gray dome first…

gray dome first

this new year ain’t
figured out how to rain
yet, & i’m tired of
waiting. sky-way
conveyor belts don’t
need my kinda help.
best i could
do is shower & shave &
hope the lesson
rubs off.

cut myself shaving
three minutes to midnight.
one handed, thinkin’ i
should cry then laughing
about the same shit
that yesterday pissed me
off & before that didn’t
matter.

one last tiparillo
sugared on one end,
waiting for a flame. i
got what little bleeding
i’d done cleaned up;
claimed my cheap cigar
to chew on while
debating possibilities for
sleep.

call it 50/50. incidental
confidence along with
exculpatory logic. we
should be fine as long
as total collapse of
faith is avoided; but
not the god kinda faith.

more the kind where
we can move or talk
on an almost rainy-
day without screaming &
not laughin’ when
some happy asshole says
“better later” & writes
it off to some vague
notion of progress.

damn those rotten fuckers;
i hear rain.

——————————————

I really wish people would understand that you can be cynical and happy at the same time. They are not, as you’ve been taught, mutually exclusive.

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4 Responses to “gray dome first…”

  1. where in the world do you hide the others? (WHAT I BEEN SAYIN’ IS)… have to keep up at this pace 😦
    Hope you sleep later on, feel better…I am stuck on “dome”…

    • Funny you should ask. Under the right circumstances with the right inspiration & the correct dosage of various itdoesntmatters, I can write approx 6 quality poems per 24 hour period or 10 sorta crappy poems. Lately I have been going for quality over quantity, i.e. not posting every last scrap (although everything does eventually get published here.) How would one do such a thing? Couldn’t tell you. Best I can say is that being a little manic depressive helps, as does giving up on everything in life EXCEPT becoming a better poet.

      This is not a path I would recommend to most people, nor would most people want it. However, if I can add anything of value to this world and do anything to make it a better place, the “it” is poetry. It is the beauty I can create and help others to create that matters. Whether I am happy or sad or angry or tired doesn’t matter.

      Sounds heartless, I know, but as you should know, poetry can’t be heartless. Just not a lot of other things I can do well & get to help others get better at. Why not? Sometimes we just need to matter to someone regardless if we will ever know them/see them/talk to them/etc. I take what I can get my friend. What else is there? (Sorry. I’m a wordy fucker when I get going.)

      crb.

      • …sorry for the late reply, long road lol

        You know what, sometimes what we call quality has no transferred response. In that I mean you think it is quality but the message is not passed across or no one can relate. If writing is to write for writing sake I guess that is fine and quality should be pursued…

        EXCEPT becoming a better poet!!!!

        whoah!!! heartless in that you give up everything for poetry!!!! the tortured artist for his art…does that still hold true in this day and age?

        As for ” Just not a lot of other things I can do well & get to help others get better at” who said so!!!

        hmmmmmmmmmmmm interesting feedback…

      • “whoah!!! heartless in that you give up everything for poetry!!!! the tortured artist for his art…does that still hold true in this day and age? ”

        YES. If you are willing to go down that road (which again, I would not recommend to anyone who wanted a somewhat normal life…) then it is still there to be traveled. I have my reasons which I will explain to you later in an email (i.e. not for public consumption) but there are a few of us one track folk who take this attitude. We are a small group but crazy. Fun times if you mean it and don’t mind a few broken fingers, bleeding & the like.

        Aren’t I a bundle of cheer today? LOL!

        crb.

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