The hot summer

 

 

The hot summer

has beaten me again

 

even the songs of

blue jays can not

cool the fire burning

 

inside my heart

 

and the phone is

ringing

 

but there is so

much to do

 

such as sweeping away

the dust

 

and sitting by the window

looking out on the day

 

bright sun screaming down

on grass and leaves and

love bugs are on the hunt again

 

in their green world

as I

in my gray room

 

try to make sense of things

 

---

 

Bamboo

 

 

the silent singers

of the yard

 

move easily with the

rhythm of wind

 

going with the flow

as the Chinese say

 

bending with forces

of nature

 

yet staying their course

 

I admire them

through the window

transforming

 

spirit into

poem

 

to offer perhaps

some meaning

beyond their being

 

and I have seen flutes

made from bamboo

 

and have heard

masters

striving

 

for the perfection of

reaching nothing

being nowhere

 

yet

a bamboo song

needs only sunshine

 

and water

 

it does not need

me

 

it does not need

you

 

---

 

Guide for becoming 1 with the universe

 

 

first

and foremost

 

don’t worry

 

let your troubles fall away

like

 

cool blue water

 

and

take a long deep breath

 

in through your nose

hold for 4

 

release for 8

 

breathe as if smoking

or smoke if possible

 

if you have debts

forget them

 

it is not necessary for you

to pay anybody back

 

true friends

do not loan

they give

 

simply say

thank you

 

and live your life

 

do not attach yourself to

anything you own for

 

you own nothing

 

the universe owns everything

everything is on loan to you

 

the universe is not your friend

 

love the universe anyway

there is nothing more to do

 

---

 

for a moment

she alights on a tree branch

and is gone too soon

 

---

 

the wind is quiet

the bamboo regard nothing

the wrens have vanished

 

---

 

the raindrops speak spring

summer noon winter nightfall

clouds erase the stars

 

---

 

man’s fear of darkness

time explodes and mountains fall

nothing more in shadow

 

---

 

fireflies’ glowing dance

coy move slowly through water

flower petals close

 

---

 

Everything alive with joy

 

 

something

must be going

to explode today

 

things are too much in order

the heat is not doing me in

 

the paddle fan

is a beautiful woman with a palm frauen

and I am eating dried apricots

 

writing poetry

as the cat snoozes close-by

and there is still

 

another clove cigarette

and a new bottle of

Beaujolais

 

can it be

this poor spat-upon

tortured and broken-hearted poet

 

is fine?

 

of course

there is the thought

of danger

 

but I will embrace the good for now

and everything alive with joy

until the death

 

or the screaming

or whatever’s coming

down the road

 

with my name on it

 

---

 

1.

 

it is not

important

 

I know the name

of white flowers

 

dancing in the breeze

 

 

2.

 

pure

 

clean page

always

 

destroyed

 

with

the poem

 

---

 

The next feel-good

for Ron Reeb

 

 

how do you do it

I asked

 

escape from all the

bullshit?

 

He sipped his

decaf coffee

and said

 

look for the next

feel-good

 

for example

 

when I leave

I’ll go to my truck

 

turn on the

air conditioning

 

and that will

feel good

 

then

I’ll turn on the stereo

 

listen to the

music

 

and that will

feel good

 

later

I’ll go home

 

maybe I’ll

sit down

 

and that will

feel good

 

then

he got up and

left me a fifty

 

thanks

I said

 

and what can I

do for you?

 

nothing

he said

 

just keep on being

tom miller

 

and for the first time

in weeks

 

I thought

yes!

 

There is hope

after all

 

I smoked a

shepherd’s hotel

 

and that

felt good

 

I wrote

this poem

 

and that

felt good

 

I read some

Ferlinghetti

 

and that

felt good

 

so much joy

the money hardly mattered

 

there would be

the summer breeze

 

a walk down

red brick roads

 

a child in

a yellow daisy dress

 

sushi

and hot tea

 

one dark cloud

in the blue sky

 

or maybe even

a few minutes

 

thinking

 

listening

 

smiling

 

---

 

the world is busy

look up her dress

when her back is turned

 

---

 

I am a pig

I am a worm

I am a diamond

 

all these things

in the mud

am I

 

---

 

false friends

you have all

abandoned me

when the money

was gone

 

for this

I am grateful

 

---

 

trees have leaves

people have needs

 

I

need you all

to

leave me alone

 

---

 

death comes

even as you

fix your hair

so someone will

stick their dick in you

 

---

 

people are brick

and mortar

 

buildings flesh

 

and still the rain comes

 

---

 

a dead sparrow

sings

in the broken hearts

of children

 

---

 

if you take

the sunrise for granted

 

the sunrise

will take you for granted

 

---

 

love friends

who love you

despite your faults

 

love friends

who will sacrifice for you

 

sacrifice for them

 

love friends

who do not have to say

 

I love you

 

then shoot them

 

---

The poet always has a place to stay

 

 

the poet always has a place to stay

 

always has a drink

always has a meal

always has a poem

 

the poet always has a poem

 

always has a lover

always has a love end

always has another drink

 

the poet always has another drink

 

always has an idea

always has something to say

always has nothing to say

 

the poet always has nothing to say

 

always has another drink

always has another poem

always has another place to stay

 

the poet always has

 

a drink

a meal

a love

no love

another drink

an idea

something to say

nothing to say

 

the poet is invisible

the poet is forever

the poet is the bottom

the poet is the soul

the poet is a lion

the poet is lying

the poet is truth

the poet is an eagle

the poet is the devil

the poet is god

 

the poet always has a place to stay

 

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