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More Lives On Ice (2006)
Jewell
There was a young girl
Young being relative
Who wondered
What to do
With her life
She was a vine
Who needed a wall
To grow against
She wanted a man
Who would help her
Polish herself
Into an exquisite stone
So, she waited.
Maybe it was Beauty
Darting quality
In her eyes
Slender like a leaf’
Perhaps, she was wind blown
Or maybe she just blew my mind
She just stayed there and stayed there
Long after she was gone.
Stirred not Shaken
He was a man from New Jersey
He could be procured,
Stirred by the blond sitting next to him
He did not know her
But spoke to her nevertheless
She could not care less
But he was not shaken
By rejection
Knowing that he could
Outsource her to India
To eat her meals off a banana leaf
Yes, he knew he could leave her alone.
That was his job.
Post Modern
Try to rebel
You’re part of the system
Be outrageous
You’re part of the system
Make bad art
You’re part of the system
Invent a new toilet
You’re part of the system
Try to break out
Of habitual behavior
Its reality TV
You are trapped
You are trapped
You are trapped.
Dam
She was a prefect specimen
Except for her bowl like belly
Which must have been mostly
Composed of water retained
From her fondness for beer
She carried herself smoothly
From one spot to another
a smooth sailing ship gliding along
On a mirror-like body of water
I wondered what she would be like
Without that belly, but decided
That was what made her human
Without it she would have been
An empty vessel
Through which the water of life
Did not flow.
There
She wondered
To herself
“Am I attractive?
Do men like me?”
She asked this
Because she knew
That she was like
A donut
There was a hole
In her center
Where there should be something
There was no there there
And after every
All night sex binge
She found
That she was
Exceptionally hungry.
Race On So Racy
They were so chatty
So catty
little girls dressed up
A night on the town
Evening gowns
Replaced
By tight halter tops
And bottoms like skin
So very modern and sinful
And not aware
That the stares
They garnered
Had been going on
For centuries
That they were part
Of a continuum
The furtherance
Of the human race.
Stop the Music
The din was deafening
Acoustics designed
To inspire insanity
Young blossoms bleeding
the hipness
Of it all
Male buds
Bursting with exuberant
Outlays of cash
Everyone fashionably dressed
Trussed up like turkeys
At Thanksgiving
Waiting to be served
As the main dish
Between designer sheets
As soon as the beat of the blaring music
came to a stop.
Finding One’s Voice
I was resolute
No more
Chutes and ladders
No more
Hiding out
In rest rooms
At gas stations
No more
Escaping
Life’s petty problems
Watching Morning TV
Dr. Phil and Opra
Tinny voices
Telling me what was wrong
With my life
I knew what was wrong
I was singing my life
Off key.
Youth
Her most remarkable
Trait
Was that she
Was young
And unsung
A fresh track
To be laid down
No sad music
Accumulated
Over years
Of defeat
Her feats
Were in the future
And if she was lucky
No one would
Butcher her life
Into small pieces
Of meat
Sold at the lowest
Possible price.
Soft Sex
In lieu of sex
A night of camaraderie
Was called for
Conversation
That tinkled
Like chilled champagne glasses
No vanity
No need to explain
One’s position
In life
Just simple acceptance
Of faults and foibles
Among friends
Who had known each other
Long enough
To understand
That the ends
Justified the means.
In the Aftermath
There is many a twisty
Turn in the road
Slick spots that
Turn a sports car on a dime
360 degrees from a good time
To blood spilled needlessly
Amidst the shattered glass
Of the windshield
A pretty girl’s life
savaged in a spit second.
Or a job lost
Feisty battles
with boss, lover, daughter
moments when beauty
is slipping away
knowing deep inside
that nobody is going to help you
so you beat blindly against all
that seems to be pushing against you
keeping from you
what you feel is yours by
some heavenly decree
it may be another human being
that you cut down in one secret violent attack
smashing her just as surely
as that sports car smashed that other beauty
you don’t care
for you
it is just your duty
your right despite the damage
to another person’s life.
The L Birds
Birds of a feather
But different breeds
Seed they ate
Not the same
Song they sang
Went by a different
Name
Flying around
In rarefied air
Huddled together
This day on the ground
Waiting for the sound
Of beating wings
Or maybe hearts
That would beat faster
Within their bony cages
Female rages put aside
Pecking order ignored
As the adored ones paraded by
New entrants to this kingdom
Ruled by drama queens.
Under Water
I wanted nothing more
Than to love her
Kept at arm’s length
Whatever strength
I had
Was drained
By a desire unfulfilled
I persisted in a quiet quest
Feeling like an unwanted guest
At someone else’s wedding
Knowing that bedding
Her down
Would eventually drown me.
No Kidding
An artist’s soul
But, no talent
No desire
Frustration
And a life fraught
With thought
But no realization
The music
In his head
Stayed there
Despair a habit
Now growing old
He lived with children
And hated the sound
Of their singing voices.
Why?
Easily one
Of the most beautiful women
You would ever see
On a suicide watch
Black eye
A badge of honor
Her entrée to the hell
Of her own creation
Her elation
At being brutalized
More satisfying than sex.
A Small Grief
A situation
Best described
As bizarre
Woman training
A dachshund puppy
On a patch of lawn
Run down apartment complex
and busy street
framing what should have been sweet
yet, it struck one watching
as a slow march toward
deteriation
a city, a country in ruins.
Blood on Ice
Things were copasetic
In the hood
Lesbian war prevailed
Veiled threats
Now faces nicked, scared
Bloodied
Fight for territory
Lipsticks devolving
Into dykes with age
More drama
At the bar
Than on a stage
Beauties beaten
And for what?
Female supremacy
At issue
Males used as mere tissue
To wipe away the tears.
Rise to the Top
Star struck princess
No inkling
Of the stinking
Dregs of humanity
That huddle like a stack
Of old newspapers
Saturated after a heavy rain
Bleeding print upon the pavement
Standing in her way
Every hurdle must be passed
Every cunning eye
Winked at
If she blinks
Forced back to go
And no collecting $200.
Dance to the Beat
Blood vessels
In my face
Had broken
Once pure skin
Now, but a token
Of a debauched life
Lived on the run
Like a gun
To the head
Escaping responsibility
An endgame
Embracing it
Just the same
The inevitability
Of death
Sour breath
After throwing up
All the cookies
Of the night before
A pinafore
Compared
To the slow
Silent
March
The drum beating,
Beating, beating, beating.
Alley Cat
Her hair fell
Just right
Framing an angel
Face
That belied
Her street smarts
Maybe her heart
Had been broken
Maybe not
But, it took a lot
For her
To trust a man
Yet, every man
Loved her.
All
Kate Hepburn said
“I want it all.”
And all
Is what we all
Want
To be upon a stage
Or in a film
All eyes upon us
An imaginary public
Always present
Watching every minute
Every subtle move
Every flush of the toilet
Or casual brush back
Of a lock of tinted hair
To have the gift
The short shrift
Of being doomed
To be an artist.
More than Mundane
This is a gentleman
Of the old school
Following every moral rule
His knuckles early broken
By a measurement tool
His stern father
Beyond reproach
His mother
Sanctified by God
His life proscribed
Not by poets
But, by those
Who favored
Protective boundaries
Placed around
Every errant behavior
His only savior
A rebellious streak
That banged against
The meek and unpretentious
A bossy noise
Most bothersome
But, transparent
For this was a man
Who only wanted love
The touch of a woman’s hand
And a simple life
Just a cut
Above the ordinary.
Not to be Rebuked
Buzz cut
And brutal
A Feudal lord’s attitude
Toward keeping
The proletariat
In their place
His face a hammer
To nail down
Anything sticking up
Abrupt, bizarre
Best dealt with
From afar
He liked to get in
Your face
His only saving grace
Was working in a caring occupation.
Three Heads
Once there was a man
With three heads,
The brain was divided equally among the three heads.
But only one brain.
Whenever a decision had to be made
The heads would always disagree.
The man has been sitting in the same chair
For over 80 years.
Holding Court
I am not unknowable
Said the Queen
As she sat upon the throne.
“Please send in the next peasant.”
A shrill trumpet announced the entrance
Of a man who appeared
To be both a heathen and completely unkempt.
The queen said to the man:
“Do you know me?”
The man replied, “No, You are too far above me.”
Retro Love
We did not know it
Then
When we were young.
We had fun together.
Myriad golden cans
Of Coors,
The elixir of choice.
Chugged down
Our needy thighs rubbing up
Against the open trunk
Of some Daddy’s car.
We were in the moment.
A moment that would
Never end.
It was love.
But, we did not know it
then.
Hat Trick
Father never
Wore a hat
Fear of growing bald
Wide ears
Pinned back with Scotch tape
When young
Vanity born
Of a mother’s yearning
For perfection
An infection
Inflicted and
Sung tunelessly
A mantra surviving into
Adulthood
The boy, now man
Was appalled
Said: “Now is now.
That was then.”
Still, he never
Wore a hat.
Something to Talk About
Dainty feet
Tucked longingly
Into fuck-me pumps
Blue jeans
Belligerently
Low on both ends
Tongues panting
Ranting about
What could have been,
Should have been, would have been
Shut out
Not enough clout
To overcome
A husband’s protective shout
“Hand’s off wanna-be louts.”
God Damn Apple
Delightful posies
When young
Venus fly traps
When jilted
Wilted flowers
Whom bees avoid
Annoyed at Mother Nature
Gone askew
Screwed by inequity
Harsh reality
Darwin at his best
Adam always knew
Eve would look her best
Whenever he beckoned
With a puffed up chest.
Fresh
Fresh face boy
With a skin infection
Fresh faced girl
With a rump
Designed to seduce
Fresh faced boy
Knocked for a loop
Before his brain
Matured
He detoured into a dead end
Her end irresistible
His end
Raw meat
Sautéed on the grill.
Both got want they wanted
What’s the harm?
Why the alarm?
At the new baby’s cry.
Wistful Daughter
I made a shopping list
something was missing
maybe Daddy's kiss
goodnight
when I was a wee thing
Now I sing
a different tune
let my husband
sleep til noon
on Father's Day
Daddy's gone
it will never be the same
Now, I am a woman
with a different name.
Flip Flop Generation
No right
No wrong
No love songs
Stale
Everybody for sale
Males
Like females
Capri pants
Flip-flops
Tattoos
Shooting a terrorist
Not a taboo
Bird Flu
Won’t help
The only yelp heard
Is at the price of gas
How long will this last?
Perfect Pink
She required
Special sugar
On all her drinks
Pink
Both at the center
And the edges
Of her life
Cosmopolitan
Utopian
Everything clothed
In the fabric
Of Nirvana
This was the shop keeper
You wanna be.
Face Time
He was a man
Whose name
I could never quite remember
When he was there
He was never there
Not a nebbish
Not a man who
Relished life
He was just a blank face
Who occupied an empty space.
In Charge
The hard beauty
Of her face
The two prominent bumps
On her chest
Her demeanor
Her carriage
Suggested manager
She was in charge
No raging bull
Could dislodge her
Efficiency bled
From her pores
This was truly
A boring woman
For whom romance
Was but a tedious enterprise.
A Man’s Life
To be perfectly honest
We don’t care
How nice you are
We only care
About fucking you
And how big
Your tits are
And if your lips
will last all night
And if you think
My dick is not
Big enough
Then go
Just go
And get fucked on
Your own dime.
Short Order
The man had
A big heart
Till it gave out
Hot dogs with onions
On a daily basis
He had relished life
His wife died young
He had stopped loving her
Anyway
She wasn’t his type
He had been
A wayward child
And as an adult
He lived a wild life
Fife and drums
Are now appropriate
At his funeral
So start the hype.
Down Mandy Lane
Not a sundown girl
Heart bruised
Not beaten
Defeat not really
Part of her vocabulary
Her own self
A sanctuary
Where she could
Retreat
Build strength
For the next victory
Feet on sold land
A Mandy kind of life
Truth or Beauty
Multi-tasking
Came without asking
Her time behind the bar
A complex
Bizarre
Particle
Of the many facets
Of her life
A very pretty girl with desire
To make good
Overwhelming beauty
Almost stood
In her way.
Get Along Little Doggie
Every cowboy
Needs a side kick
Gene had Andy
Roy had Pat
Cisco had Poncho
But, a modern loner
Like me
Needs a Lesbian
By his side
To buffer the winds
Of fate
A gal attractive
And nice to touch
But no desire
To lurch into
Matters of great
Importance
No petty arguments
Just a nice even ride
Down the bumpy
Road of life.
Charlie Light
No lush
This Aaron
His errand
Into the maze
Charlie’s delight
Bruised by love
Skirting disaster
At every moment
Laughter
On both sides
A night of love
Will not last
But what a blast
Of pure white light.
Elementary, My Dear
He was a studious man
Not revealing much
His eyes
Always searching
Yearning
For him
Not being cool
Was a school
In and of itself.
On the Mark
Not quite
A Beau brummel
A seducer
Dandy, randy
On the hunt
More apt
To take the collar
An 0-fer
Than most would think
Because he was
Not willing
To sink
To the lowest
Common denominator.
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