WHO I'M WRITING FOR
I don't like to write just to be writing,
but I've always found it to be exciting.
it's entirely unplanned,
and it gets out of hand,
and here I write, just to...
CHEAP PEN ON A WRITING DESK
okay, let's see how this works,
a cheap ballpoint pen that still lurks
deep in my coat pocket...
doesn't write like a rocket,
but you can't have all of...
the stuff that I've written so far today
hasn't inspired me in any big way.
it's not a load of crap;
I just want a bit more slap,
where a little bit of sting...
Ok right, so you see them adverts where it's like a 3D map of skin and skull and airflow through the sinuses... N you think, 'ah, look at that, must be like having a cold' ok, let...
UP AT NIGHT
it's two thirty-eight and I'm feeling great,
hoping my mind will accelerate,
foot on the gas, and I'm running fast,
taking off with a helluva blast.
wouldn't that be...
my mind is running all over tonight,
for richer, for poorer, from bite to delight.
as long as it's coming
I'll keep right on drumming
my fingers on paper to get it...
I'll keep right on writing while I smoke the joint.
I'd stop for a moment but what is the point?
joint in my left, pen in my right,
burning a hole in another night.
can't think of...
what ever happened to love and peace?
why are we bombing the middle-east?
the damage is done.
we're back to square one.
now we just count the deceased.
yes, I can...
I'm half asleep here while I'm writing;
that tells you that it's so exciting
that I'd rather hear
a voice in my ear,
and turn off all of this lighting.
I hope you can see it's a joke,
that some of it's just fun I poke;
and some is more serious,
or even mysterious,
but it keeps me from having a stroke.
It doesn't keep me from...
there are not that many Saturdays
when I spend my time this way;
jumping up, lying down, sleeping,
writing down, thinking up, sleeping.
it wasn't all that bad a day.
when my mom in the forties got dressed,
she always tried looking her best.
she put on the pearls,
as did all the girls,
or diamonds for those who were blessed.
it wouldn't be much of a leap
to keep writing while falling asleep.
I know I've been close
but let's face it, these rhymes are not deep.
it's not all that often I'm writing so fast.
I'm taking advantage 'cause I know it won't last.
when it gets past the best,
I'm taking a rest;
and I'll chuckle and say, "it's been a...
there are times when all of us are feeling like jerks;
I've been writing for years and I know how it works.
some days you're glad,
and some days you're sad,
and those are the best...
my writing's too sloppy to read.
arthritis is doing its deed.
I don't want to whine
'cause some days are fine,
if I try to control the great speed.
but I find if I try...
The music washes over me a hard core melody
Pounding, racing, out of control
I want to escape these feelings that fall on me
The rhythm of the instruments falling together...
I don't know how much more I can do,
without boring both me and you.
I might need a change
to form with more range,
and perhaps something fresh to pursue.
but I don't...
well, here it is twelve-twenty-one,
with six limericks already done.
I need to slow down
before I can drown
in the ink as I just let it run.
my fingers just keep...
okay, it's five forty-four.
my back has now gotten quite sore.
I never changed chairs;
I was fully aware,
but my mind was still up for me writing more.
so now I just...
not writing about me isn't going to work out;
it helps me get started on my regular shout.
after a time
my mind thinks in rhyme,
and that's what all this is about.
I've been writing about different people in my life. Not the most important people but just random folks. What ever comes to my mind about them
the morning is calling my name,
"come to bed. come to bed. you're insane!"
I don't heed all that guff;
I've been writing enough
to keep me involved in the game.
jesus! it's three fifty-three;
the hour got way beyond me.
been typing, not writing,
not very exciting,
but I guess that's the way it'll be.
all these limericks have a narrative line;
if you read them all together you'll be doing fine.
the man behind them will come into form;
bit by bit he'll fit a manic...
there's nothing I won't talk about,
whether in whisper or shout,
by posting it here,
saves everyone's ear,
and my landlord won't kick me out.
I started writing poems at eleven or...
YOU TAKE WHAT YOU GET
these sentimental poems have me concerned.
I read them and I think, "should they be burned?"
I still enjoy the writing,
and I don't want to be biting
I met a bartender from Greece,
who said, "these challenges must cease;
I can build a screwdriver
with less than McGyver,
while writing a note to police.
some of us are old enough:
we're like meat that ages to tough.
cut it all in slices,
marinate and spices.
if you don't like the dish, well that's rough.
I'd like to do this for years,
at least if I'm going to be here;
otherwise I might die
of just running dry,
my skin like a walnut veneer.
who's the guy played the role of the gun
in that movie, we saw it, you know the one?
you said that you liked it,
I kinda spiked it.
he was the guy who was on the run...
THE KNAVE AND THE SLAVE
I think I might have blown a fuse in my brain;
I stood in the station but I missed the train.
I know where I'm going.
I'm standing there, knowing