Spare Me

Spare, like rooms
and change and tired tires
are not bad things;
But personally,
I would kindly prefer
to be spared
from the suffering
of the sparer.

Deteriorating Conditions

the clouds hanging
low, their blanket of regret
embracing me.
they are thick but dry,
blocking the light
leaving all in its wake
dark and cold.
in straits, I shiver
allowing the darkness
to swallow me

whole.

Pleading

Dear Mind, or something sounding similar:
I'm writing to say you must stop
NOW!  With care I carry this Message Love;
Go Gently--Hence, thoughts such as these will lead
to sleeplessness, as you may already have 
noticed?  Not only that, that extra drink
ain't your shrink!  Yea, it makes you cry,
and long, leading to horniness; untouched.
The alternative is a slow death, BUT!
Alas--a sweet stroll it shall be.

in  sanity, I plead with love...  forevermore!

The Rhyme and Reason Of Love

I'll smoke ya some ribs
Like a pro
And I'll drive your kids
wherever they need to go,

Most anything, I'll do
To keep the pain
A neutral shade of hue;
Or...something resembling sane--

Is that even possible?
Nah!  Fuck the rhyme
Cause there just ain't no reason
Why you're there, and I'm not.

Come Visit?

Hello friends!  Just passing on to you that after 5 years with A Southern Poetaster, I decided to make a Facebook page dedicated to this blog and my poetry.  This blog is and will always be my primary writing spot, but if you are on Facebook, and want to read a little something extra-- Please "like" me!  Also, if you know how to put a Facebook "like" here on this blog, drop me a line with DETAILED directions... lol.  YES, I'm an electronic nerd (as in, I love electronics), but I don't know how to work them as much as I'd like to!

Hope you're having a great day!

Come-Passion

Faces circular and
square stare back
like soul filled mirrors
in lines of frowns and smiles--
some with laughter and some
not; but all
a union of unique
                          humanness...

The Idling Idyll

I just remembered that I was awoken by these words in the middle of the night last night.  It's still a weird concept to me that I write, even when asleep...  (I typed these into my "notes" on my iPhone around 1:04 a.m.).

Hard
Is the wind
On the west side of the sun;
Seducing it
Into darkness.

Today

Today is one of those days where you are left with... wtf?!?!?!?!?!?  Why does shit have to be so damn hard?!?!

Ben Howard

Just Listening....  (Even a tree knows when it's time to bend, when it's time to grow and when it's time to fall).

Not a bad song in the bunch really.  Youtube him... seriously.

Tease

It feels real;
However,
it kills when
we make out...

like it's not.

Wanting

Every once in awhile, a moment passes with a wish it hadn't;
Passed or came at all, I'm unsure-- 'cept to say
I know, it will never leave me...

                                                                          the same.

Horniness

The world rocks and shakes
Beneath my hips 'n such,
Much like hairs in a crossfire
Sprung from thoughts in a moment;
Frozen like daiquiris we say
We'll drink one day; alone --
together in a celebration of nothingness...

An Almost Made Up Poem

(Maybe someday... when I'm not so drunk; I can write a poem like this?)


I see you drinking at a fountain with tiny
blue hands, no, your hands are not tiny
they are small, and the fountain is in France
where you wrote me that last letter and
I answered and never heard from you again.
you used to write insane poems about
ANGELS AND GOD, all in upper case, and you
knew famous artists and most of them
were your lovers, and I wrote back, it’ all right,
go ahead, enter their lives, I’ not jealous
because we’ never met. we got close once in
New Orleans, one half block, but never met, never
touched. so you went with the famous and wrote
about the famous, and, of course, what you found out
is that the famous are worried about
their fame –– not the beautiful young girl in bed
with them, who gives them that, and then awakens
in the morning to write upper case poems about
ANGELS AND GOD. we know God is dead, they’ told
us, but listening to you I wasn’ sure. maybe
it was the upper case. you were one of the
best female poets and I told the publishers,
editors, “ her, print her, she’ mad but she’
magic. there’ no lie in her fire.” I loved you
like a man loves a woman he never touches, only
writes to, keeps little photographs of. I would have
loved you more if I had sat in a small room rolling a
cigarette and listened to you piss in the bathroom,
but that didn’ happen. your letters got sadder.
your lovers betrayed you. kid, I wrote back, all
lovers betray. it didn’ help. you said
you had a crying bench and it was by a bridge and
the bridge was over a river and you sat on the crying
bench every night and wept for the lovers who had
hurt and forgotten you. I wrote back but never
heard again. a friend wrote me of your suicide
3 or 4 months after it happened. if I had met you
I would probably have been unfair to you or you
to me. it was best like this.

Charles Bukowski

Waiting

The distance from here to there
Spans a separation like
A trip to that galaxy;
With the name that was born from
Your initials engraved in my
Heart like a brander made of
Fire; Trapped forever-- like time.

The Business of Face Saving

I'm working on finishing up my final project for my conflict resolution strategies class.  I am making what is called a zine with a few of my old poems and poetry art and a brand new poem that I wrote called The Business of Face Saving. A lot of times in conflicts, we're so busy thinking about ourselves, that we don't do what is necessary to end the conflict; thereby making it only worse.  So--I wrote a poem about saving face, and some problems with that...

I Walk the winding streets of winter cold,
My bones wince at the people passing by
Overly concerned with saving face;
Only when forced to confess, of course.

Pulling my pocket around front
To seize a smoke to hide behind
The painted pain draped upon my face;
A headline scrolls across the screen
In the display window, downtown:

It says, "A sea of sympathy floods
Boston Streets, a loss of limb'n life;
Exploded from brothers saving face-
An echo of unchecked rejection;
Saving face, turns deadly yet again."

Sometimes death is silent, like blue skies
Unnoticed, a loaded fist behind
Closed blinds, or a broken heart on a
Saturday night --severed to save your

Own dignity. Saving face instead
Of braking down and stepping up; lock
n'load like The Terminator on the big screen;
Saving face instead of saving me

From a life without you, forever-
more or less.  I'll be waitin' inside
The Ben 'n Jerry's walk-in freezer;
Face saving on ice--creamed like coffee
made weak, falling within and without.

Our Creation

This is my video I made for my human rights class.  It took countless hours.... But, I think my first video turned out ok!!!!  Good night world!  I'm grateful for time.... it has told me what I needed to know; perfect as always.  As Maya Angelou said, when people show you who they are, believe them the first time!