Poems VIII

"Clifford Smiles"

Fragile psyches

Embittered egos

On laundry day.

By God let your laundry hang out to dry

Hang out to dry

Let it hang out to dry.

It's not too worrisome,

It's not too important, even if it is.

Remember what you mock is simply laundry day

So let it hang out to dry.

I can bring quarters,

She can push buttons,

He can run out of bleach.

But it's laundry day, and even with a faulty dryer,

Tomorrow all your clothes will be clean.

Soon enough, they'll all be clean.

Soon enough, they'll all be dirty again

And it'll be laundry day.

Poems VII: Love Poems

Here are some love poems, and they're not all about the same person. They're all to remain a mystery, as they strike burnishing with the unrequited, unrelenting flame, lain cold.

"To Love a Love"

O! To be smitten,
That's the word;
An ode to being smitten-
Takes flight on a bird.
A lark as 'twere,
But always there,
I'm constantly flying,
Butterflies for a mare.
Bewitched in any hour,
By the heart's sweet power-
Has there ever been a time it's just been me
With no marathon running of fantasies?
I'll guess on answer,
Sweet Jeopardy-style,
And say no, not a chance, from checking
Mental files.
I love love
And always will
Being heady and drunk,
Drinking in my fill.


"M'lady"

A poem of love (a terrible one)
Yes, that's the way to do it-
One written by me
That you'll never see
Though your laughter did accrue it.
I might as well let my emotions forth,
(In paper form, at least)
Because it's wrong, I will not act-
I am no lustful beast.
"The pert and nimble spirits of youth,"
Your strawberry flowing tresses,
And of course the way you make me feel,
When my jokes are all successes.

Smartness goes a long way,
Dorkiness even farther,
I hope the best for the rest of your life,
May your blushing radiance grow ever larger.


"Fireworks of the Doubly Drunken Heart"

Hey!!! So...
I'm sorry,
But it turns out I love you.

And I ain't a fan

Of emotions,
Or notions,
But there are enough fireworks
In the world.
Not between us or nothin',
Cuz we friends,
And friends is dope,

-Haha-

There it is.
Damn straight,

Motherfucker.

Puttin'
Motherfucker on its own line?
Crazy as shit.
But:

Motherfuckin' worth
It.
Byaa.

Not this one. This one is more recent and that was her real name, a girl who lives in Vietnam. On two different paths, yet the fates let me have one blissful night of conversation. I do not live in Vietnam.

"Love In Sadness"

Danielle.
Forever,
And just for a nigh.
Love is a fickle thing
And it can happen in an instant
And last til the end of time.
When there's truth to it
When the connection is reality
It doesn't even matter what you say.
Because the content is deeper,
Its an elder compulsion,
An attraction of minds,
A gravitational pull,
Two bodies, one absolute,
Danielle.
You'll be gone,
Already fading,
Never again to meet.
But our hearts met,
That's all that matters.
One day, if the gods be good,
We'll be together knit in the universal consciousness,
That beating heart of humanity's entropy,
The math that holds the universe tight.
Tendrils of happiness
Of the true twinkling beauty
Starstruck and striking out gem-like stars.
A knowing.
An actual knowing.
No grok but yes.
A sure thing for a surety of passion.
Your hair that falls over earrings sweet,
Sweetness falling over thin smiles.
A leg up, on my shoulder,
A leg up, on the competition for my desire:
Full desire.
No singularity but wholeness
Of every fiber, every ounce.
A lingering hope
But I care not.
I accept you now as a part of me,
Though apart from me.
I wither and thrive in flux.

The Life Of A Hater Hater

I am a hater hater. What does this mean, exactly? It means that I can't stand people who hate for no reason other than to hate. Chapelle's Show's Haters Ball is my nightmare. Studies have shown there are people who are predisposed to hate, and that's a shame. They take offense to impersonal things that happen halfway around the world. But the problem with being a "hater" is not that they hate. It's that they hate for the wrong reasons, or with the wrong evidence. Either way, they don't care. Haters choose to always hate. Haters carry a wholly pessimistic worldview, but also a very self-centered one. Haters internalize. What they hate on is incorrect. What they don't is acceptable. It's based on the hater's opinion, and they refuse to see it as so. They see it as fact. Where's the empathy?

I'm talking about haters because Lebron James just announced he's going back to Cleveland to play for the Cavs. I am stoked. I woke up to that news and I've been watching SportsCenter all morning, even though I did not want to. It's an important story. "Where were you when you heard Lebron was returning home to the Cavaliers?" I was in Mammoth, excited that the city of Cleveland is ready to welcome him back. One of the pundits said it right. "Cleveland was the only place that offered him redemption." In a lot of people's eyes, he needed to be redeemed. Those were haters. They became haters. But many of them won't be haters anymore. They'll forgive. The true haters will keep their back turned on Lebron. Some of them never liked him in the first place. He's one of the greatest basketball players of all time, one of the most tremendous athletes I've ever seen.

Pasha tweeted, wondering if he could still hate Lebron because the Cavs knock out the Wizards. He's good now. That's a valid reason. I hate the Seahawks, because they're in the Niners' division. Pete Carrol coached USC, and he's smiles the smarmiest smile. Hate for a reason is perfectly fine. You can't choose to hate for the sake of hating. Cleveland burned Lebron jerseys when he left. They hated him, because he left. I don't agree with thoughts of "betrayal," but I understand the hate. Now, they're sorry. But Miami fans are all "betrayed," and are hating. That I don't get as much. Come on. He came, he left. That's just standard pro sports. The history and emotion doesn't exist like that.

The only reason I ever wanted the Heat to win championships was so the haters would get what was coming to them. Also, the Spurs are boring. Mostly, though, I loved Lebron because everyone else hated him.

The other thing I want to talk about is all these chicks being vilified for posting pictures of themselves hunting in Africa. Oh my god, you fucks, you can't attack a girl for posting her big game pics. The Texas Tech cheerleader shot a lion. They're majestic! Well, the way that kind of hunting works is that you pay. And that money goes back into supporting wildlife conservation and stopping poaching. It's not the Wild West out there, where you get to shoot buffalo from the train. Poaching is like warfare, and it's important for the economy to have hunting occur. Don't call a woman a coward for shooting something. Don't become indignant about something you know nothing about. I support hunting. Sure, I'd like to see it all be bows and arrows. They're are ways to improve everything. But you don't get to call for a human's head because it doesn't agree with your "morals," ones you don't have until there's controversy and it's time to jump on the hate bandwagon.

And the Belgian shot a prey animal! That stuff is edible, that stuff is acceptable beyond belief, and that's important. Haters don't get the concept of culling the herd. Killing healthy, powerful lions can be bad. I has stayed away from all the vitriol for the Texas Tech girl until now, but I looked it up. Male lion, controlled area, killed to make sure he doesn't kill any cubs. That's a thing that happens so that the male can make sure HIS cubs are the survivors. It's not like the lions are super aware of their numbers or the system of evolution and survival. It's a progeny thing to them only. But remember how they brought back the wolves in Yosemite, and then they ate and scared the deer, bringing back a better, thriving version of the Yosemite ecosystem? African savannah can be corrupted too if you have too many antelope. So shoot 'em. Give the money and the dead to the local community. Everyone thinks they're so cultured and advanced for condemning any and all hunting. No. You're simply wrong.

I am not a preservationist. I am a conversationist. If you want to leave everything "pristine," you're getting mad at beavers and fungi. Everyone can agree that sounds ridiculous. Humans are in the animal kingdom. We should be one with it, not apart from it. We can be above it on either side: We shouldn't crush it beneath our feet, and we shouldn't be high and mighty as its protectors. We need to accept our role as part of it, as it.

But fuck Thoreau though. I don't hate how I hate him.

USA out of the World Cup

Hamstring injuries. Two broken noses. 19 and 20-yr-olds playing for the national side. I couldn't be prouder of our team, but I could be happier with them, if they had won.

There were a few opportunities we might have been able to capitalize on and win with. But they had more, that they didn't get to. Tim Howard was too locked down in goal. He had 16 saves, the most going back 50 years. Or maybe more. They only started keeping track 50 years ago, meaning Tim Howard might have had the most saves in World Cup history. I think it's sad. Tim Howard might, for the rest of his life, not remember those 16 saves. He's crying right now on TV. Those two goals they scored, though, those are the ones he might remember forever. Let's hope not. We're all in awe of him. It's not like the Brazilian goalkeeper everyone hates from 1950.

2-1. So heartbreaking. We could have won. On penalty kicks, I'd take none other than Timmy. So sad. He was on fire. But he couldn't be flaming enough. He got mad at his defenders tonight. He had to do so much.

You have to realize how I don't watch soccer. I thought I literally could not watch a whole game. I sat there enthralled. I was up and down, out of my seat, pacing almost like a Niners game. Everyone in the United States is on that page. That's at least something to have pride in, too. That we cared. I actually cared and I actually understood what was going on. I'm terrible at FIFA.

Also on Tv, they keep saying "He stood on his head." Is that a real reference? Or is that a soccerism? All these association footballers don't normally stand on their heads.