comments Links to this post
If you can't be with the one you love, honey...

I can't remember what this poem was going to be about
it wasn't going to be about love, though
the title was just a clever lure to draw you in
and then I was going to tell you how much I love
drinking coffee
or how much my dogs, cats, and turtles mean to me.


The type has gotten smaller,
and my eyes are bulging,
would you please make a smell lapt
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:19 PM 0 comments Links to this post
You don't want to live,
but you're too cheap to die;
can't see giving up dollars
to become ashes in the sky.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:28 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Possible sand in his toes

There was a bird
in the birdfeeder,
but the dog, and I,
scared that bird away.
Maybe he flew off
to his retirement condo
by the beach.
Posted by mikel k poet at 4:52 PM 0 comments Links to this post
"Wow, you're a million dollar rock star, now, and all I can do is look at your picture in magazines! is what I posted to my friend Dale W. Miller's blog, a minute ago, because he got his picture inside a drummer magazine with picture of himself in a wet suit, diving off of a drum set. Miller is not a rock star. He is a hard working man, a musician, a husband, a father. He is a drummer; a very good drummmer, or he wouldn't have gotten the drum ad, but though he plays in a couple of very good NYC bands, he is not pulling in millions of dollars from doing so.
Posted by mikel k poet at 4:35 PM 0 comments Links to this post
So cast not you light upon me

She is like a breath of fresh air,
her smile could light up a big city,
for free
for centuries,
but she is taken.
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:58 PM 0 comments Links to this post
I want to vote for someone running not in business suit

They'll cut your balls,
have them genetically altered
by Republican Scientists,
and feed them to your co-workers,
while they roll your hospital bed
(with you in it), out to the area
marked, "Trash," taking the bed back
to the hospital.
And they won't separate white trash
from any other type of trash;
you're all trash if you don't have the cash,
and there are really people who believe
that they can become a billionaire, too,
and they don't all stand outside the liquor store,
slowing down the all important liquor line,
while they pick the numbers for their lottery ticket,
the money of which was once promised to all go to ecucation,
but, as I understand it, doesn't now.
Funny, how promises made by a guy, or gal,
in a three piece suit are only good while
they are running for election.
Got to run, my ketchup is cooked,
got to have my vegetables, Massir.
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:43 PM 0 comments Links to this post
She's got a man.

I hope that he treats her right.
I hope that he treats her
fucking fantastic,
because I would.
I would treat her like a Queen.
I would bath her in everything,
but money,
because I don't have any.
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:39 PM 0 comments Links to this post
I'm too old to be a rock star

I have found that when I think
that I am going to make a mistake
dialing a phone number
that I often make a mistake
dialing that number.
I wonder if the same can be applied
to ambition and goals in life?
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:27 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Will work for

There is numbered meaning
which is where they
try to put you on a shelf,
order you,
make you neat,
and tidy,
so that they can understand you,
and, more importantly, work you.
And, there is numbed meaning
which some of you feel,
mainly the ones of you
who can't be numbered,
who can't be put on a shelf,
who can't be worked.
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:21 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Good people lookin' out for me

I'm listening to Muddy Waters sing,
and, all of a sudden,
I want to go back to the farm,
ain't never been on no farm,
ain't even got bus fair to get to the farm,
wherever it be,
Monsanto got the farm.
ain't got no bus fair
but I know that
my Republican Senators are looking out for me.
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:00 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Don't kill yourself over spilled milk

Spilling some flower on the kitchen counter
as you are about to fry fish
(and I know that I should not eat my fish fried)
does not mean that you have to commit suicide
and that is the primary reason
that I do not keep a gun in the house.
Posted by mikel k poet at 1:55 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Genetic and other modifications

You hobbled into their electric appliances.
You wandered into their cars.
You ate their steak never wondering
where a cow came from;
sliced tomatoes always appeared to you
to be as they were.
Now, they can give you a blue eyed white baby,
even if you are black.
Posted by mikel k poet at 1:36 PM 0 comments Links to this post
You are a Goddess in sun in wind in rain in the dark in the park when the neighbor's dog barks at you!!!
Posted by mikel k poet at 1:10 PM 0 comments Links to this post
I had the weirdest dream, last night. I was in a car, with my childrens' mother, and a guy who was famous for being in a band that used to be famous rock band drove by. We were going down the same street as him, and we saw him pull off the curb to the left of us, and park against the grain of traffic. He went into a three bedroom condominium, that was attached to other three bedroom condominiums.

My thought was that he had not "made it" as much as I had thought that he had made it, or he would have a grander abode. He left the door open when he went in, and there were large windows fronting the condo at each floor, so you could, basically, see everything in his home.

Next, I was at the rock star's door with my children's mother, who is a photographer, and she was telling a man, who I presumed to be the rock star's roommate, that she was with the Natioanl Geographic magazine, and could she take pictures of the interior of the house?

The guy said yes, and G2 went all through the house taking pictures.

As we left, the Rock Star came down the steps of his house, with his girlfriend, who had a very expensive punk rock looking type of haircut, which made me think back to when punks did their own hair coloring.

They got in a beat up old, and scratched, Vailian, that was facing the SUV with large mag wheels that The Rock Star had parked against the Valiant when we first saw him.

There was a pair of socks on a pay phone, right indside the entrance to The Rock Star's house, that I grabbed because I thought they were mine. My friend Kevin was in the car with us, then, and as the Rock Star and his gal drove off, Kevin remarked, "That you never know how much money anyone has."

The only part of this dream that I really understand is the part about me grabbing the socks. It reflects the near abject poverty that I live in, and I need new black socks because the cats, and dogs, have taken, and hidden, all mine!

Dream is over!
Posted by mikel k poet at 12:21 PM 0 comments Links to this post
She is getting too inquisitive
too fast
I can't have that
I am too private.
Insinuations,
blind stabbing in the dark;
save them for the next poet.
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:51 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Some people take their drinking problem
to 12 step meetings
others go to Widespread Panic show
because Jerry is dead.
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:43 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Hello Little Fly

I'm alone on this page
just me
a man with his thoughts
and observations
and then you wander in
with your eyes
your thoughts
your mind
and I catch you
like a spider catches a fly
only I wasn't trying to catch you
I was just here alone
with my thoughts
and my observations
and now I can't get rid of you
In some cases that is is good,
and in some cases that is bad.
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:36 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Little things still piss me off

The pink pills,
and the green pill,
and the white pill,
and the oh so effective
little tan colored pills
don't always do it.
Breathing in and out
through my nose
for fifteen minutes
at a time helps,
but it doesn't fully
eradicate it sometimes.
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:10 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Pussy be not my guide

She's not nearly good looking enough
for me to put up with the shit
that she has already started to deliver.
I need a Major Babe, a Major Major babe
before I even begin to stand someone
cancelling plans on me
not calling when they say they are
going to call.
Of course, I am anal, and high maintenance,
that is why I am better suited
to going it alone.
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:05 AM 0 comments Links to this post
WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 04, 2010
"Yes sir!! Are you having issues today?"

Gosh, golly...if I was having "issues,"
would I want to talk about it
on the front page of my Face Book account?
Do some people not understand privacy,
and boundaries.
My God, girlfriend, get a grip.


Poetry Goals of Mikel K Poet

It is my goal to not be verbose, or unintelligible.


verbose-using or containing an excess of words,
so as to be pedantic or boring; prolix

prolix:
1. (of a speech, book, etc.) so long as to be boring; verbose
2. indulging in prolix speech or writing; long-winded

unintelligible--not able to be understood; incomprehensible

pe·dan·tic--Characterized by a narrow, often ostentatious concern
for book learning and formal rules: a pedantic attention to details.
Posted by mikel k poet at 1:32 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Unintelligible

Much poetry, to me, is unintelligible
which makes it pretty much worthless,
to me.
Posted by mikel k poet at 1:24 PM 0 comments Links to this post
It's that time, again

I am leaving in an hour and fourteen minutes
to go to the dermatologist
there is a growth on my upper arm
near my angel tattoo's wing
that has been bothering me
Also, I think that it has been about a year
since the dermatologist has inspected my skin
for moles that are darker than they should be,
and that it is time to have him inspect me, again.
Posted by mikel k poet at 1:16 PM 0 comments Links to this post
My bicycle is calling to me this morning
it is saying leave the poems behind
and come ride me while it is still cool.
My dogs are looking up at me
anticipating the walk that we will take
after I ride my bike.
A bowl of oatmeal is waiting to be fixed,
it says eat me before you ride.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:43 AM 0 comments Links to this post
WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 11, 2010
I am trying to become an expert in the use of semicolons

My daughter just started her junior year of high school;
we were sitting around the house, after school, yesterday,
and I asked her when she would use a semicolon,
and she had an answer which was much like what
the pages from the internet that I have been reading
about semicolon use
have been teaching me.
I don't know why, but I was surprised at
my daughter's in depth semicolon knowledge.
I told her that I had always day dreamed during the punctuation parts
of English classes, because I found it so boring.
She laughed, and said that she found it boring, too.
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:22 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Don't ever quit

I still have the first home run ball
that he hit over the fence in Little League;
it lies in a box that, also, contains notebooks
of mine that are filled with poems that I wrote
before laptops were invented,
or became affordable to me.
I don't know what value that ball has;
he, who hit it over the fence,
pretty much could care less about it,
skateboards, and getting to work on time
having replaced hitting home runs
as a priority in his life.
And that autographed ball doesn't hold
the great attraction for me that it once had.
Maybe one day his kid will look at it
and smile.
The poems are, to me, invaluable.
I will carry those notebooks with me
everywhere that I go until I die,
certain that they will reveal something
to a world that will, one day,
be curious about every word that I have ever written..
The Smithsonian will buy the notebooks,
from my estate, and scholarships for
aspiring poets will be set up in my name.
The scholarships will be called,
"The Don't Ever Quit Scholarships."
They will be given to people who are driven
to do what they have been told they can't do,
driven to be what they are not supposed to be: a poet.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:33 AM 0 comments Links to this post
I went to my second political countdown party last night, this one for a candidate that I voted for: Keisha Waits, who was running for Fulton County Commissioner.

There was no buffet, like there was the last time that I went to one of these events, but there was a Chef cooking wonderful things for those gathered, who included Matthew Cardinale, my neighbor, and the publisher of The Atlanta Progressive News, and Alice Gordon, a writer for The Atlanta Progressive News, who chauffeured us to the event. http://www.atlantaprogressivenews.com/

A high of the evening was when Ms. Waits came up, introduced herself to me, and gave me a great big hug, as if we were long lost friends. As we were leaving, and I was thanking her for running, Ms. Waits asked me why I don't run for something.

"Because I'm running from my past," I told her with a great big smile.

The man sauteeing the wonderful food all night, at the Othello Event Hall, in Southwest Atlanta, was Chef Dante, a very talented Chef, and very charismatic human being. Chef Dante's smile, and wonderful attitude lit up not only the table where he was producing such great food, but the entire banquet hall.

Keisha Waites did not win this election, but I am hoping that she will run again for something. She made the night a winner for all of us who attended her countdown party.
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:21 AM 0 comments Links to this post
TUESDAY, AUGUST 10, 2010
I keep clicking on the boxes
that say offensive and misleading
but they keep sending me ads
for dating services.
Nothing is free,
and these ads are something
that I must endure
to enjoy the social networking
that I enjoy on the site
that is feeding me these ads.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:58 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Some mornings I am not sure
if anything that I have written
is worth a durn,
I just write it, and save it,
and look at it later.
Sometimes, I am surprised,
to find that a morning's output
of words is better than I thought
it was,
and, of course, sometimes I find
that what I wrote was awful.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:56 AM 0 comments Links to this post
I am reading a good book
a memoir
I like to read memoirs
since I also write them
and I feel as if I am
doing research
for my life's work
when I read what
someone else has written
about their life.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:54 AM 0 comments Links to this post
We are all in agreement
those of us who live here
that Atlanta is far too hot
this summer
bummer really to have have to
live under such oppressive heat.
The beautiful young lady
who checked me out
of the doctor's office, yesterday
said that by October
we should be having some cool weather
it is August now
and I was hoping
that it would get cool
in September.
Soon I will be complaining about
the high heat bills
that the utility company sends
it never ends.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:50 AM 0 comments Links to this post
MONDAY, AUGUST 09, 2010
Should I touch her?

She says that I have already touched her
heart, and mind. But what about
the rest of her?
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:44 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Monday Reflections

Henry is barking.
I will, soon, go scoop him up,
and let him hang out with us,
which is why he is barking:
he wants to come visit.
I will repeat myself
in this poem,
if I am not careful;
I have already written
a memoir entry telling you
what is going on in my day.
It is a Monday;
my daughter goes back
to school, today.
I am sure that she is doing
cartwheels, and jumping jacks,
of ecstasy about this.
Who wants summer to last?
Kid would rather be in school,
just like I would rather
be on the time clock
at some job that doesn't care
about me.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:14 AM 0 comments Links to this post
She turned out to be NOTHING like what she looked like.
She wasn't sweet. She wasn't innocent. When I was young,
I used to wake up in bed next to women, and wonder how
they had got there, and what, if anything, we had done.

"Hello," I would say,

And she would say, "Mary," or "Anne," or "Sarah."
Posted by mikel k poet at 12:33 AM 0 comments Links to this post
It's a quarter past midnight. I'm too tired to read, and I forgot what it was that I was going to look up on the internet. I guess that I will just finish this hot tea with milk, and go to bed. I just downloaded about ten songs by The Monkees. Listening to "Cheer Up Sleep Jean," made me sad. I will never be a kid, again, perched in front of the television, totally in a trance with what is in front of me.

I took one of my kids to the airport, tonight. He is twenty one. Twenty fucking one. One of my other children has a child; that makes me a grandfather. Where the hell did all the time go; where is the time going now?

Jerry Garcia died today. First let me tell you that I think that it is weird that there is an ice cream named after a diabetic. Second, let me tell you that I think that it is sad that Jerry Garcia died in a rehab bed; all the love the guy created, and he dies alone in a rehab bed.

I did not get into The Grateful Dead until I was 53, but I am into them now.
Jerry is playing guitar while Jim Morrisson, sings, and Charles Bukowski reads poetry. Janis sings. Jimi plays guitar with Jerry. Kurt Cobain sit in front of them
with a big smile on his face. He is clean, as is Jerry, Jim, Charles, and Janis. They all had to die, and go to Heaven to get clean; but they got it.
Posted by mikel k poet at 12:17 AM 0 comments Links to this post
We live down the way
from each other,
but we never take the time
to even say hello.
Posted by mikel k poet at 12:04 AM 0 comments Links to this post
SUNDAY, AUGUST 08, 2010
I'm on my way somewhere, where I don't know.
I don't care. I would like to get out of
this hot summer air.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:50 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Whatever happened to a cop getting out of his, or her, car and politely asking people to move along, when they are dropping off loved ones, and friends, at the airport? The cop of today follows behind you in his or her car blue lights flashing, siren screeching more than urging you to hurry up. You feel like some sort of a criminal instead of a person happy to be at the airport. Did you say goodbye to your son; you can't remember: Johnny Law was tracking you down.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:35 PM 0 comments Links to this post
It never comes easy if you don't let it.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:34 PM 0 comments Links to this post
I'm loving this odyssey,
my fact is better than fantasy.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:30 PM 0 comments Links to this post
My meaning once got stolen from me,
so I had to go out and re-create myself.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:19 PM 0 comments Links to this post
And we're not talking mashed with butter

Claim your independence
it's already too late for me
there is no Irish Army
to help me keep the British
off of this farm,
when I am done paying the rent
all I've got is potatoes to eat
and they are trying to figure out
how to take the potatoes away from me.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:21 PM 0 comments Links to this post
It is always several hours to something
war a business deal a baby being born.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:19 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Were you at The Family Dog in 1970?

If I could stand on the moon
and play a pedal steel guitar
I saw a dollar bill
on the church floor
the choir was singing
about doing God's will
as I put the bill in my pocket
like a rocket
I was in a prison
surrounded by Holy Men
they wanted the dollar back
but I wouldn't give it to them
I didn't buy into their theory
of Heaven and Hell
Posted by mikel k poet at 5:47 PM 0 comments Links to this post
God in his mercy lets us rise and fall,
This young girl met Jerry, she had his baby,
and then he had a heart attack,
despite all the great music he made on this planet
he ain't never coming back.
Posted by mikel k poet at 2:29 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Before I go

I feel like I should write a poem
before I go, before I go
to pick my son up at his house,
and take him to the grocery store.
I don't know what this poem will be about;
I have nothing on my mind.
I just had lunch,
some carrots, with green beans, and corn.
I just had a coffee,
a luscious, large coffee.
I have been reading about Jerry;
there are things that I would like
to figure out about him.
There are things that I would like
to figure out about you.
Posted by mikel k poet at 2:14 PM 0 comments Links to this post
I am only good for drinking poems
and writing coffee in the morning,
which should tell you that I am groggy
during that period of time near waking.
Posted by mikel k poet at 1:36 PM 0 comments Links to this post
adho mukha svanasana
Posted by mikel k poet at 1:00 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Go figure the weather

The sun pulls me apart.
The moon puts me back together.
Posted by mikel k poet at 12:38 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Star light not always bright

If you suddenly choose to be lightening
don't get mad if I steal your thunder;
the whole idea is frightening to me.
I am sad, sometimes, underneath the stars,
still, not thinking about you, and me,
just because it is my nature to get sad
underneath the stars.
Posted by mikel k poet at 12:19 AM 0 comments Links to this post
I like to cry, yell, scream.
I like to cheat, and steal.
I'm a lousy lover.
I don't have a job,
and don't want one.
I am very jealous.
I have low self-esteem.
I can't shut my mouth.
What's yours is mine,
and I don't have anything.
I don't own a house.
I don't have a car.
Will you go out with me?
Posted by mikel k poet at 12:12 AM 0 comments Links to this post
It was a successful day

I done no bong hits, today.
I put no blotter acid on my tongue.
I snorted no lines of speed, or cocaine.
I didn't drink any beer, bourbon, rum,
vodka, gin, long island tea, or do shots
of anything.
I didn't get handcuffed,
thrown in a cell.
I won't wake up covered in blood, and puke.
Posted by mikel k poet at 12:04 AM 0 comments Links to this post
SATURDAY, AUGUST 07, 2010
I'm alone (notice I didn't say lonely),
until you get here, if you get here at all.
I'm used to women not showing up,
when they are supposed to,
when they said they would,
I am used to women cancelling,
changing plans,
blowing me off altogether.
Scratch that; I will never get used to it,
and I will never like it.
I like for someone to call
when they say that they are going to call,
and I like for someone to show up
when they say that they are going to show up.
It's rather simple, actually.
I mean, I understand your situation, and all.
I am not your only concern.
and I never will be, and that should end "it<,
right there because I am looking for someone
in that period of there life where I can be
mostly her only concern, and I can be concerned about
mostly only her.
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:42 PM 0 comments Links to this post
If I could

If I could just move to the ocean
she said to herself, and out loud
to anyone who would listen.
If I could just get an MFA in Poetry,
he thought to himself,
and he told a bunch of people, also.
If I could just afford a bag of reefer,
thought a young lady.
If I could just afford a new car,
thought a young man.
If only I had a girlfriend,
thought the man to himself,
and then he told it to a girl at the bar,
hoping that she would take him up on the offer.
If only I had a canvass, and some paint,
thought the artist.
If only I hadn't run out of lithium,
thought the madman covered in blood.
If I could only think of a clever way
to end this poem, I would.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:03 PM 0 comments Links to this post
She combines the best of Carly Simon
and Faye Dunaway, when they were in their prime.
I would like to eat her pussy,
and then fix her breakfast in the morning.
I haven't got a chance.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:12 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Vote for me because

Be on my side,
while I try to figure out
what side to be on.
I just want to win
the election,
pass inspection,
without letting you know
how I will really vote.
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:28 AM 0 comments Links to this post
FRIDAY, AUGUST 06, 2010
Reach for the money
use your brains
to acquire the finer things.
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:46 PM 0 comments Links to this post
gam·bol 
–verb (used without object)
1.to skip about, as in dancing or playing; frolic.
–noun
2.
a skipping or frisking about; frolic.


Main Entry: roil
Function: verb
transitive verb
1 a : to make turbid by stirring up the sediment or dregs of b : to stir up : disturb, disorder
2 : rile 1
intransitive verb
: to move turbulently : be in a state of turbulence or agitation
Posted by mikel k poet at 1:32 PM 0 comments Links to this post
One of my most fun, and interesting, places to go on the internet is to Susan Henderson's , "Lit Park," site. Susan is a writer, with a beautiful new novel,
"Up From The Blue," coming out in September.

(http://www.publishersmarketplace.com/members/SusanHenderson/)

Lit Park, like Susan is, as a person, si an intelligent, fun site with an interesting, and challenging question of the month. Why don't you click below, and answer this month's question, and please buy, "Up From The Blue," when it comes out; you will love it!

http://networkedblogs.com/6qNA8

Bless me father, I forgot a few things

We were children playing with fire,
driving a car in the sleet,
going real slow,
hoping to get it home before
his mother got home.
We were thirteen then,
and we got drunk on the weekends.
I lifted candy bars from the store,
and sold them out of my desk at school.
I stole sneakers, eight tracks,
and eventually a car.
None of this I confessed in the booth
when they made me go.
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:23 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Facebook is the institution.
Facebook is the holding cell,
and Facebook can be a prison.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:05 PM 0 comments Links to this post
The only requirement for membership is a desire to stop drinking.
Posted by mikel k poet at 2:45 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Precious

I was walking down Euclid Ave.
Posted by mikel k poet at 1:55 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Blink of an I

I could have loved you,
but the moment has passed,
it danced away,
or walked,
or ran.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:34 AM 0 comments Links to this post
It's hard to believe that I was once a skinny kid who didn't know how to fight; and it is, now, hard to believe that I am a fat old man with a fake hip. In between these times, there have been a lot of me's. There was the me that was an honor roll student, in both high school, and college. There was the me that smoked a pack of cigarettes for almost 20 years.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:07 AM 0 comments Links to this post
The end of my career

She accused me of being "pensive,"
as if there was something wrong with that.
She likes her men stupid, I assume,
their conversation to go no further than
football and beer.
I drank my fair share of beer,
but have never been into football,
except for the brief time in the sixth grade
where I played it with the "cool" kids
on the back lot of the elementary school.
They learned that I could catch the ball well,
so they let me into their little clique.
My parents would not let me play
organized football, so when I quit hanging out
with the cool kids, my football career ended.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:37 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Some of us

We've all been happy.
We've all been sad.
Many of us have been poor,
some of us have been rich.
Some of us are scared of dogs.
Some of us are allergic to cats.
We've entered tall buildings.
We've driven in cars.
Some of us have gotten really high.
Cell phones might be killing us,
but still we stick them to our ear.
Some of us say two men or two women
shouldn't be allowed to marry;
that that is simply queer.
Some of us won't eat ice cream.
Some of us can't stand other people's kids.
Some of us are good.
Some of us are bad.
Some of us are happy.
Some of us are mad.
Some of us have hitchhiked.
Some of us have never left home.
Some of us have been to New York City.
Some of us have been to Rome.
Some of you are still reading this poem.
Some of you have left it alone.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:28 AM 0 comments Links to this post
MONDAY, AUGUST 16, 2010
Perspective

In Pakistan people are starving
and there is piss to drink,
so I will not complain, today,
if my coffee is cold.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:53 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Tuition

You can't put a price on love,
unless you figure in socks, and shoes,
and college educations.
Posted by mikel k poet at 1:06 PM 0 comments Links to this post
A general needs a war.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:38 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Unwanted

It's not nice to feel unwanted
like an old teddy bear
that used to get love
but now sits in a box
in the basement
gathering dust
home for spider webs.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:29 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Let me whisper in your ear

What's that on your face,
a smile because you are happy
to seem me?
What's that on your tongue,
words that say I love you?
What do I see in your eyes,
pleasure that I am standing
in front of you?
Take my hand,
and let's walk through eternity.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:14 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Tremors

The pictures that she posted
weren't really her.
The voice on the telephone
was not hers.
When I shook her hand
it was not her hand
that I was shaking,
still I shook when
I looked at her picture,
when I talked to her
on the phone,
and when I shook her hand.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:11 AM 0 comments Links to this post
SUNDAY, AUGUST 15, 2010
Special

I like to feel special.
I like to feel special.
Do you like to feel special?
I would like to find someone
to make feel special.
I would like to find someone
who makes me feel special.
Special.
Special.
Special.
Special,
is how I would like to make you feel.
Special.
Special.
Special.
Special,
is how I would like you to make me feel.
Special.
Special.
Special.
Special.
Posted by mikel k poet at 4:34 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Perhaps you could

The passage of time
is etched in my mind,
though I can't remember
everywhere I have been,
every thought that I have
thought, every word
that I have spoken,
every smile that I have smiled.
If you were here,
perhaps you could.
Posted by mikel k poet at 4:03 PM 0 comments Links to this post
I don't want to do like
anybody else already done,
I want to do something new.
And they tell me that I'm beat
from the starting gun; no fun.
I'll put my shoe on then my sock,
won't that rock,
but I can't come see you,
cuz I can't walk.
Posted by mikel k poet at 2:58 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Hail

You can't smell his anus
still you're down on your knees
bowing to a man
who doesn't even say please.
You're taught to pray
each of you in the same way
to one God above
one God above
one God above
who looks like Santa Claus.
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:20 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Over breakfast

He leaves nothing to our imagination,
still we offer him endless fascination.
Boobs will follow mindlessly,
pledging loyalty to the stupidest things.
But who am I to criticize,
I worship bran cereal with banana.
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:56 AM 0 comments Links to this post
You are beautiful

You are beautiful
as you are,
wherever you are,
however you are;
if the sun is shining,
if the moon is out,
upon waking,
and before you fall asleep.
You are beautiful
when you are pouting.
You are beautiful
when you smile.
You are beautiful
when you are here.
You are beautiful
when you are gone.
You are beautiful
in person.
You are beautiful
on the telephone.
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:44 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Oh to be part of nature

I'd like to be a giraffe,
so that I could see over things.
I'd like to be a lion
to see what being
King of the jungle brings.
I'd like to be an owl,
hoping I'd be wise.
I'd like to be a turtle,
for going slow
I'd make no alibis.
I'd like to be a cow
so that they could
pump me up with antibiotics
and growth hormones,
let me live in overcrowded conditions,
before they slaughtered me,
and put me on your plate.
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:18 AM 0 comments Links to this post
The eagle doesn't fly with the dove.
The eagle eats the dove,
like it was an item on a buffet.
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:09 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Bless me father

I'm pregnant
with pause,
and thought,
not baby.
I'm not
the first man
to give birth,
banish the thought.
I just need
to lose weight.
We all need forgiveness,
but can we really get it
down on our knees,
whispering in the dark
to a potential child molester.
Not all priests are bad,
but the ones who have been
have left the others
wide open for attack.
Don't I have anything
better to do
on a Sunday
than hurl accusations
in the dark
at strangers?
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:03 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Should marriage be the goal of love

You put the ring on her finger,
and that proves it, that proves
that she is the one.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:57 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Mornings were reserved for hangovers

I have not had cereal, yet, this morning
but, too, I did not wake up,
and have myself a beer.
Come to think of it, I was not
much of a morning drinker.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:48 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Air conditioning: what a gift!

Until I turned the air conditioner on,
I was in a bad mood, feeling evil.
Heat is my nemesis, it paralyzes me,
causes me to see no good in the world.
There is no pill that I can take
that will make me adapt to heat,
that will make the bad things
that heat does to me go away.
That being said, I am thankful
for my present condition
where air conditioning is present.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:42 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Funny that Lord

Man will eat anything,
ducks, turtles, snails,
sharks, alligators, snakes,
and on and on.
The Lord put all those animals
here for us to eat,
just like The Lord backs us
in any war that we choose to wage.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:37 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Behavior Modification

Though the sun illuminates my world
there are times when it is not my friend
like when I am standing at a bus stop
waiting for a bus that has no immediate plans
to arrive, and it is beating down on me mercilessly
in mid to high ninety degree summer weather.

The moon on the other hand is almost always cool,
a trustworthy companion to the stars who twinkle
happily in the sky as I gaze up at them in wonder.

I will have to send the sun in for counseling;
some therapy could make it more cooperative.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:30 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Quack quack quack

I am a private man,
except when I am public.
I am a quiet man,
except when I am raucous.
I am a pleasant man,
except when I'm not.
I could be your man,
but I won't be.
I will continue
picking flowers alone.
I don't pay for cable,
so I won't watch tv alone.
There is only room for one
in this chair, so even if
you appear, you can't sit here.
The dishes are dirty,
I wouldn't expect you to wash them.
I don't have a car,
will you walk with me to the park,
and look at the ducks.
They will go, "Quack, quack, quack,"
as I look in your eyes,
the moon illuminating
the beauty of your smile.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:23 AM 0 comments Links to this post
SATURDAY, AUGUST 14, 2010
Don't think

I crave her body
not her mind
I'll find out
what she has to say
once we are done.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:40 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Yearning

She will return,
though she has never been here.
I will kiss her, again,
though I have yet to kiss her.
We will have dinner on the porch, again,
though we have never dined together.
In my eye, she is the most beautiful woman
who I have every seen, though I have yet
to lay my eyes upon her.
She will lay her head upon my chest,
as we head off to sleep,
though we have never slept together before.
Yearning does not always result in a result.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:26 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Most little skinny men can't fight,
and large men don't much have to fight,
unless they choose to get drunk
and do stupid things.
Skinny men, and large men who are drunk
can, both, find themselves in jail.
I have been skinny, so skinny
when I got to Atlanta
that the brothers on the street,
used to call me, "Whiteboy."
"Hey Whiteboy, you got a dollar.
Hey Whiteboy, you got a cigarette."
I guess that my years in the gym paid off,
because now on the street they say,
"Hey Big man, you got a dollar?
Hey Big Man, you got a cigarette?"
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:20 PM 0 comments Links to this post
I'm not good looking enough

I'm not good looking enough
to attract most women,
I can bring some to my body
through my mind.
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:25 PM 0 comments Links to this post
The pre-cancer spot on my arm that the dermatologist froze the other day, today looks like a small planet, a very ugly planet with red rings circling it. The process of its disintegration is fascinating. It will leave the surface of my arm in stages, until my arm will look as if it was never there. That is what I am figuring, anyway; who knows, the spot may turn into a small scar on my arm, a battle scar of sorts, showing that I fought the battle, and won.

The spot on my upper arm, the right arm, where Larry was cut off, looks almost normal. There is a little red mark that is barely visible just off the tip of my angel tattoo. As innocuous as it looks, it's presence is not benign yet, until the test results come in. I am hoping for the best, of course.

A young lady came up to me last night, in the club that I was spewing some Spoken Word Blues at, and said, "You are the most beautiful man."

She was pretty drunk, but this was still a nice compliment to receive. Her boyfriend soon showed. Why is it that single women are never interested in me?!
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:02 PM 0 comments Links to this post
When the lunch special is not special

I hope that they don't kill that goat.
I hope that they don't kill that goat,
I've gotten to know him, just like I would a dog.
Oh no they have killed that goat,
and now they are trying to feed him to me.
Posted by mikel k poet at 2:41 PM 0 comments Links to this post
No visit necessary

I wish that I had a banana tree,
and lettuce growing in my garden,
and tomatoes,
and onions,
and peppers,
and mushrooms.
I wish that I had an orange tree,
an apple tree visible in the window
in front of me.
I wish that I had grapes growing
in my back yard.
Then I wouldn't have to go to
the grocery store like I am about
to do, right now.
Posted by mikel k poet at 1:55 PM 0 comments Links to this post
1:53 p.m.

I've seen the smarmy side of town,
where in the summer people are hot,
and in the winter they can't stay warm.
I've never been stuck there,
but I've been close.
There must be someone looking out for me;
my possessions have never been kicked to the curb.
Somebody once stole my record collection.
I think I know who it was.
It was another record collector.
I had some pretty good vinyl.
I was a music writer at the time,
and bands were always giving their music to me.
Really it doesn't matter what you gain,
and what you lose.
I'm not sure that I believe that,
but it sounds good.
It's time for lunch; I hate to miss lunch.
Posted by mikel k poet at 1:47 PM 0 comments Links to this post
A John I'm Not

I love you, baby.
Are you for hire?
No. No.
I don't mean like that.
I mean
is your love available?
Posted by mikel k poet at 1:45 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Surrender

I'm a zombie so far today.
Went to bed naked,
woke up clothed,
someone in my dreams
took advantage of me.
I'm not ready,yet
for this world.
My bed is calling out to me.
I will succumb.
I will surrender.
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:55 AM 0 comments Links to this post
He is a dick head money grubbing bastard.
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:23 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Saved

I'm walking to the kitchen
to make some toast
but then I remember
that I don't have any bread,
so I say that I'll make
an omelet,
but I don't have any eggs.
Maybe I need to stand
on a street corner, and beg.
"Hey Mister, I need some money
for bread."
"Hey Mam, I need some money
for eggs."
But then I remember
that I have oatmeal,
and I am saved.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:38 AM 0 comments Links to this post
FRIDAY, AUGUST 13, 2010
Dusty destiny

I had that book,
and I may still have it
which leads me to the question
why do I read some books get read,
and others lay on the shelf
gathering dust
destined to be sold at a garage sale
or sat by the curb?
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:54 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Go ask Alice

Entire towns were never awful
the world was never bad,
it was just a feeling
that I used to carry with me
inside my head.
The towns have not changed,
the world isn't any different
but they all look like
so much better places
now that I am on this little pill.
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:44 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Ten percent

It seems that opportunity
is here again,
a man has called me
his "friend,"
and is going to let me
sell something for him.
Give me an opportunity,
please don't screw me.
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:36 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Sitting around
waiting for
an answer
to come to me.
It's been evading me,
doesn't want to show
itself.
Sometimes, you have to
wait awhile for the truth.
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:20 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Dear Mr. Fantasy

Dear Mr. Fantasy,
is she really in love with me?
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:25 AM 0 comments Links to this post
The growth is gone

The growth on my arm is gone.
I reach for it still.
I can't say I miss it,
but I certainly know
that it is no longer there.
The doctor cut it off, yesterday,
and shipped it off to some lab.
The lab will tell us
if it is cancer, or not.
I hope that it is not cancer.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:23 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Sig Heil

It's now a criminal offense,
but it used to be mandatory
to say hello this way.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:20 AM 0 comments Links to this post
While listening to Box of Rain

Speak out,
but know
what
you
speak.

Reach out,
but know
what
you
are
reaching for.

Smile,
because
it
is
good
for you,
and
those
around you.
Don't
be
surprised
if
people
smile back
at you.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:00 AM 0 comments Links to this post
THURSDAY, AUGUST 12, 2010
Why didn't Santana kill himself,
like Jimi Hendrix did?

Bless me father, I forgot a few things

We were children playing with fire,
driving a car in the sleet,
going real slow,
hoping to get it home before
his mother got home.
We were thirteen then,
and we got drunk on the weekends.
I lifted candy bars from the store,
and sold them out of my desk at school.
I stole sneakers, eight tracks,
and eventually a car.
None of this I confessed in the booth
when they made me go.
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:23 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Facebook is the institution.
Facebook is the holding cell,
and Facebook can be a prison.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:05 PM 0 comments Links to this post
The only requirement for membership is a desire to stop drinking.
Posted by mikel k poet at 2:45 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Precious

I was walking down Euclid Ave.
Posted by mikel k poet at 1:55 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Blink of an I

I could have loved you,
but the moment has passed,
it danced away,
or walked,
or ran.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:34 AM 0 comments Links to this post
It's hard to believe that I was once a skinny kid who didn't know how to fight; and it is, now, hard to believe that I am a fat old man with a fake hip. In between these times, there have been a lot of me's. There was the me that was an honor roll student, in both high school, and college. There was the me that smoked a pack of cigarettes for almost 20 years.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:07 AM 0 comments Links to this post
The end of my career

She accused me of being "pensive,"
as if there was something wrong with that.
She likes her men stupid, I assume,
their conversation to go no further than
football and beer.
I drank my fair share of beer,
but have never been into football,
except for the brief time in the sixth grade
where I played it with the "cool" kids
on the back lot of the elementary school.
They learned that I could catch the ball well,
so they let me into their little clique.
My parents would not let me play
organized football, so when I quit hanging out
with the cool kids, my football career ended.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:37 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Some of us

We've all been happy.
We've all been sad.
Many of us have been poor,
some of us have been rich.
Some of us are scared of dogs.
Some of us are allergic to cats.
We've entered tall buildings.
We've driven in cars.
Some of us have gotten really high.
Cell phones might be killing us,
but still we stick them to our ear.
Some of us say two men or two women
shouldn't be allowed to marry;
that that is simply queer.
Some of us won't eat ice cream.
Some of us can't stand other people's kids.
Some of us are good.
Some of us are bad.
Some of us are happy.
Some of us are mad.
Some of us have hitchhiked.
Some of us have never left home.
Some of us have been to New York City.
Some of us have been to Rome.
Some of you are still reading this poem.
Some of you have left it alone.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:28 AM 0 comments Links to this post
MONDAY, AUGUST 16, 2010
Perspective

In Pakistan people are starving
and there is piss to drink,
so I will not complain, today,
if my coffee is cold.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:53 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Tuition

You can't put a price on love,
unless you figure in socks, and shoes,
and college educations.
Posted by mikel k poet at 1:06 PM 0 comments Links to this post
A general needs a war.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:38 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Unwanted

It's not nice to feel unwanted
like an old teddy bear
that used to get love
but now sits in a box
in the basement
gathering dust
home for spider webs.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:29 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Let me whisper in your ear

What's that on your face,
a smile because you are happy
to seem me?
What's that on your tongue,
words that say I love you?
What do I see in your eyes,
pleasure that I am standing
in front of you?
Take my hand,
and let's walk through eternity.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:14 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Tremors

The pictures that she posted
weren't really her.
The voice on the telephone
was not hers.
When I shook her hand
it was not her hand
that I was shaking,
still I shook when
I looked at her picture,
when I talked to her
on the phone,
and when I shook her hand.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:11 AM 0 comments Links to this post
SUNDAY, AUGUST 15, 2010
Special

I like to feel special.
I like to feel special.
Do you like to feel special?
I would like to find someone
to make feel special.
I would like to find someone
who makes me feel special.
Special.
Special.
Special.
Special,
is how I would like to make you feel.
Special.
Special.
Special.
Special,
is how I would like you to make me feel.
Special.
Special.
Special.
Special.
Posted by mikel k poet at 4:34 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Perhaps you could

The passage of time
is etched in my mind,
though I can't remember
everywhere I have been,
every thought that I have
thought, every word
that I have spoken,
every smile that I have smiled.
If you were here,
perhaps you could.
Posted by mikel k poet at 4:03 PM 0 comments Links to this post
I don't want to do like
anybody else already done,
I want to do something new.
And they tell me that I'm beat
from the starting gun; no fun.
I'll put my shoe on then my sock,
won't that rock,
but I can't come see you,
cuz I can't walk.
Posted by mikel k poet at 2:58 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Hail

You can't smell his anus
still you're down on your knees
bowing to a man
who doesn't even say please.
You're taught to pray
each of you in the same way
to one God above
one God above
one God above
who looks like Santa Claus.
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:20 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Over breakfast

He leaves nothing to our imagination,
still we offer him endless fascination.
Boobs will follow mindlessly,
pledging loyalty to the stupidest things.
But who am I to criticize,
I worship bran cereal with banana.
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:56 AM 0 comments Links to this post
You are beautiful

You are beautiful
as you are,
wherever you are,
however you are;
if the sun is shining,
if the moon is out,
upon waking,
and before you fall asleep.
You are beautiful
when you are pouting.
You are beautiful
when you smile.
You are beautiful
when you are here.
You are beautiful
when you are gone.
You are beautiful
in person.
You are beautiful
on the telephone.
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:44 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Oh to be part of nature

I'd like to be a giraffe,
so that I could see over things.
I'd like to be a lion
to see what being
King of the jungle brings.
I'd like to be an owl,
hoping I'd be wise.
I'd like to be a turtle,
for going slow
I'd make no alibis.
I'd like to be a cow
so that they could
pump me up with antibiotics
and growth hormones,
let me live in overcrowded conditions,
before they slaughtered me,
and put me on your plate.
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:18 AM 0 comments Links to this post
The eagle doesn't fly with the dove.
The eagle eats the dove,
like it was an item on a buffet.
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:09 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Bless me father

I'm pregnant
with pause,
and thought,
not baby.
I'm not
the first man
to give birth,
banish the thought.
I just need
to lose weight.
We all need forgiveness,
but can we really get it
down on our knees,
whispering in the dark
to a potential child molester.
Not all priests are bad,
but the ones who have been
have left the others
wide open for attack.
Don't I have anything
better to do
on a Sunday
than hurl accusations
in the dark
at strangers?
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:03 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Should marriage be the goal of love

You put the ring on her finger,
and that proves it, that proves
that she is the one.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:57 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Mornings were reserved for hangovers

I have not had cereal, yet, this morning
but, too, I did not wake up,
and have myself a beer.
Come to think of it, I was not
much of a morning drinker.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:48 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Air conditioning: what a gift!

Until I turned the air conditioner on,
I was in a bad mood, feeling evil.
Heat is my nemesis, it paralyzes me,
causes me to see no good in the world.
There is no pill that I can take
that will make me adapt to heat,
that will make the bad things
that heat does to me go away.
That being said, I am thankful
for my present condition
where air conditioning is present.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:42 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Funny that Lord

Man will eat anything,
ducks, turtles, snails,
sharks, alligators, snakes,
and on and on.
The Lord put all those animals
here for us to eat,
just like The Lord backs us
in any war that we choose to wage.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:37 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Behavior Modification

Though the sun illuminates my world
there are times when it is not my friend
like when I am standing at a bus stop
waiting for a bus that has no immediate plans
to arrive, and it is beating down on me mercilessly
in mid to high ninety degree summer weather.

The moon on the other hand is almost always cool,
a trustworthy companion to the stars who twinkle
happily in the sky as I gaze up at them in wonder.

I will have to send the sun in for counseling;
some therapy could make it more cooperative.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:30 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Quack quack quack

I am a private man,
except when I am public.
I am a quiet man,
except when I am raucous.
I am a pleasant man,
except when I'm not.
I could be your man,
but I won't be.
I will continue
picking flowers alone.
I don't pay for cable,
so I won't watch tv alone.
There is only room for one
in this chair, so even if
you appear, you can't sit here.
The dishes are dirty,
I wouldn't expect you to wash them.
I don't have a car,
will you walk with me to the park,
and look at the ducks.
They will go, "Quack, quack, quack,"
as I look in your eyes,
the moon illuminating
the beauty of your smile.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:23 AM 0 comments Links to this post
SATURDAY, AUGUST 14, 2010
Don't think

I crave her body
not her mind
I'll find out
what she has to say
once we are done.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:40 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Yearning

She will return,
though she has never been here.
I will kiss her, again,
though I have yet to kiss her.
We will have dinner on the porch, again,
though we have never dined together.
In my eye, she is the most beautiful woman
who I have every seen, though I have yet
to lay my eyes upon her.
She will lay her head upon my chest,
as we head off to sleep,
though we have never slept together before.
Yearning does not always result in a result.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:26 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Most little skinny men can't fight,
and large men don't much have to fight,
unless they choose to get drunk
and do stupid things.
Skinny men, and large men who are drunk
can, both, find themselves in jail.
I have been skinny, so skinny
when I got to Atlanta
that the brothers on the street,
used to call me, "Whiteboy."
"Hey Whiteboy, you got a dollar.
Hey Whiteboy, you got a cigarette."
I guess that my years in the gym paid off,
because now on the street they say,
"Hey Big man, you got a dollar?
Hey Big Man, you got a cigarette?"
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:20 PM 0 comments Links to this post
I'm not good looking enough

I'm not good looking enough
to attract most women,
I can bring some to my body
through my mind.
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:25 PM 0 comments Links to this post
The pre-cancer spot on my arm that the dermatologist froze the other day, today looks like a small planet, a very ugly planet with red rings circling it. The process of its disintegration is fascinating. It will leave the surface of my arm in stages, until my arm will look as if it was never there. That is what I am figuring, anyway; who knows, the spot may turn into a small scar on my arm, a battle scar of sorts, showing that I fought the battle, and won.

The spot on my upper arm, the right arm, where Larry was cut off, looks almost normal. There is a little red mark that is barely visible just off the tip of my angel tattoo. As innocuous as it looks, it's presence is not benign yet, until the test results come in. I am hoping for the best, of course.

A young lady came up to me last night, in the club that I was spewing some Spoken Word Blues at, and said, "You are the most beautiful man."

She was pretty drunk, but this was still a nice compliment to receive. Her boyfriend soon showed. Why is it that single women are never interested in me?!
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:02 PM 0 comments Links to this post
When the lunch special is not special

I hope that they don't kill that goat.
I hope that they don't kill that goat,
I've gotten to know him, just like I would a dog.
Oh no they have killed that goat,
and now they are trying to feed him to me.
Posted by mikel k poet at 2:41 PM 0 comments Links to this post
No visit necessary

I wish that I had a banana tree,
and lettuce growing in my garden,
and tomatoes,
and onions,
and peppers,
and mushrooms.
I wish that I had an orange tree,
an apple tree visible in the window
in front of me.
I wish that I had grapes growing
in my back yard.
Then I wouldn't have to go to
the grocery store like I am about
to do, right now.
Posted by mikel k poet at 1:55 PM 0 comments Links to this post
1:53 p.m.

I've seen the smarmy side of town,
where in the summer people are hot,
and in the winter they can't stay warm.
I've never been stuck there,
but I've been close.
There must be someone looking out for me;
my possessions have never been kicked to the curb.
Somebody once stole my record collection.
I think I know who it was.
It was another record collector.
I had some pretty good vinyl.
I was a music writer at the time,
and bands were always giving their music to me.
Really it doesn't matter what you gain,
and what you lose.
I'm not sure that I believe that,
but it sounds good.
It's time for lunch; I hate to miss lunch.
Posted by mikel k poet at 1:47 PM 0 comments Links to this post
A John I'm Not

I love you, baby.
Are you for hire?
No. No.
I don't mean like that.
I mean
is your love available?
Posted by mikel k poet at 1:45 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Surrender

I'm a zombie so far today.
Went to bed naked,
woke up clothed,
someone in my dreams
took advantage of me.
I'm not ready,yet
for this world.
My bed is calling out to me.
I will succumb.
I will surrender.
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:55 AM 0 comments Links to this post
He is a dick head money grubbing bastard.
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:23 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Saved

I'm walking to the kitchen
to make some toast
but then I remember
that I don't have any bread,
so I say that I'll make
an omelet,
but I don't have any eggs.
Maybe I need to stand
on a street corner, and beg.
"Hey Mister, I need some money
for bread."
"Hey Mam, I need some money
for eggs."
But then I remember
that I have oatmeal,
and I am saved.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:38 AM 0 comments Links to this post
FRIDAY, AUGUST 13, 2010
Dusty destiny

I had that book,
and I may still have it
which leads me to the question
why do I read some books get read,
and others lay on the shelf
gathering dust
destined to be sold at a garage sale
or sat by the curb?
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:54 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Go ask Alice

Entire towns were never awful
the world was never bad,
it was just a feeling
that I used to carry with me
inside my head.
The towns have not changed,
the world isn't any different
but they all look like
so much better places
now that I am on this little pill.
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:44 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Ten percent

It seems that opportunity
is here again,
a man has called me
his "friend,"
and is going to let me
sell something for him.
Give me an opportunity,
please don't screw me.
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:36 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Sitting around
waiting for
an answer
to come to me.
It's been evading me,
doesn't want to show
itself.
Sometimes, you have to
wait awhile for the truth.
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:20 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Dear Mr. Fantasy

Dear Mr. Fantasy,
is she really in love with me?
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:25 AM 0 comments Links to this post
The growth is gone

The growth on my arm is gone.
I reach for it still.
I can't say I miss it,
but I certainly know
that it is no longer there.
The doctor cut it off, yesterday,
and shipped it off to some lab.
The lab will tell us
if it is cancer, or not.
I hope that it is not cancer.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:23 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Sig Heil

It's now a criminal offense,
but it used to be mandatory
to say hello this way.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:20 AM 0 comments Links to this post
While listening to Box of Rain

Speak out,
but know
what
you
speak.

Reach out,
but know
what
you
are
reaching for.

Smile,
because
it
is
good
for you,
and
those
around you.
Don't
be
surprised
if
people
smile back
at you

If you are a writer and you don't write

If you are a writer, and you don't write,
then you are not a writer. I'm not sure
what you are if you are a writer,
and you don't write; maybe you are
a fire man, or an infantry soldier,
or President of The United States.
Maybe you are a used car salesman,
or maybe you go door to door
collecting money for the environment,
or selling vacuum cleaners, or encyclopedias.
Maybe you are a lawyer, or someone
who collects coins, or stamps.
I'm not sure, but I am sure that
if you are a writer, and you don't write
that you are not a writer.
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:18 AM 0 comments Links to this post
I feel sorry for Sam Stone,
and can understand it if
he feels a need to wear
an "Illegal Smile."
John Prine, and I, have
a history.
We go way back to
my sophomore year of college,
when my freshman roommate,
who had dropped out of college,
after his freshman year,
showed up wearing a weird cowboy hat
and carrying this album
by this weird singer,
who I got attached to
almost immediately.
"There's a hole in Daddy's arm,
where all the money goes."
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:15 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Some things are not visible

I am unable to correctly position myself
in many of the asanas,
but there was a time when
I could not position myself
in any of the asanas.
Progress comes one class at a time,
one home practice at a time.
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:12 AM 0 comments Links to this post
No knee to rock on

I never met my grandfather,
either of them.
They lived in Ireland,
and I was born in Hartford, Ct.
They might, even, have died
before I was born.
Can you miss something
that you never had?
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:06 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Am I only as good as my last poem?

I am prolific.
I have nearly twenty years of notebooks
filled with writing,
piled on several book shelves.
I have ten years of writing stored
in various computers.
Will any of it ever be read?
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:00 AM 0 comments Links to this post
WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 18, 2010
Pitter Patter

Sometimes I hear footsteps
coming from the apartment next to mine
they are not quiet footsteps,
they are the footsteps of Henry
the Great Dane who lives next door.
I don't find those footsteps disturbing,
I am happy to know that Henry is alive,
and well.
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:38 PM 0 comments Links to this post
"What's one less person on the face of the earth, anyway?"
— Ted Bundy

This kills me; simply kills me. Was the guy tongue in cheeking it, or was he for real? I am glad that he is one less person on the face of the earth. Fuck him.
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:03 AM 0 comments Links to this post
An encounter in the meat dept.

I salivate over beautiful women
they feel my eyes beating upon them
in the grocery store
when they look up
I grab a banana or some frozen shrimp
and try to act like I'm not interested
they follow me to the checkout line
trying to figure me out
they drive by me as I walk away
from the store
their lives will never be the same
once I have cast my eyes upon them.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:05 AM 0 comments Links to this post
No need for greed or hunger.
No need for greed or hunger.
No need for greed or hunger.
No need for greed or hunger.
No need for greed or hunger.
No need for greed or hunger.
No need for greed or hunger.
No need for greed or hunger.
No need for greed or hunger.
No need for greed or hunger.
No need for greed or hunger.
No need for greed or hunger.
No need for greed or hunger.
No need for greed or hunger.
No need for greed or hunger.
No need for greed or hunger.

--John Lennon
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:41 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Heaven

Heaven is a plate of food
when I'm hungry.
Heaven is my dog licking my hand,
even though I don't want him to.
Heaven is an afternoon
where my daughter comes home
and spends time with me,
it is always such fun.
Heaven is when my youngest son
calls every day, and comes
to see me more than just once
every other month, or so.
Heaven is when my oldest boy
drops by with his son,
and his wife.
Heaven is when I remember
to check my blood sugar
in the morning.
Heaven is that first cup
of coffee after slowly waking.
Heaven is the music
that I am listening to.
Heaven is the ability
to write that I have been given,
and have developed over the years.
Heaven is the way I feel
when I dream about my future,
about living the life
that I had always planned on living.
Heaven is now, baby.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:29 AM 0 comments Links to this post
What good is confession?

I want to confess to a stranger
get it off my chest
be absolved move on start over
but what if I keep on doing
the same things over, and over
what good is confession?
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:22 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Holly C: yep. he(Jim Croce)is one of the ones that makes you feel sorry for the kids today, for what they think music is. thank god mine knows good music from bad.

Mikel K Poet The kid find the good stuff that their contemporaries are making, and it is good. We are too wrapped in our own music to have the time, and or interest to listen to theirs. I was trying to turn Scout onto several songs by The Grateful Dead; she had heard of them, but never heard anything by them.
Posted by mikel k poet at 12:10 AM 0 comments Links to this post
TUESDAY, AUGUST 17, 2010
Emily: what u wearing lol

Mikel K: Black gym shorts
I always wear black gym shorts
Now we re supposed to boycott Target
where I buy my black gym shorts,
and I need new ones
Fuck The Revolution.
I need new black gym shorts.


I can't be an after-thought,
I'd rather be you only thought;
just don't stalk me,
that would be such a calamity.
Posted by mikel k poet at 1:37 AM 0 comments Links to this post
FRIDAY, AUGUST 20, 2010
ADMISSIONS REQUIREMENTS
Vermont College of Fine Arts

APPLICATION DEADLINES
The following are semester application deadlines:

Summer 2010: application deadline, Feb. 15, 2010

Winter 2010/11: application deadline, Sept. 1, 2010

The MFA in Writing Program reviews applications on a rolling basis, so you may submit your application whenever it is ready. It may take three to four weeks to review.

Once you are accepted, your program will officially begin on the first day of one of the following MFA in Writing residencies:

Summer: June 27–July 8, 2010

Winter: Dec. 28, 2010-Jan. 8, 2011



ADMISSIONS CRITERIA
Admission to the MFA in Writing Program is based primarily on the quality of original work you submit. You must also hold a bachelor’s degree. In rare and special cases, we admit writers who have not earned an undergraduate degree. Please contact the program office for more information.



APPLICATION MATERIALS
You may request an application form sent by mail, or you can access the application form online. To be considered for admission, you must submit the following:

the application form — online application or download version (pdf)


10 pages of poetry, 20 to 25 pages of fiction or creative nonfiction (you may apply in one or more genres)


A two- to three-page essay that addresses your background in writing, goals, writing strengths, and weaknesses, etc. (as outlined on the application form)

A three- to four-page critical essay that demonstrates your abilities as a reader and critical thinker. This sample may be something formal that you have written previously for a class or you may write a short essay on a literary work you've read recently.

Two letters of recommendation that address your qualifications for graduate-level study in writing. No special form is required; letters may be addressed and sent directly to the Admissions Director.


A $75 non-refundable application fee (payable to Vermont College of Fine Arts).


An official copy of your undergraduate transcript sent directly to:
Admissions Director
MFA in Writing
Vermont College of Fine Arts
36 College St.
Montpelier, VT 05602
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:01 PM 0 comments Links to this post
I always wanted to be an outsider

I'm talking here about poetry.
I didn't want there to be an rules.
I didn't want to have any heroes.
I didn't need for it to be analyzed,
I just needed to write it.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:43 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Mikel K Poet 17 August at 22:59
YOU SO ROCK!

Sue William Silverman 17 August at 23:02
Thanks! Well, keep me posted.

Mikel K Poet 17 August at 23:09
You offer the exact program that I want, one where I can study and write poetry(I've been writing it since 1982), and study and write memoirs. (I have three written, now.) My daughter graduates high school in two years, and I would like to start my MFA her senior year, which is a year from now. I need to find some money!!!

Mikel K Poet 17 August at 23:26
Here is a question, Sue: Say I had to borrow money to get The MFA, what kind of job/career can be had with such a degree, and what is the current market for such. (That is, of course, if I don't write the next 40 million copies selling memoir!!)

Sue William Silverman 18 August at 09:00
Many of our graduates get teaching jobs. Others get professional writing jobs. If interested, you can contact Louise Crowley, our administrative director, who tracks things like that. She's on vacation this week, but you can find her contact info. on the vermont college of fine arts web site. hope this helps.
Posted by mikel k poet at 4:00 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Halfway through a cup of afternoon tea

My tea is almost gone,
I haven't withdrawn
from anything,
since I smoked my last smoke.
I need to start reading
this book.
Sometimes, it's fun
to fritter away a day.
I used to leave the house,
travel a distance,
and stand in line
to pay a bill.
Now I pay online.
My time is coming;
I can feel it.
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:40 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Mel or Bob

If pot was legal,
would I smoke it.
Booze is legal,
and it almost killed me.
I think that pot should be legal.
Who is more dangerous
a man or woman stoned on gin,
or a man or woman drunk
on the kind bud?
Who would you want
running the show,
Mel Gibson, or Bob Marley?
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:45 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Give it a whirl

Nestled among all the lousy thoughts
in my mind, was one good thought;
the thought that somehow, one day,
I wouldn't have to wrestle with
all the lousy thoughts, and what
you think can happen, often will happen
if you give it a whirl.
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:28 AM 0 comments Links to this post
They stared at me, blankly, last night,
but, then, I can not read their minds.
Maybe they all that I was a genius,
and not a madman up there on the microphone
screaming about revolution.
Perhaps I was an impediment to their enjoyment
of their nachos, maybe I made it hard
for them to hear themselves talk,
I mean, they didn't ask for me,
they didn't buy my book and pay
a cover charge to come see me.
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:22 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Me confessing

I could have done it anytime,
but I did it when I did,
and I'm glad that I did.
Waiting for her to arrive
with her eggs, I would starve.
The microphone jumped, last night,
when I cackled upon it.
They need to make a movie
about my life,
it would tell the world
how I've never had a wife.
What's wrong with me,
a priest might say.
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:01 AM 0 comments Links to this post
THURSDAY, AUGUST 19, 2010
You're almost done with work.
Will you be happy, once you get home?
Are you happy, now, at work?
Will you be happy in your car?
Posted by mikel k poet at 5:08 PM 0 comments Links to this post
She dissuaded me
by posting his picture,
he wearing a pink wig,
and smiling at me.
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:54 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Vision

I can tell you nothing
that you don't already know.
We all fish from the same pool
of knowledge,
so I will not tell you
what I know; I will tell you
what I see.
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:30 PM 0 comments Links to this post
The possibilities

She does not come up
when I put her in search.
Two hundred thousand other girls
with the same name, come up,
many of them smiling at me.
For a second, I am tempted
to start adding some of them,
see if such a random act
could lead to friendship,
or, worse yet, love.
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:19 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Not knocking on Heaven's door

As I age, I have less heroes
they have all been caught
in bed with their daughters
or have supported wars
that I think are stupid,
or worse than stupid,
wars to create new markets
for men, and women,
who already have millions
of dollars. Millions of
deaths do not bother them,
as long as the bottom line
is strong. Satan is happy.
He will hold the door open
for these folks and smile.
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:06 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Except with the cow

I'm drinking too much milk,
but it's ok, to a degree,
because I used to drink
too much whiskey;
that got me in trouble.
I don't think that drinking
too much milk will get me
in any trouble,
except with the cow.
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:01 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Instead

The state of circumstances is such
that I don't fine dine, and dance
in dance clubs much.
I will open a bottle of wine,
but it is not for me.
The symphony sounds more inviting,
than a night with a rock and roll band.
I don't need your sympathy,
things just move along,
and I am glad to still be here with them.
For awhile, I was a drifter,
if you catch my drift,
I went wherever my thumb took me,
up the coast, and back.
I had to stop, because I knew
that the adventure could last forever,
but there were things that I
had been told to be,
that I would never be,
if I stayed out there.
I came in,
I came off the highway,
but I never became even one of those things.
I became me, instead.
Posted by mikel k poet at 2:48 PM 0 comments Links to this post
By being young and stupid

An eye for an eye
the whipping post
just you and me
whoever beats the other's ass
has proved that he loves her more
because jealousy and violence
are honest components of love.
I'll bring a baseball bat,
you bring your best Tae Kwondo.
I'll bring a gun,
you bring your Jiu Jitsu,
and I'll see you in prison.
I'll read books about memory,
how I let mine slip away,
by being young and stupid.
Posted by mikel k poet at 1:13 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Listening to this song
I feel so left out, so alone
I'm sure they don't mean it
but they shut me out,
I guess that is what
a long distance will do.
I want to kiss you,
but I can't.
I want to throw you
in air,
I want to hear you giggle,
when I tickle you.
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:34 AM 0 comments Links to this post
A lot of ways to be happy

He hit the pipe, and he was sure
that he had found happiness.
I take my pills, and do my Yoga
and I am sure that I have found happiness.
She gets drunk every night,
and is sure that she is happy.
He drives a brand new Mercedes,
and he is sure that he is happy.
They have a new house
in a nice neighborhood,
and they are sure that they are happy.
A man just won twenty dollars
with a lottery ticket that he bought
with some money that he found,
and he is sure that he is happy.
She jogs, and is sure that she is happy.
He just met a girl at the club,
got her number, and he is sure
that he is happy.
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:27 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Who's going to bury me?

First of all, I have requested
that I be cremated,
but still it has to be paid for
and I don't have a dime,
so who I going to cremate me?


The cats don't care if their food is served to them in one of the fancy little bowls that I have bought for them. All they care about is the food. Right now, one of the cat bowls, the one that ostensibly belongs to Jaggar, is turned upside down, and for the last two days I have served Jaggar his morning ration of wet cat food on top of that upside down bowl, and my cat has not balked at all; he has dug right in, immediately eating the food, knowing, I'm sure, that as soon as my other cat, Kobain, finishes his food, from his not turned over bowl, that Kobain will come over, and take over Jaggar's food. Jaggar doesn't really care, he is more of a dry food cat.
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:16 AM 0 comments Links to this post
If you lock it up do you own it?

At what point does a person decide
to start stealing from you?
Do they wait until they think
that they can overpower you?
Do they wait until they think
that you are away?
Do they wait until they think
that they can out-think you?
Some people will never steal from you,
and this poem is not about them.
Someone stole my son's motorcycle,
his only means of transportation,
for them a joy ride, perhaps,
they keep his bike locked
in their fenced in yard,
as if it was their own.
I hope that this person sees
the inside of a jail cell,
that is never fun.
I have been there, but not for stealing,
just for being a drunk
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:02 AM 0 comments Links to this post
He pisses in a pickle jar
so that he doesn't have to
leave his room.
She is very good with 99 cent plant,
turns them into things of beauty,
with the assistance of some bug killer.
People are beautiful, really,
so idiosyncratic.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:37 AM 0 comments Links to this post
"The worst thing for a writer is to know another writer, and worse than that, to know a number of other writers. Like flies on the same turd."--Charles Bukowsk, Women
Posted by mikel k poet at 12:57 AM 0 comments Links to this post
SUNDAY, AUGUST 22, 2010
So love smart, and everything
you used to be,
then you met her,
your defenses went down.
Posted by mikel k poet at 2:21 PM 0 comments Links to this post
A spider from hell was having dinner
of my eyes, and all around me were
evil flies eating everything that I owned.
Posted by mikel k poet at 2:17 PM 0 comments Links to this post
To be a word man

There are people who can't understand it,
like my dead father, like my mother
who I haven't talked to in 35 years,
like the mothers and fathers
of most of the women who I have dated
since 1982, when I started scribbling
the poems in notebooks as I wandered
through this wonderful world,
but poetry is my "work."
I wasn't put here to be a lawyer,
or a doctor or to sell vacuum cleaners
door to door, I was put here
to be a word man.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:30 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Be glad that you're alive,
who knows what's next.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:27 AM 0 comments Links to this post
On a Sunday morning

Should I learn some words
that are uncommon to most of us
and place them in my poems?
By making my poems less accessible
will I greaten my chances of publication?
Do hard to understand words impress editors?
Maybe the words are not hard
for editors to understand.
Should poetry be written
for the mass of man, and woman,
or for an elite few,
those with MFA's and Ph d's in poetry?
Silly questions, perhaps,
but this is what is wandering
through my mind
as I listen to the water
spew from the filter
in my turtles' tank
on a Sunday morning.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:18 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Good for us

I don't know that I need company, this morning,
so I will stay where I am, at home,
with my dogs, cats, and turtles, instead of
going to the yoga studio that I love so much,
for the open session that occurs early on Sundays.
I prefer to be alone in the mornings,
I wake slowly, and like to be with my own thoughts
not influenced by the thoughts of others.
Maybe that is why it is Sunday, and I will not
be sitting in the pews, standing, kneeling, standing.
I can pray to The Lord, The Creator, my Higher Power,
from this chair at my desk, and, this morning,
I can do my Yoga on the mat that my dog Bundy
is currently sleeping on.
I don't really want any of my animals sleeping
on my Yoga mat, but there is little I can do about it,
so I look at the mat as the family mat instead of
just a mat for me alone.
Dogs, and cats, need to do yoga, also; it is good for them,
like it is good for me.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:09 AM 0 comments Links to this post
I Need A Rich Girl

I need a rich girl
to drive my deceased car
to the unemployment line,
so that I can get food stamps,
and avoid a job.

I need a pill that will fill me up,
not with envy.
I need a pill that will make me
feel friendly, not want to kill

I need a friend
in these united states of isolation,
where even hell's angels are afraid
to hitchhike,

where thinking outside the norm
could land you in jail.

I need a reason to go on living,
and I think that my children will do.





We Are The Children

We are the children of the sun
and the stars.

We are the children of the hippies,
who were strung out on peace and love,
and heroin when they conceived us.

We are the children of alcoholics,
conceived in blackouts.

We are the children of the punk rockers,
screwed into this world on beer and anger.

We are the children of the poor,
raised on welfare and food stamps,
and government housing.

We are the children of the middle class,
borrowing from the government to get a college degree,
to get a job with a pension from corporate amerika,
who has already fired our fathers and mothers,
before they could retire.

We are the children of the rich,
who, like our fathers and mothers before us,
care only about obtaining more wealth.

We are the children of the doctors, dentists,
and lawyers, who care more about their Porsches
and Mercedes than they do their patients.

We are the children of the American dream,
roaming the streets with a blanket,
and a garbage bag full of aluminum cans.

We are the children, who now have the children,
and we hope they won't learn racism from us,
like we learned it from our moms and dads.

We are the children who can change the inevitable,
alter our destiny, change the future from futile to
fruitful.

Amen.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:07 AM 0 comments Links to this post
There's been a change

I am now driven to happiness
like I was once driven to madness.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:02 AM 0 comments Links to this post
SATURDAY, AUGUST 21, 2010
Basic instinct

You signed up for everything,
but showed up at nothing
leaving a paper trail behind you
that no one could follow.
Soon, no one cared
where you would be,
and you had to find other ways
to attract interest.
Posted by mikel k poet at 5:38 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Pavlova didn't salivate/she danced
she was the first of her kind
to tour the world on her tippy toes
At first they would not let her enter
the world that she one day came to rule
because she looked sickly.
Sick how those who initially rejected her
must have felt when she rose to the top.
Posted by mikel k poet at 5:33 PM 0 comments Links to this post
I'm sorry.
I thought that you had sent me a form letter.
Many of the letters that I get are.
I would have sent you a personal reply,
had I not made the mistake.
I hope that you can forgive me.
Posted by mikel k poet at 5:27 PM 0 comments Links to this post
My heart flutters like a butterfly
when you walk in the door,
I can be busy as a bee,
but still think of you.
Posted by mikel k poet at 4:52 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Deceptions

You must love to perform,
because you are an actress,
in my arms, the only thing
you can't hide is your eyes,
and they look at me with contempt,
though your body says yes.
Posted by mikel k poet at 4:43 PM 0 comments Links to this post
The Jalapeno Experience

I bought some fresh jalapeño peppers
at the farmer's market
and, right now, my tongue is stinging
from the small amount of them
that I diced up, and sautéed,
with other vegetables
and ate with some egg whites;
worse, yet, I just rubbed my eye
and now I am running about the apartment
like a madman nearly screaming,
the pain of the jalapeño in my eye
being very intense.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:18 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Why do we do what we do
why don't we do something else?
I looked at art on walls, last night,
and talked to strangers
who became, if not friends,
more like friends,
or strangers on the path
to being friends.
I missed the food,
which was a bummer.
At this art opening,
you didn't go up to the food,
the food came to you,
on trays, held by smiling people.
I used to be one of
those smiling people,
but,at that time in my life,
I wasn't smiling inside,
I wanted to be on the other side
of that try,
and last night I was,
but I have learned how to smile
no matter where I am, these days.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:29 AM 0 comments Links to this post
You smoke, and you're a Republican;
that pretty much eliminates
any chance for intimacy between us.

I don't reach out
and touch some people,
so they don't reach out,
and touch me.
It's not really a crime, though,
that is just the way life goes.
Some people you stay in touch with,
and some only touch you for a brief while.
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:58 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Most things never happen as we imagine they might.
How many suckers have bought a lottery ticket?
How many men have married their high school sweet hearts,
soon realizing that they should have gone to college?
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:29 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Reward a teacher
with more than a stapler
and a pass to the zoo.
Posted by mikel k poet at 5:03 PM 0 comments Links to this post
I don't go to the horse races.
I don't got to boxing matches.
I eat my cereal in the morning,
with banana, if I have one/some,
and, then, I often crawl
back into bed.
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:27 AM 0 comments Links to this post
WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 25, 2010
She is soft to the touch,
though I have never touched her.
She is quick on her feet,
though I have never
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:00 PM 0 comments Links to this post
On target

Finally, she has a only a bow,
and I have only an arrow;
we are no longer able, or interested in
hurling accusations at each other.
It took awhile to get to this point.
Some people never reach it,
I see them using each other
for target practice all the time.
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:43 AM 0 comments Links to this post
He is short, and egotistical,
insecure, and stupid.

I refuse to let him occupy time
in my head. Shoo begone. Shoo.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:05 AM 0 comments Links to this post
My son and his friend who is a girl
are totally not interested in visiting me
when she is in town.
What a suck in the butt;
he was mine before he was hers.
Should I support such a relationship?
It really doesn't matter if I do,
or if I don't;
certain things are beyond my control.
I love my son,
but he is not a small child anymore.
He, now, makes all his own decisions.
Fuck that bitch.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:01 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Song interruptus


One song ends and another starts.
The first song hadn't finished.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:00 AM 0 comments Links to this post
I'm waiting for her to pass by
or maybe I'll be the passerby
when I spy her.
Posted by mikel k poet at 5:57 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Removal

It is time to go back
to bed, but I am not
tired enough to sleep.
Posted by mikel k poet at 5:56 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Punch out now

On the edge constantly
wishing it was Friday.
Posted by mikel k poet at 5:55 AM 0 comments Links to this post
He had me in his crosshairs
was waiting for his chance
to pull the trigger,
and pull the trigger he did
when he thought that he saw his chance,
to drop me,
but I had had similar bullets fired at me
over the years,
and whether they landed, or not
I was very adept at weathering such a storm.
Posted by mikel k poet at 4:55 AM 0 comments Links to this post
We knock what we can't have

Making fun of something
while you are trying
to be a part of it
is an old trick.
Posted by mikel k poet at 4:49 AM 0 comments Links to this post
No longer sweating

People are telling me
that it is going to rain today,
and that it is going to get cold, now;
that we are headed into the fall.
I will not miss summer,
the heat was brutal.
It will be nice to, once again,
walk the dogs in a pleasant environment.
Posted by mikel k poet at 4:43 AM 0 comments Links to this post
TUESDAY, AUGUST 24, 2010
Mikel K Poet I'm reading Carl Sandburg. I really like Carl Sandburg, but I am in the middle of this really long poem that he has written, called, "The Windy City." I don't feel like reading a long poem, right now. I don't much, ever, feel like reading long poems. (Cont. below).
2 hours ago · Comment · Like
Mikel K Poet I think that a poem should be short, less it starts to be something other than a poem, say a short story. I don't much care for short stories. Most of them are boring. Most people can't write short stories. I can't write short stories, so I don't even try.

--K
2 hours ago · Like ·
Phil Rockstroh When you are named Eternal Czar of The Cosmic Ministry Of All Poetry, you can decide the length of all poems. Until then: I suggest you let the individual poet and his/her muse work the situation out between them. Ergo, there are great and good poems of all lengths. Many poets will tell you the poem itself decides its own length. Poems have a mind of their own; otherwise, they would have nothing interesting to say. And they abhor generalizations and templates. Except, of course, when a generalization or a template serves their purpose.
2 hours ago · Like ·
Mikel K Poet All I did was state my likes, my preference, which stands even after that long bit that you just wrote.
2 hours ago · Like ·
Phil Rockstroh What else would you be giving but a subjective opinion? Is there any other kind when it comes to art? Your opinion just happens to limited -- and wrongheaded.

Moreover, you deemed long poems to be "short stories" -- and then declared them boring. The poem itself -- which any good poet can tell us is a living thing -- might tell you: people with short attentions spans are the ones who are boring -- and they are simply displacing their own discomfort ... existing within the cramped quarters of their own mindset upon the innocent poem. When you send a subjective opinion, regarding a what a poem is, out into the world, they just might answer you back ... and their reply, with the poem being quicker and smarter than the poet, might delight you or just might piss you off.
about an hour ago · Like ·
Mikel K Poet Phil. You only come around here to criticize, to condemn, to try to make yourself look like some sort of an intellectual superior. If you can't come around in a friendly manner, then please don't come around at all.
about an hour ago · Like ·
Phil Rockstroh Mikel (see above). Moreover, by your committing to pixel this: "Most of them are boring. Most people can't write short stories." You threw down the gauntlet to anyone who has ever written (or been moved by) a long poem. You make a declaration such as that -- and then get defensive when it is challenged. If you give a strong opinion, you are not a victim when you get one in return.
about an hour ago · Like ·
Mikel K Poet Phil, you're an idiot. Goodbye.
about an hour ago · Like · 1 person ·
Kim Klein Eternal Czar of The Cosmic Ministry of All Poetry??? I love that! I really, really do!
about an hour ago · Like ·
Annie Hamm i really like lucille clifton and alice walker. every read any of their poetry?
33 minutes ago · Like · 1 person ·
Conrad Jacoby Umm...I don't know who else is in the running for Eternal Czar but Mikel K definitely has, bare minimum, a leg to stand on for his campaign.
31 minutes ago · Like · 1 person ·
Mikel K Poet I'm not running for anything. I just stated my opinion, and then someone else stated their opinion of my opinion, which I got tired of listening to, the more and more it just seemed like a personal attack from someone who has never like me anyway.

I didn't personally attack anyone, but I was personally attacked. Oh well, it's back to my " fascinating updates on what I ate, how far I walked, and how I found a peanut in your poop." as Phil just stated in my email box, now that he can't say it here. (Phil has taken his Anti-K tirade to my email box.)


Somehow I'll make it through
From:
Phil Rockstroh
Add to Contacts
To: mikelkpoet@185cool.com
I suspected you were still thin-skinned, insecure, and snit-prone.

I guess I'll have to somehow live without your fascinating updates on what you ate, how far you walked, and how you found a peanut in your poop. Mesmerizing stuff. And you really know nothing about poetry. If you did, you'd be embarrassed by the opinions you posit in pixel on the subject.

PR
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:16 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Mikel K Poet will grace The Relapse Theater stage at 9pm on Thurs. Sept. 2, at 9 p.m. at 380 14th St. K will do four 2 minute bits on Revolution, and the Comey Improv Team, Improv Monster will do four ten minute segments based on what K comes up. Poetry meets Comedic Improv: it should be a fun, and thought provoking evening.



http://www.facebook.com/#!/album.php?aid=4002&id=100746296635302&ref=mf

or

http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1254733243#!/pages/Improv-Monster-A-Jackpie-Improv-Show/100746296635302?ref=mf
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:55 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Differentiations on the mat


I'm going to the mat in a bit,
but not like I did to the mat
in jiu jitsu.
This time, I won't roll on the mat,
I won't take someone down,
and be taken down,
be put in the guard,
and break the guard;
I will stand on the mat alone.
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:41 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Do I?

I am done reading the good book
that I was reading, so now I can write.
What can I write about?
Should I write about the good book?
That doesn't make sense.
The good book has already been written,
why regurgitate it?
Perhaps you have nothing inside you,
nothing waiting with reckless abandon
to come out
then you would regurgitate someone else's material.
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:33 PM 0 comments Links to this post
MONDAY, AUGUST 23, 2010
A morning event

Jaggar just puked on my desk.
I could see that he was going to do it,
but I did nothing to stop him,
as the poor little kitty wretched.
I felt it would be far more humane
to clean up after him,
than to interrupt him,
and clean up after him
I now have to do.
He jumped to the floor,
and puked on the carpet, also.
This is not so bad;
one of the dogs will lick it up
from the floor.


Bill,

I am not going to continue to search for words to put to your music. Honestly, it was very hard to come up with the ones that I did for the first two pieces. I find the cd you gave me unappealing, and uninspiring; not to be mean, just to be honest with you.

Also, I really like for people to check in by the phone before they drop by. If I don't answer my phone, it is for a reason, like, today, I had barely woken up. And if am not answering my phone, whatever time of day, it means that I certainly don't want guests. I like to start my day, whatever time it starts by writing, and not by talking to a friend on the porch.

I have very few freinds, and I will probably keep it that way with all my rules, and regulations; oh well.

Best,
Mikel
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:16 AM 0 comments Links to this post
I linger longer than I ought to. Something about this particular cyberspace page has captured me. I am a victim to it
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:00 AM 0 comments Links to this post
SATURDAY, AUGUST 28, 2010
Tonight, all wishes will come true

I'll buy you a house, and garden.
I wish tonight was Christmas eve,
and all the presents under the tree
were for me.
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:21 PM 0 comments Links to this post
The rain is pouring down on my plans
I'll never be the man that I thought I am.
Damn, I won't go for a run in the park,
after dark where the serial killers lie.
They pull you in with a charismatic grin
next thing you know you are dead on a pillow.
And if it hadn't rained
some things would never change.
I'd be alone with this typewriter,
spider webs, and all.
The spider bit me on the finger,
I stood up, then I took a fall.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:13 PM 0 comments Links to this post
A pledge of

Other doors, other windows, that you've been through;
you won't be going through them, anymore.
And then so what if you smashed them;
you're not smashing them, anymore.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:01 PM 0 comments Links to this post
It is funny how your life can be boring,
but you are not bothered by it,
in fact you find something fascinating,
and challenging about it, until one day,
it hits you that your life is boring
and, maybe, you should be doing something
fascinating and challenging.





I am thinking about doing Yoga,
and then walking the dogs through the park.
You think that the dogs, and I, would meet
someone wonderful in the park, as we walk,
but we don't. We see some people that are
fascinating looking, and some even make eye
contact,but no on ever says, "Hey you there
with your dogs," would you like to chat,
or maybe go get a cup of coffee.





I am stuck in a quagmire, today.
feeling like I should be doing something,
but not really wanting to do anything.
The most productive thing that I have done
all day is to take several naps.
I awoke from my last nap and found my cat
stretched out beside me;
he had taken a nap, also, as had the other cat,
and the dogs, though none of them was
stretched out beside me.






You can't have anything that you want,
except for this cup of coffee that you are drinking,
and that is all you need, except for the milk in it,
that someone recently told you causes cancer.
Worry causes cancer, and they can't cut worry out of you.





I'm a bit grumpy this morning, so it is best to just stay away.
I am not my usual smiling self. Well, actually, I have only been a
smiling self for the last couple of years. Many years before that I
was often grumpy.






I know nothing about anything, I realize, as other people point out how inferior I am, how superior they are. I wish they would all just f-f-fade away.







I feel stupid drinking milk, now that I have been warned that the, "Genetically-engineered bovine growth hormone (rBGH) in milk increases cancer risks." My coffee is not so enjoyable, this morning, but I drink it anyway, because I am an addict, addicted to caffeine, and maybe strung out on Monsanto's rBGH. God save me.








Sometimes, I think that she is just waiting around for me, but then I think about it some more,and I realize that she probably isn't just waiting around for me.





Why start on any kind of a romance, when you know that it is going to end? Why not spare yourself the misery of the end, even though the beginning is quite enjoyable? I need to go get my coffee. It has been ready for several minutes. I need the peace, and joy, that it brings to me, this morning, especially. You have to grab peace, and joy, where ever you can grab, at certain times in you existence.







It is cool outside this morning; I felt it when I took the dogs outside, so I opened the one window that will open in this shotgun apartment. It is my hope that I will not have to run the air conditioners, today; I have two of them, window units, that do a very nice job of keeping this place cool when it is hot.







There is cancer in our milk, but we will go on drinking it. Monsanto, and the cancer doctors, will profit from our addiction to it in our coffee, and in our cereal. It is sad, really, that God has no control over how we die, just wealthy men, and women, trying to become even wealthier.





For the most part, those who are familiar with you do not respect you, or the gains that you have made. For the most part, they will be jealous, and try to drag you down, if they can. Support will come from strangers, people who see what you are doing, and love it.
Posted by mikel k poet at 4:09 PM 0 comments Links to this post
It is funny how your life can be boring,
but you are not bothered by it,
in fact you find something fascinating,
and challenging about it, until one day,
it hits you that your life is boring
and, maybe, you should be doing something
fascinating and challenging.
Posted by mikel k poet at 4:00 PM 0 comments Links to this post
I am thinking about doing Yoga,
and then walking the dogs through the park.
You think that the dogs, and I, would meet
someone wonderful in the park, as we walk,
but we don't.
We see some people that are fascinating
looking, and some even make eye contact,
but no on ever says, "Hey you there
with your dogs," would you like to chat,
or maybe go get a cup of coffee.
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:58 PM 0 comments Links to this post
I am stuck in a quagmire, today.
feeling like I should be doing something,
but not really wanting to do anything.
The most productive thing that I have done
all day is to take several naps.
I awoke from my last nap and found my cat
stretched out beside me;
he had taken a nap, also, as had the other cat,
and the dogs, though none of them was
stretched out beside me.
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:56 PM 0 comments Links to this post
You can't have anything that you want,
except for this cup of coffee that you are drinking,
and that is all you need, except for the milk in it,
that someone recently told you causes cancer.
Worry causes cancer, and they can't cut worry out of you.
Posted by mikel k poet at 12:31 PM 0 comments Links to this post
I'm a bit grumpy this morning, so it is best to just stay away. I am not my usual smiling self. Well, actually, I have only been a smiling self for the last couple of years. Many years before that I was often grumpy.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:54 AM 0 comments Links to this post
I know nothing about anything, I realize, as other people point out how inferior I am, how superior they are. I wish they would all just f-f-fade away.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:50 AM 0 comments Links to this post
I feel stupid drinking milk, now that I have been warned that the, "Genetically-engineered bovine growth hormone (rBGH) in milk increases cancer risks." My coffee is not so enjoyable, this morning, but I drink it anyway, because I am an addict, addicted to caffeine, and maybe strung out on Monsanto's rBGH. God save me.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:45 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Sometimes, I think that she is just waiting around for me, but then I think about it some more,and I realize that she probably isn't just waiting around for me.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:28 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Why start on any kind of a romance, when you know that it is going to end? Why not spare yourself the misery of the end, even though the beginning is quite enjoyable? I need to go get my coffee. It has been ready for several minutes. I need the peace, and joy, that it brings to me, this morning, especially. You have to grab peace, and joy, where ever you can grab, at certain times in you existence.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:23 AM 0 comments Links to this post
It is cool outside this morning; I felt it when I took the dogs outside, so I opened the one window that will open in this shotgun apartment. It is my hope that I will not have to run the air conditioners, today; I have two of them, window units, that do a very nice job of keeping this place cool when it is hot.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:19 AM 0 comments Links to this post
There is cancer in our milk, but we will go on drinking it. Monsanto, and the cancer doctors, will profit from our addiction to it in our coffee, and in our cereal. It is sad, really, that God has no control over how we die, just wealthy men, and women, trying to become even wealthier.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:15 AM 0 comments Links to this post
For the most part, those who are familiar with you do not respect you, or the gains that you have made. For the most part, they will be jealous, and try to drag you down, if they can. Support will come from strangers, people who see what you are doing, and love it.
Posted by mikel k poet at 6:13 AM 0 comments Links to this post
FRIDAY, AUGUST 27, 2010
Do you still look like you used to when you would turn heads as you walked down
the street buried away now in the retirement home they refer to you as "the bitch,"
but then they referred to you as that when you still had your looks.
Posted by mikel k poet at 4:36 PM 0 comments Links to this post
To Show Me The Stars

There is nothing to calm the fear of a day
full of creditors who cant be satisfied,
dunning letters that can't be replied to,

except for,

a walk in the dark to the store for ice cream
with a dog happy to see me,
and a daughter who brings a flashlight
to show me the stars.

--Mikel K


He is a millionaire
wanting to use my words
for free.
He eats fat steaks
at five star restaurants
while I am wondering
if there is anything left
on my food stamp account.
Normally, I wouldn't bitch,
or I would try not to,
because things just are
the way they are, but this morning
the demons have entered me,
and my thinking is cloudy.
Oh Lord, guide me
in thought, word, and action.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:07 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Only share when you're happy

Not much that I have written, lately
deserves a public view.
When I am somber, sharing,
often,just won't do.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:06 AM 0 comments Links to this post
I just live through it

My mind is slipping,
my head is dipping
back into anger.
Is it the heat,
is it my medication,
is it where a bi-polar person
is supposed to go, on occasion?
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:04 AM 0 comments Links to this post
If I had a nickel for every dime
that I have wasted, I wouldn't have
enough money to pay a single bill.
Money, like love, has eluded me.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:52 AM 0 comments Links to this post
The page is not loading
so I will have to move on
to doing a different thing.
I have paperwork to fill out,
that I have been avoiding.
Posted by mikel k poet at 8:06 AM 0 comments Links to this post
I drank only half a cup of coffee, this morning, because the filter got clogged, and withheld my normal cup from me. This lead me to think that maybe this was a sign of some sort, and I was, now, supposed to only drink a half a cup of caffeine upon rising. I can do it; I know I can, though I often think that I am strung out on the drug of caffeine, and that I need more coffee, not less. Don't you know that if you tell yourself that something is true, often enough, it can become true.

Nothing eventful went down when I took the dogs outside, this morning; of course, nothing eventful ever goes down when the dogs, and I wander outside. They find a bush, they lift their legs, and, sometimes, they squat in a place they carefully select on the grass to make a deposit, and then, mostly, I get a little plastic bag, and pick the poop up.

Don't all these plastic bags that we dog owners pick up our dogs' poop with pollute the environment? Would not the planet be better off letting our dogs poop lay where they laid it, allowing it to disintegrate naturally?

So what if we step in dog poop, occasionally, if it is better for the environment. Can you see what I'm saying?
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:49 AM 0 comments Links to this post
You have done something wrong
but you won't reflect upon it,
you will just keep on doing
what you have been doing,
expecting different results.
I need to feed the dogs, again.
Every morning I feed the dogs,
and they are thankful for it,
I believe.
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:49 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Don't second guess yourself,
I said to my self
while on the fifteenth or sixteenth
guessing of myself.
If people wouldn't be invasive,
then I wouldn't have to be abrasive.
Why give it any further thought,
I thought to myself, one morning
as the coffee was quietly brewing.
Posted by mikel k poet at 7:31 AM 0 comments Links to this post
God it must hurt to be her,
to look in the mirror and remember
what she used to look like,
when she had it all.
Now, she has bags under her eyes.
She has a fat face.
She doesn't have men drooling
over her, anymore;
and it's going to get worse,
because she is certainly not
getting any younger.
Posted by mikel k poet at 12:55 AM 0 comments Links to this post
MONDAY, AUGUST 30, 2010
And you who suffer through

My ying is fighting my yang.
I'm just a stranger standing
on the outside of me.
I knock on my door,
but I don't answer.
Several moods are fighting
to take over inside of me.
There is the old bad mood,
trying to move back in.
There is the new happy me,
being attacked by the old me,
and in the end there is only me.
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:18 PM 0 comments Links to this post
It's supposed to be cool,
but in here it's hot as hell.
Posted by mikel k poet at 5:38 PM 0 comments Links to this post
And just think how beautiful things will be

He'll bring you flowers, in the afternoon,
and you'll fix him tea,

and just think how beautiful
things will be.

You'll wake with a smile, in the morning,
and he will whisper in your ear what he dreamed,

and just think how beautiful
things will be.

You'll cook him dinner,
and he'll cook you breakfast,

and just think how beautiful
things will be.

You'll tell him about your past,
and he'll tell you about your future.

You'll both enjoy
the present, together,

and just think how beautiful
things will be.

He won't strangle your observations,
and you won't offer limits to his fascination
for you,

and just think how beautiful
things will be.

You will be free to grow,
he will always know
that you love him.

He will love you forever,

and just think
how beautiful things will be.
Posted by mikel k poet at 4:46 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Cuz I don't want to ask for a deal,
so I'm going to go without a meal.
She says that the city wants me,
because my dogs are due to get their shots.
She says that the city wants money to,
so what's a poor man to do?
Posted by mikel k poet at 4:04 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Mikel K Poet Thank you, Kim. Has your brain ever felt like it was on fire?
6 hours ago · Like ·
David Powell Not on fire, but I had a very disturbing awakening very early Friday. It took me hours to get my bearings and I was still very confused. There were all these fragmented stray thoughts, past events;- it was like my consciousness had become a...
See more
5 hours ago · Like ·
Jane Reis I was one of those with whom you shared that good advice...it worked !! So yes...take your own advice, and know what you know is true !! Be cool oh fiery head !! :)
2 hours ago · Like ·
Jane Reis David....I had a similar experience recently. I was introduced to a person I was supposed to know, and I had no recollection of them at all. Very scary, felt confused. That led me to realize I had little memory of several years of my life,...
See more
about an hour ago · Like ·
David Powell Maybe that is what I experienced, Jane. Disassociation is a way the brain protects one from stress overload;- a kind of way of maintaining sanity. I recognize that I have been through several stressful years, but wow, it was like a flood of disconnected details, like dreaming awake. I have had a cold for a few days so I am hoping it was just the stress of being ill that brought it on.
24 minutes ago · Like ·
Jane Reis Perhaps so David. No doubt when your body is ill, it can affect your brain function as well. I find it all fascinating, and frightening...but today, I will embrace it as fascinating !!
2 minutes ago · Like ·
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:50 PM 0 comments Links to this post
The Revolution Will Not Be Televised at a Five Star Restaurant.

I'm so much a part of the machine,
that I will probably never revolt
against anything more than
the waiter who brings me my steak
cooked incorrectly.
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:42 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Dental health

I pick at my teeth
with a small brush
that subs for dental floss.
It feels nice
to have my teeth clean.
My wait has gone from
twenty minutes to five,
"Thank you for calling,
thank you for calling,"
the recording says
over, and over.
At this rate
my teeth will be cleaner
than any other teeth
in America.
"Please continue to hold,
we are assisting other callers."
Posted by mikel k poet at 3:13 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Have you ever wondered
why one dentist will
tell you to use
this brand of toothpaste,
and another will tell you
to use that brand of toothpaste
and each one will look you
in the eye and tell you
that the brand of toothpaste
that he or she suggests
is the best.
There is much the same principal
behind this as when
a famous athlete holds a product up
on television, and urges you to use it.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:16 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Nobody in my arms

They don't pity me
when I tell them
that I love them,
they run from me.
If I was richer,
or more famous,
they would run to me,
and tell me
that they love me, too.
Posted by mikel k poet at 9:14 AM 0 comments Links to this post
She is the only one
that finds her chain smoking desirable,
but the world assembled in front of her
on their knees begging, would be ignored.
Posted by mikel k poet at 12:05 AM 0 comments Links to this post
For loving a superstar

He can't keep his pecker
out of the young girls,
they flock to him
the minute that he leaves
the stage,
at home, he leaves his wife
with a kiss, before
he heads to the show,
tells he that he has to
stay out late with the boys
drinking, that's how it goes.
His wife is not stupid,
she sees lipstick
on his shirt, that is not hers,
doesn't say a word,
there is a price to be paid,
for loving a superstar.