Underground Poet’s Society 2012 -More Samples

June 16, 2012

I’ve been writing a lot of poetry lately and posting it on a poetry page on Facebook. I’ll be publishing a poetry collection by October or so called  Underground Modern Poets of 2012 collecting various poetry from many diverse people.

Here’s a few samples

Healing — part V
by Art Glib

i am resigned
and
there will always be a place
on the path of
my lifeline
that leads to
the spiral grip of true and
undeniable love
clinching at my heartstrings this day

i reconcile
to denounce sadness
bitterness or hate
seeing them as the impish thieves they are
they are like the anchor on the Edmund Fitzgerald

i have the power to do this-we all do

it was what it was
and we are who we are
i feel the joy on my
face as i
raise your praise to the sky
i feel the heat of
life giving sun
it’s like the way i feel
when i think of the best of us
a place of pristine truth
two souls in a corporation of flesh
a place where i wish you
peace of mind
love
happiness
and an
abundance of good things

bless us
and let no sweeping thoughts
of disdain
corrupt the pure remnants of your smile and laughter
i will not let anger steal those from me
i am not going to risk losing the locket of your memory
that i hold to my breast when you are in my thoughts
good bye
good luck
Godspeed
i love you

sQt 2008

 

Untitled
by Anthony Gray
When everything’s lost
and life seems surreal
When everything crashes
and nothing is real
When sorrow seeps in
and all that you feel
is confusion and madness
How do you deal?

Where will you go?
Where will you go?
When no one is sorry
for nothing they’ve done
Where will you go now?
Where will you run?

Everything dies
and the time will come
when the days grow too short
to mourn every one
When life’s vicious cycle
throws you ‘neath the wheels
and there’s no one to turn to
How do you deal?

Where will you go?
Where will you go?
When no one is sorry
for nothing they’ve done
Where will you go now?
Where will you run?

When it’s all said and done
it’s hard to regret
knowing full well the sun
is determined to set
When smoke in your eyes
can no longer conceal
You just let it mask you
and that’s how you deal.

Where will you go?
Where will you go?
When no one is sorry
for nothing they’ve done
Where will you go now?
Where will you run?

When you’re all alone
and the passion is gone
Can you keep your own head up?
Or where will you run?

OmnImpotence
by KrackPipe Ken

through the gloom
a dreary moon
lay soundless on the sod

a haunting tune
from dead leaves strewn
engirdled brooding god

“if I am naught,”
aghast he thought,
“but smoke and grim façade

“from womb to tomb…
…then only doom…
the deadless treadless trod.”

Little Boy Little Toy
by Jo Hewitt
Men and my pen always a dangerous combination, I’ve gone there before I’ll never be anyone’s whore I feel they never see me as real well you better duck and cover for I’m about to tell you about your own private hell mamma’s boy using women as your toy you’re invited to have a say but not have things your own way 41yrs of age you have a fit a real child’s rage in your childhood room you cause doom and gloom action figures a twin bed what a man you can barely tie your own shoes it’s no wonder it’s not you I choose grow up don’t blow up nonsense lies you spout a never ending fount try again a slave to the children you crave whine away for you I will not pine child in a mans body

 

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Mind is Under Construction, Sexy Asian Neurologist and Oxcarbazepine (Trileptal)

May 11, 2012

Sorry for not filling these pages for a while faithful and infidelic readers. My mind and body have been under major construction and most of my creative focus has been drained on the artistic outlets that I make money on and the rest of my energy is kind of lost. I’ve been lost yet searching while waiting for my mental, physical and spiritual portals to show me some light and it’s been found. Perhaps the following will explain a little so be patient or skip to the good parts.

As always- thanks for reading.

Oxcarbazepine (Trileptal)

I recklessly take new medications with out reading the label and the big slip describing all of the side effects. I take the pill then either the pill works, doesn’t work I feel the side effects or I don’t. Then I read the side effects if something feels wrong.

I finally went to see a neurologist after 5 years of being diagnosed with Trigeminal Neuralgia, a facial nerve disorder is how I describe I to most people but it’s much deeper than that or it wouldn’t be nick-named as the “suicide disease”.

 

It took 5 or 6 months of waiting for this appointment because having Medicaid as my insurance I am on a lower priority rank at the office. Medicaid even provides me with rides to and from my house which can be nerve racking and a God send at different times depending who the driver is.

I met with a beautiful Asian Dr named Dr Tracey Wang. I was expecting an old unattractive woman for some reason. I don’t even know why this was an issue-I guess it was more of a passing observation. She did a lot of standard physical tests like reflexes on my legs, knees, arms, legs and even my face. I was in pain when I got there and purposely didn’t take any of my pain meds so she could see my pain if possible. The cold medal of her small reflex tool did cause pain on my face.

When she was finished checking my pain she moved on to tell me what steps I need to take next. She wrote a referral for an MRI and another brain scan of the face that I can’t remember what it’s called, a referral to pain management who may be able to write prescriptions for pain medications because this doctor my new family doctor do not like to prescribe pain medicine. Hopefully I won’t need pain medication with the new anti-seizure medication.

I filled my prescription for the new medication Oxcarbazepine (Trileptal) on my way to stay at my mother’s. I stay there every Friday night in case my uncle needs me to help him with work on Saturdays doing minor office cleaning a few blocks from my mom’s house. I was planning to stay at mom’s until the following Tuesday in case my sick aunt needed watching over if my uncle had to go anywhere like his Doctor appointments because my mom had preplanned a vacation. I watched some television and did a little writing and went t bed at a decent hour because I was called into work for 8 am Saturday morning. I took the Oxcarbazepine (Trileptal) for the first time that night.

I woke up late with little time to get ready and have coffee the next morning and I couldn’t get off the couch I normally sleep on. My face was half numb and half hurting. My arms were numb and semi seizuring. My eyes were blurred and swollen. I made some quick instant coffee and could barely hold the cup. I took all of my morning medications and debated skipping the new one but took one anyway assuming this was all just a side effect that will pass. I sat on the porch and tried to steady myself for a morning smoke and coffee with shaking hands and face. I called one of the other workers to let him know that I was running late. He made a sarcastic remark about me hurrying up that I took serious and sent my anxiety through the roof. I eventually settled a bit and got my ass off to work. My co-workers looked at me like I looked the way I felt. I felt like I had the worst hangover ever. I haven’t had a drink in a while either. I went to work slowly but found myself feeling better once the pain medications kicked in. I made it through work and then a visit to see my uncle and aunt. Great aunt and her “man” of almost 20 years. That’s another story. I eventually made it back to my mom’s and was in and out of it for the next 4 or 5 days.

Every day I’d wake up at different times with various symptoms and deal with it the best I could. I watched a lot of television and barely did any drawing, writing or reading. My mind and body went through changes each day. I did manage to check the side effects each day to make sure most of them were normal ones and I didn’t need to go to the hospital or stop taking the new medication. Since I had to stay at my mom’s anyway I stayed “on call” until Thursday when I had a group therapy thing that night with rides set up through medical insurance . .bla blah.. If you’re still with me folks keep reading. I might actually have a point to these 3 pages of 16 point type.

What I thought was going to be a mini-vacation at my mom’s house for 4 days turned into a 5-day rehabilitation and medication adjustment. The seizures and numbness lessened and now I am just numb in the tongue for some reason. The pain lessened the 2nd day and my dizziness and sleepiness continued but that’s understandable because I take several pills with the same side effect.

This is the first time that I am giving new medications for my Trigeminal Neuralgia and my bipolar a chance for more than a few days in a while. Usually, if I don’t like the side effects I stop. Also, having jobs and many commitments I had to stop taking come meds or I’d lose my job and relationships. Fortunately or unfortunately, I have the freedom and time to give medications the proper time to work through my system and adjust to them and see if they will work. It’s also the first time I feel hope and faith through the temporary side effects to feel better. If it means a few weeks or a few months to find out so be it.

I might end up stop taking some of them and trying it again and that’s ok also because I’ve learned that treating rare neuralgic disorders and mental illness is not an exact science. Sometimes faith and hope is the most important ingredient to the recipe of mental, emotional, physical and spiritual wellness.

Oh yeah -Doctors, lawyers, psychiatrists therapists, group therapy and 12-step meetings are also part of the mix to my personal recovery. If I keep it all balances and don’t let myself get overwhelmed then I might even grow up and out of whatever it is I am now and was before


Chronic Chronicler Disorder

March 9, 2012

Dr Arkmahlk said I was “a chronic chronicler”

Deciphering my voice tones and transcribing my scribblings with determined fury seeking the cure or at least a treatment to

Coherently present me in a way I could pass for human.

 

I’ve tried the walk –right foot first at a 45-degree angle followed by the left foot at a 27-degree angle outward.

 

I’ve tried the talk- “I was reading in GQ today that  . . .” “I going to get my drink on tonight.”, “How about them Eagles?”

 

I’ve tried the career- top advertising executive in the firm making over 100 grand a year

 

I’ve tried the house- a beautiful townhouse in the best neighborhood

 

I’ve tried the car- classic 1969 black Mustang fully restored and my blue BMW

 

I’ve tried the wife- beautiful, charming trophy

 

 

THE LOOK-

 

I’ve tried the clothes- tan or black John Varvatos khakis and Brooks Brothers Chinos, Gucci horsefit loafers, argyle socks, colorfully striped Fred Perry Polo shirts or eModa plain, plaid and “revival” button up shirts, and Barney’s vintage leather jackets.

 

I’ve tired the haircut- closely cropped on the sides and the slightly longer messed spiked hair on top with Enpir brand moisturizing hair gel.

 

I’ve tried the shave – I shaved every other day to keep the slight 5 o’clock shadow look with short trimmed sideburns.

 

I’ve tried the teeth- professionally whitened by the best dentists

 

I’VE TRIED

 

“Look Doc. I can’t pull this off. I’m an alien to this world and I’ll always be this way. I am not human.” I said.

 

I sat there with my long unrushed knotted hair, long gray beard, rotting yellow teeth, wearing 2nd hand clothes- t-shirt, jeans and sneakers, unemployed, divorced, no car, no friends and no connection to the human race.

 

“If this is true you realize that despite Doctor patient confidentiality, I have to report you to the authorities and they will revoke your citizenship to the human race. You will be sent away to an Alienation National Hospital for the Socially Challenged. There, depending on how bad your condition has become, you will be subjected to the constant hammering of your creative instincts and eventually create your own new world or unfortunately, become a casualty like 86.45 % of the patients there to the final escape- non-conformist rejection and Alien alienation to the point where there is nothing or no one left to chronicle. Not even you. You’ll be a shell of instinctual fortitude existing only in your own actions.” Dr Arkmahlk said.

 

“Any advice then Doc?” I asked my last question to anyone ever.

 

“Yes. Take 2 of these and you won’t call me in the morning.” He said handing me the cyanide pills.

 

The last thing I thought was what my grand father used to say to me at bedtime “Good night Irene you jelly bean.”


Cabbage: the Poem

December 6, 2011

I wake up to the smell of cabbage

I am sleeping on a giant cabbage leaf

The blue . . . no green . . now orange

Rib caged baby lion in a now current

Monster of coolness of sorts sorts the

Mail on his autumn leaves in Louisville

A cup of Earl Grey tea you fancy?

Fancy me? What did I do?

Where did I go?

Carpet cleaners are coming around noon.

Can they, would they spray me down with pink poison?

So, I can breathe again

Slim Gilliard would love the gibberish singing you screech

To me about fried ice cream and potato chips.

Alternatives? Drink snot and call me in the morning.

Call someone before you snuff it, off it, give up.

Please.

I’d like to catch up first.

Not save you. Live, learn and breathe with you.

You can go anytime just talk to me first.

Please

Something in the way she crowds around me

Grinds spines in the old chop shop

Aunt Dollien operated by herself

I should have, you should have

Helped her. Bloody mess it was.

Not she. 117-years-old and still

In charge. We listen and obey

She rides off into the distance towards the rising sun

Like the girl with no name in a Sergio Leone Spaghetti Western.

Bang Bang. You shot me down.

Bang Bang! I’m vested and not crying yet

Ready

To meet my Angels. Are you?

Powder blue suntan, flowering yellow hair,

Insects in your eyes, resting, not doing any harm

They need rest too, ya know.

Sink deep into an opiate coma with me

With him, with her, everybody sing

“All we need is Love”

The bed drops softly to accommodate

Our bodies.

“Everybody is just a little homosexual. Whether they like or not” Allan Ginsberg once sang through my departed allies.

The piss in your pants somehow comes off

As a romantic gesture. just not sure who or whom or me.

Romance, courting and foreplay have changed.

Piss, spit and a clean T-shirt is all we desire

Under the brown, dark chocolate brown, chair

That wiggles when I turn on Wagner.

Maybe it’s German. Jewish.

“You should burn it and find out.” Jack said to me

Wiping the cocaine off his Skrewdriver T-shirt.

Salute the master. Carry his bones to the crematory

Make sure he’s powdered. Maybe a nice face powder someday.

Bring your tired looking face back to life.

They call you “face job” ya know?

I call you love.

Is life worth the sadness, the happiness, the ups and downs?

Worth love? Worth death?

Worth money?

(pause and take a deep breath.)

Tuna. Grazed grazed 2 day old fish  marked down 58 percent.

Thank God for the rain or the smell would have turned on the perverts and scared the little girls.

Take me back to the thousand foot

Red tranquil trees hanging over my head

Terrifying peace as the sun goes down.

Dreams don’t have to die

Ya know?


No Humanitarian Awards for me But . . .

August 29, 2011

“One of the marks of superior people is that they are action-oriented. One of the marks of average people is that they are talk-oriented.” — Brian Tracy

This has to be the worst quote I have ever seen. Self-righteous Egotistical. Presumptuous.

I don’t know who Brian Tracy is. Maybe I’ll look it up later. It doesn’t matter. The point is I wonder what kinds of people see superiority as an attribute. I looked it up he’s a self help guru and apparently a bad one.

It’s one thing to want to succeed. To better yourself. Why the need to feel superior? It’s like saying you want to be better than another person. Superior. If you’re not superior then you’re inferior.

I wonder if Brian Tracy is a Nazi or White Supremest or a clansman. I my opinion anyone that would support any claim to themselves or others as being superior has the same mentality as Hitler. Superior race.

I understand the part of the quote about taking action rather than just talking about it. “Walk the walk don’t talk the talk” and all that jazz. Etc.

What’s really funny is that the people that use quotes like this are inferior or average as the quote says. They seem to quote other people all of the time be cause they are “average” and “talk oriented”. I’m not saying that because I feel superior. I am superior. Ha. Just kidding folks. Sure at times I have felt a little superior to some people but I never voiced it. It went away. Most of my life I had to fight feeling inferior only to realize that we are all different and our own demons to face. Sure, I hate people sometimes and prefer some over others but I’m not superior. I’m different.

Maybe I’m a humanitarian or the 12-step programs and the self help gurus I read have influenced my outlook on people but I don’t like the idea of superiority. I don’t like self-righteous people that make statements like that quote or support that quote. Through my experience the real “winners” as some people call them are the ones that face their problems and live their daily life and struggles and get through them and keep facing them and survive. They take action and live through it. These are the people I look up to.

I think I’m aggravated because I hate self righteous judgmental pricks and this quote I saw reminded me of every person I know that has judged me and thinks that they are better than me and almost everyone they know that isn’t following the same rules as they are.

“One of the marks of a good successful person is helping others as you help yourself. One of the marks of a failure is acting, thinking like a self-righteous judgmental asshole that talks too much and does nothing.” Rich Hillen Jr


Social Checking Services are Watching You

August 5, 2011

 

The work place and technology keep changing. It used to be easy to get a job. You fill out an application, do an interview and you either get hired or not. Simple. Now most corporations have you apply online that takes close to an hour to fill out. They require 2 phone interviews before an in person interview. Then background checks and drug tests. A lot of prospective employers even google your name to see what they can find out about your activity on the internet. Personally I’ve wondered if this has been a reason I didn’t get a response on many job application in the past 5 years or so.

 

The past few years some companies hire “social checking” services to go beyond the general google or any other search engine findings. A recent study by the Society of Human Resources Management (SHRM) shows that 50% of employers are taking advantage of the new services up from 34% in 2008 and 20% are planning on using the services. These “social checking” companies specialize in watching and reporting applicant’s activities on social networks like facebook, Twitter, Myspace, etc. looking at everything from blogs to photo albums.

 

It’s entirely legal and complies with the Fair Credit Reporting Act (FCRA). Some question whether it is invasive of individual’s privacy come up but it seems pretty cut and dry. Most of us know by now that what we make public on the internet is open for anyone to see if we don’t make it private. Even if a person makes it entirely private there are ways around it.

 

The question of reliability of the information gathered because people present what they want to say about themselves and try to give the best not necessarily the most honest version of themselves on the social networking sites.

 

Personally I’ve been aware that what I post and say and do onine can be seen by everyone. Some of my sites, blogs, pictures, statements etc are definitely a bit risqué and even pornographic at times. I’ve accepted this fact as an artist and writer. I am willing to put myself out there to be true to myself. My art and writing has never been mainstream and I have nothing to hide. It’s more important than hiding everything to please others including prospective employers.

 

I know a lot of people that won’t have anything to do with me online due to the nature of their careers. They keep everything private and hide out only connecting with their closest of friends and family members.

 

If I’m ever hiring I might use a service but I’ll be looking for honest people not the ones that seem “normal”. I feel bad for the people that don’t think about it and have pictures of their parties and drinking and wild side that a social checking service finds and may ruin their chance of a career that they wanted.

 

Then again is the real you the person that sits in front of an employer for an interview or the “you” you project online? Either way there’s some kind of deception and some honesty.

 

For me, I am just going to keep doing what I do. Post what’s on my mind. Or maybe start my own service. Hmmmm.


Suck My Poem (reprise pt1)

August 1, 2011

Sleepless in New Jersey. Catatonic.

 

Careless. Reckless in my mind. My mind.

 

Count my fingers to pass time.

 

Count sheep at 2 in the afternoon.

 

I’d count my failures but there’s too many.

 

I’m ok.

 

You’re ok.

 

Stuper dooper.

 

Hands wander over my belly into my tight shorts.

 

Quick tug to make sure it’s there.

 

Light a cigarette. Ha. Always light a cigarette.

 

Sleep 10 hours straight then go out then come back and take a 3 hour nap and woke up 5 pm yesterday.

 

No sleep yet. Almost. Sort of. Kind of. Ya know? I know

 

Oh . . . I know.

 

Doze. Wake. No focus. No nothing nada.

 

Try to eat. My stomach is bloated from the water and anti stress tea I drank to make up for the coffee and / / /

 

Ever contemplate death mr Goodpeoples? Not me. Well, not by my own hand.

 

Sex is a foreign country. Relationships are memories so far buried it’s like I’m reading someone else’s story.

 

Not hard to understand myself but I always ask why am I like this? I know why. Sometimes I just won’t tell myself.

 

27 trips to the bathroom. Or was it 30?

 

My best thinking is when I am in the bathroom or on my way to the bathroom or on way back from the bathroom.

 

Pay my rent so I can try and sleep. Waiting. Still waiting. Wabbling.

 

Bullets of words blast through my my my my   . . . .  and hit you softly.

 

A parade of sweat falls everywhere. . . anywhere. I’m burning.

 

Tired.

 

Until.

 

What?


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