A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.

but aren't they all random?

Thursday, July 30, 2009

Don't believe in me

Believe me.
Don't believe in me.
What I say when you ask me is true.
I believe in the truth,
I believe in what I say.
And what I say is the truth,
but I am not the truth.
I am not greater than what you see.
I am not truer than what I say
- that is all in which you need
to believe.
Believe me.

Don't believe in me.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

in sweet-smelling wax

I'm deep in the throes of a sugar idea
and a concrete ideal made soft
and smooth and sealed
like a deal
in sweet-smelling wax
as your lips melt soft
bringing memory back

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Rumble at the Metaphysical Dennys

You'll have to turn left right after
you go through the third red light,
and the parking lot is always never
quite full

Once you get inside they'll ask you:
"counter or booth?"
and you will choose the booth
even though there's only one of you

There's always only one of you. Not
because you're unpopular, but
You're so unique.
People can't stand it.
That's not a slam.

But if it was, would you want it
with pancakes or toast? with bacon or ham?
with hot fresh coffee or cold, stale sarcasm?

or maybe with both. That sounds great, Mmmm!

Monday, July 27, 2009

She's Quiescently

jingle jingle ice cream man
I'll chase after, catch as can
plank down change and raise my voice:
"one Blue Pop, please!"
that's my choice!

Blue Pop stains my tongue so dark
suck away so sweet and tart
so cool cold when hot heat hits
leaves me licking bluish lips

You made me cry

You made me cry
I fell downstairs
my heel slipped out
my tailbone hit
so hard I slid
as each step struck
my poor behind,
held my glass up
and not a drop
was spilt.

And when I came to rest,
at halfway point, my eye
caught yours and with as
much aplomb, as anyone
I took a sip

we about died
and you made me cry
from laughing.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

after all

maybe after the world dies
maybe after the world ends
the ghosts who are left will linger on
and walk in the fields where they had friends
and say to each other - unseen to unseen,
"this is where so and so met, and were wed"
and "this is where everyone gathered to dance,"
and "this was my life,"
- even with the world dead.


I see you in ways
that others cannot
my eyes have attuned
to the spectrum you shed
past far out ultraviolet
or deep infrared
in the regular world,
the colors have bled

What love looks like to me

these lips I've kissed
that hand I've held
those eyes I've gazed
once, twice, always

in you I live,
the future moves
the present sings
my darling Blue

Friday, July 24, 2009


i want to finger the nubbled nodules of your undulating soul
and lick between the synapses of your mind
feel the battery-zap on my tongue
and get between the cells of all your systems
of muscles skin and tissues, like some fluid
of salt and light and osmosis, I seep into you
and you radiate through

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Which There's Not

I like it when people beat me to the punch
I like it when people insist, and are right
I like it when people get the best of me
but you are the only one who does

I think my soul is short one rib
it got plucked, in the night before I was born,
and then slept in the ether a bit,
until it became fashioned
into what I knew
I had missed

- when I kissed you, I knew.
But I'd already known, in a way
seen as self - as deluding myself
but it's not self, it's you
who deludes me so sweet

with the thought that there's anything left

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

The Unadulterated Version

no more precious pledge exists
than when two lovers stand and kiss
before the world they've gathered in
to witness as their lives begin.

for no more precious thing than love
exists within the world of man
or woman - two worlds once,
now only one. Two lives, one life


this is an earlier version of "no more precious pledge"

This Poem Is Running Out

This poem Is running out
out the door -
after itself,
its future self
who's supposed to be
twenty minutes from here
in ten minutes time

I don't think it can catch up to

you can look

you can look on the bright side
until you go blind
'til you can't see truth
but you can't see mine

lazy fuck

your ass is like clockwork
bouncing up and down
on my lap
there's a point within which
you surround me
that rapidly recedes and then
rushing back
like the tide on fast-forward
on time-lapse
on stop-motion
don't stop
I am almost

Sick of you

So must I go
through every phase
of grief or loss or
whatever it is they say

if I already know
that I am sick of you
do I still have to


my death will be very assured
and I'll light from this slender branch
with all the poise of a long, silver bird that slips
from rest to the air to the sky to dive, an
underwater arc and back out again with the fish
still alive, jumping in its mouth.

she lost her

she lost her virginity, she
can't remember when
but ever since, she's been
trying to find it again

Monday, July 20, 2009

many ways to put it

I want to insert my circumstance
into your situation

I can't express how much I want to dock my
in your boat slip

I want to slide my hot slippery clause
between your parentheses,

I want to put an exclamatory "!"
at the end of your previously interrogative

I want to make a particular point
in the center of your meaning

I want to part your gray misty cloudbank
with one beaming keen lance of sun,
or lightning, perhaps
yes, lightning
I think

no. Sun

I want to put my
put my

and you

know exactly where it's going

Sunday, July 19, 2009

reverse earthquake

you function in my life like a
reverse earthquake
that shakes everything up from the ground
and turns it into buildings
and things that work

Death Hat

I'm wearing my death
hat. The hat I wear only
to funerals. I'm
wearing it now to see
you, to see
if you will see
the significance.
I would not take
my hat off to death, so
you take it off for me,
from my head,
through your hand to the air - sail
the open window, land
in a prepared

it seasons the smoke
of your burning leaves.

I hated how we got off the phone

I hated how we got off the phone just now
it seemed so rushed and unlucky
and I wanted to call you back
instantly, split-second - pow! to
tell you how I love you I love you
I love you I love you I love you I
love you I love you I love you I love
you I love you I love you I love you
I love you I love you so many times,
quick, it would spin your heart dizzy
'til you, - fed up -


Saturday, July 18, 2009


We paint our maps upon the world
the world takes no known notice, though.
It lies back flat and unconcerned
as straight lines over contours flow.
Mountains jutting undefiled, rivers
bending boundaries. The world lies back
and pays no heed, as lines tell us
where we can't go.

Friday, July 17, 2009

poetry as poertry

her voice is like
rolling her own rrrrr's
and you just wanna

fuck it.

This poerm wasn't going anywhere.

Who was this poerm trying to kid?

I need to get back to writing pomes. Those

were my fort.


I been circling the earth
looking for an angle in
you're my landing strip -
light up, baby
guide me down
and guide me in
squeal and bump
tumbled baggage
shift in flight
we recognize you have a choice
thank you so much
for choosing right.

beside you

keep my space for me
inside you
beside you
I am walking
in the place of all that empty air
I will be there
keep talking, I
am listening
though I'm distant, I
am hung on every word
keep my space for me
I'll fill it up
the universe

Thursday, July 16, 2009

again and again I intend no offense

again and again,
I intend no offense
relentlessly meaning no harm
my defense
but you know what I mean
and you know
how it's meant:

(it completely depends)

if it's funny - it's not
if you're hurt - it's a joke!
don't blame me you don't
I'm through fixing
it's broke

predictable trends
have predictable ends

have I made enough sense?
can I get an "amen."

To The Choir

Modern Prometheus

Your hopes and mine
were lifted high,
and struck by lightning:
"it's alive!"

for you and I
are Frankenstein
our Creature
has escaped;

will thrive

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Automatic Cinematic Grand Romantic Epic Tragic

I could never love
any of the ones I've loved
like I love you

I think of pale reflections
I can't even see their faces, Blue

I can't write poetry like this
I can't give that to people
they'd be like "fuck you",
"there is no way",
"there is no love
like you describe",
"you made it up"

and so I did. But I had help, my darling muse
you lit the fuse, I'm T.N.T.
we're supafly,

and we can't lose.


I have no promises to make
except for these:

You take whatever you will take,
you take it all if it is mine to give,
I give it always and irrevocably;
for you have made my nest in life -
when I thought I was doomed to fly
forever, never landing, you showed me
home. You are my wife.

You're where I land, and put down claws.
If trouble comes, I'll fight for us
I'll fight for you, and without pause
- no hesitation, I would lay my life
beside whatever cause you pick for me
to take up arms. Command me, darling

I am yours

How Steep

How steep is our love!
I just want to climb
all the way to the top
and then tumble back down
No I don't mind the climb
I'll admire the view
every inch of the way
up and down me and you
and we'll get up again
from the bottom and start
from the torturous depths
to the heights of a heart
hard work that's so worth it
is easy to do
I will never stop climbing
and falling for you

pray for rain

So deep down through, this ground is parched
the air dug reaching fingers dark
and dry like empty tendrils twisting
down and through and into mist
and moist, and drew out every drop.
The soil's turning into dust. The air
pervades this dried-out earth,
the earth - it pants for water's touch.
So cool and blue - a fever dream
in high relief on blistered mind
The earth can't think for thoughts of rain
a good deep soak would feel so fine
good soaking rain - to bear down into soil,
forcing out the air
I want to drink you into me
and pull you deep
and hold you there

Tuesday, July 14, 2009


We all deserve the past
we get - and if we don't?
Forget, forget

your shit-brown eyes

your shit-brown eyes
give stinky looks
your voice is barbed
with sugared hooks
and when your traps
come woven round,
the snare snaps tight
as out I bound

Monday, July 13, 2009

blue for no reason but you

my heart is too big for the overhead bin
it's distended from all of the things you packed in
so weird coming back from never never land
to this same life I must live, all over again

Thursday, July 02, 2009

promissory note

God, I'm praying this ahead of time:
please see me safely there and back

and let it all go oh so well, and nothing
change, and nothing lack. I am in love
with so much life, so much in love, with
such good cause. I've had such luck, in
life, I know. With gravity, and other laws.

I've shown poor gratitude thus far - I'm daunted,
by the scope of debt. But if you keep me
here awhile,
I'll find a way
to thank you yet.