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Monday, November 17, 2014

The Bill Cosby Rape Accusations Have Me Very, Very Afflicted...Right!

1. She was raped
at knife point.

No question.

She reported it
immediately
but justice was
decades away.

I believed her
and lived with her
and her hyper-vigilance
and her PTSD
and her inability
to emotionally connect
with me.

2. Did I ever tell you
that I was accused
of rape as well?

She was
an angry married sow
who wantonly pursued me
right after my wife left
and she boiled
when I didn't beg her
to leave her husband
after we fucked,
stupid and sweaty
in a hazy, August afternoon.

She couldn't bear
to be discarded
as easily as I did
(which is why you
don't fuck
newly divorced people)
so she told her
hillbilly caveman husband
I raped her.
He threatened to kill me.

Three months
after we fucked,
then came the
vengeance
wrapped in a false accusation.

3. Lessons Learned:

Time is of the essence:
if you're raped,
report it immediately.

If you're falsely accused,
defend yourself immediately.

Don't give any one
any time
to make up
their own versions
of what happened.

Saturday, November 15, 2014

Holy Ritual

If you light a candle
as part of the ritual,
without thinking,
without devotion,

then it is just that:
a ritual,
an empty ritual.

If you light a candle
and you feel the connection
to the eternal flame,
to that which commanded
let there be light,
it is also
a ritual,
but,
a holy ritual.

Friday, November 14, 2014

Following

If I strike out
on my own
and get lost
I am alone.

If I follow you
and you get lost
then we are both
lost.

I love you
and I trust you,
so I say
let's go

and try not
to get lost,

but if we do,
at least
we won't be
alone.

Not Optional

From the beginning
I had no doubt:

we are to love
and take care of
each other.

Liking them,
however
is optional.

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

The Unseen Three Haiku

They cannot be seen
but each one, Air, God, Music,
make this life real.

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

November 12 and January 6

Every November 12
I remember,
thankful that they found
each other
and eventually made me.

If he didn't die
they would have hit
54 years on
November 12.

This coming January 6th
my Pop would have been
80.

Between these dates
came Christmas
the best time of the year,
a time my mom said
my father was relaxed,
different,
maybe happy.

They seemed happiest
at Christmastime.

It was always
the best time of the year,
many years
it was the only good
string of days
I knew.

So, every year
I start playing
Christmas music
November 12
and I end 
January 6,

thankful
for the precious gift
of memory,
which becomes more
fragile with each
holiday.

Muse Trouble

Poised to write







come out , come out
wherever you are








reluctantly,
I admit defeat.

Sunday, November 09, 2014

Weather Report

The national weather map
with its colored waves
purple, blue red
produce
in an inverse bell curve
of temperatures
that will dip from
the mid 70s
down to the teens.

In just one day.

Our nation
will be one
prematurely shivering,
freezing monolith.

Except California
and Florida,

where it remains
sunny and perfect.

So,
how's that news?

Saturday, November 08, 2014

Blind Faith

Who suffers more
from blind faith,

the one who believes
in what he cannot see

or the one who only believes
in what he can see?

Friday, November 07, 2014

The Itch

There is an itch
in the middle of my back
just out of reach
and i scrape myself
like a pathetic grizzly bear,
against trees,
stucco walls.

Try as they might
no one can get right at it.
Either it's the wrong pressure
Or the wrong location.

It's maddening
this unreachable nagging
that cannot be answered.

I used to fear it would
drive me insane,
until I realized
it was the thing
driving me.

Thursday, November 06, 2014

Happiness

Happiness
is a
fleeting thing.

Only fools
try to
contain it
as it
dries up
and dissolves
upon touch.

All we
can do
is make
our hearts
and homes
ready to
welcome her
and maybe
convince her
to stay
just a
few minutes
more.

Wednesday, November 05, 2014

Keep This Moment

Keep this moment
as a memory
but not a museum piece.

Make this moment always shine
like a diamond 
under a spotlight, 
make it sing like
a bird before dawn.


Let it be alive,
a rose in perfect bloom,
thick and swollen
with red passion.

Let your fingers
slide over and pluck
this stringed harp
and feel the reverberation
deep in your soul,
echoing a million times
or more.

Keep this moment
and really study the light
caught in her hair,
her lips,
moist and inviting.

Keep this moment
because somedays
the sun will be hidden
and the birds will be asleep
and you'll need
these memories
to get you through.

Keep this moment,
yeah, 
I know you can't,
but that doesn't mean
you shouldn't try.

Tuesday, November 04, 2014

Dirty Lenny

“Heroes aren't born,
they’re cornered,”
said the Foxx.

I wasn't around
to see his battle,
I only read about it.

His modest proposition
to say the things
he thought comical,
the things
everyone thought
but were too timid to speak,
brought him to light.

Some intone his name
as one would a martyr
for the hipness cred,
forgetting his own definition
that a comic needs
“to make an
audience laugh
at least once
every 20 seconds
for a period
of not less
than one hour.”

Some try to see him
independent of his milieu.

You can’t
because he couldn't exist
without the repression of the fifties,
with its paranoid boundaries,
and spooky religious superstition.

The nerve he let tumble out
fueled by hypocrisy and speed
was a crazy quilt of jazz argot,
metaphysical poetry and
Yiddish schtick
at a seedy San Fernando club.

They called him
Dirty Lenny,
and he was my favorite kind of hero,
Jewish, with a correct sense
of moral righteousness
not unlike
Jesus, except
Jesus wasn't
a junkie.

Lenny Bruce
my hero,
done in
by heroin.

Monday, November 03, 2014

Blankets

It's easier to surrender
the warm summer nights
to the first chill
of Autumn
knowing I will be
warm,
under blankets
of stars
and promises
with you.

Sunday, November 02, 2014

I Believe in Heaven

The Ebola nurse
and her spaniel
after between apart
for three weeks

or the soldier father
back from Afghanistan
seeing his
toddler daughter
talking for the first time

both elicit
the same tears.

The natural response
of such reunification
is primal:

we existed
before we were born
in the infinite,
together with God,
incorporeal.

Bringing us down
to this blue planet
makes us
human and alive
and finite.

I believe in heaven
because I believe
in the power of
reunification:

everyone finally
together again,
awash in a mist
of embraces, laughter
and tears
of thankfulness.

Saturday, November 01, 2014

The Heroin Game

Sure, it's a game.

You put down your nickel,
and you take your chances,

but make no mistake,
the game is rigged.

It lets you win
at first,
and you ride the high.

It's unlike
anything
you've ever known.

It's like your first pastrami,
the best blow job
and infinite Christmas presents
all rolled into one.

You coast for a while
and it begins sneaking up on you
that you're
winning less
and paying
more and more
for an ever diminishing
payoff.

Yes,
you win at first,
but remember
everyone
who plays
either
cleans up or dies.

So,
don't play.

Not even once.