Category Archives: poetry

Suicide Sonnet II

Despair’s inflated & elevated

No matter how rarefied the pathway

People are by reality anchored

Some souls see costly damage lives assay

“Look!” I whisper, “see the unhappiness

Flirting across her stoic countenance?”

(The sensitive see other souls’ undress

It is how they obscure their reluctance)

Some brave souls hide their sadness with swagger

Others in style’s fashionable package

Rest assured under its weight they stagger

As they try to rummage & hope salvage

Please! when you hear of someone’s suicide

Know that you have the same despair ins


Caring’s Mendacity Sonnet

What hurts the most is our attempts to care

Or, more, it is our desire to appear

Like we want to help others to forebear

(& the cruelty of life to forswear)

This protection of our ego’s standing

In the maelstrom of our society

Is a clumsy attempt at demanding

The golden award of propriety

I heard someone say in Paris one time:

“You cannot save both your face and your ass”

The drunk who uttered these sage words sublime

Knew that posh nobility should come last

You have read 12 lines of my thinking rhymed

In which, on my ego, I’ve dropped a dime

Alabama’s Small Win Sonnet

Ere we give too much in celebration

Over Senator Jones’s victory

The constitution needs meditation

The man who almost won is history

Thomas Jefferson & his old Posse

Denied “establishment of religion”

But, as is their wont, the faithful are bossy

(This Alabama porch monkey near won!)

Remember the country’s in the soft hands

Of oligarchy who deny us crumbs

Driving to work in your car understand

Long ago the battle was won by bums

Demand what we gave 1940s whites

Tax the fucking rich & demand your rights


Pathetic Suicide Sonnet

I have mixed emotions about this death

The murders he committed were social

The actions he did had a wider breadth

All of America remains crucial

Racism’s territoriality

Has been like this since the Pilgrims landed

Treating colored inferiority

Like it is a fact is so wide spreaded

That even those who would never chase Blacks

Accept that cops do it regularly

If you think this ain’t true, remove ear wax

& think of stop and frisk more honestly

This beige academic has judged that guy

But in my heart of hearts, I know not why


Sonnet as a Plea for Freedom

I must escape the media maelstrom

The vortex of virtual violence

Where the ideas of the basest are shown

For the bottom line wealth’s prurience

From the right wing I get primitive lies

Parroted by the mainstream media

Obscuring their white supremacist ties:

Equivalence: hypoglycemia

From the left impotent sanctimony

Dribbled keystrokes from a million iPhones

“Being Right’s” the vapid patrimony

Of people who forgot how the knife’s honed

So if you want to save me, send a letter

To a politician: make him better


I Weary of These Infernal Patterns


Rhyming Review: •The Gargoyle Hunters•

New York’s mood during metamorphosis
The “now” seems particularly cruel
Thus •The Gargoyle Hunters• will begin us
(This is today’s true literary jewel)

The meditations on what New York means
Complete with adolescent adventures
Of a free-range private school nerdy teen
All of which brought back my teen-aged culture

The relegated and crazy mother:
In an informal commune of borders
& the dashing obsessive father
Scavenging & barking out orders

A family painted on black velvet
Of private middle school dilemmas
Puberty and thievery’s strange couplet
Trapping our young Griffin in its clutches

Seeking approval & confederates
A scandalous collaboration’s made
Of two romantic thieving delegates
Who predate architecture’s colonnade

The father’s long term goal, disrupt the son’s
Immature middle school romances though
(But they do infect all the grown up ones)
It turns out we become the man we know

Iconoclastic rev’rence for icons
Is their spiral staircase of DNA
Though their collections give New York lesions
Their compulsions they cannot deny
Personalities’ personal suburbs
Those individuals on the outskirts
Of the mover’s & the shaker’s worlds
Are unfortunately too often hurt

The workers became shock troop of dreams
Marching right across convention’s front lines
To achieve the goals that the dreamer schemes
Little men enabling grand designs

In the end the dream is the loyalty
An all encompassing fidelity
That will become middle-aged pleasantries
Wrapped in older people’s sweet vagaries