but aren't they all random?



A Pocketful of Poesy was a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog* up until the great derail of 2013. The impossibly-high standard of quality proved impractical to keep up, without a book deal. But don't take my word for it: click RANDOM and judge for yourself! And feel free to offer your critique.
*based on poem rate for calendar years 2009-2012. Also, kidding about the book deal.

Wednesday, May 21, 2014

beautiful, and kind of sad

beautiful,
and kind of sad
like frozen mist making cheery-colored diamond shapes across treelit christmas morning windows,
in the bare and frozen dawn as you walk by on the sidewalk outside towards the empty bus stop where,
eventually,
each morning,
your destiny comes to pick you up.

sober revelations

I make all the same revelations sober
as drunk,
Just slightly
less tightly-focused,
perhaps. But yeah, that's
all the same kind of stuff

I am always going to tell anybody
who asks.

Except more focused, drunk
- because drunk tangents fly by
like dragonflies and lightning bugs
and the eyes of my mind can't chase
them to follow, so I plod forward
on one path instead of how
I would soberly proceed.

Sober, I'm like "well wait,
let's also take a moment to chase
THIS implication - it could form some small part
of how I'm trying to put the whole vacant lot
of all that I mean on this topic into words
that really pick out every weed, wildflower
and piece of busted brick!"

There is no broken glass.
I cleaned out all the broken glass.

It ain't that kind of vacant lot.

Thursday, May 15, 2014

explain away the sun

It's because of the vertices.
It's because of the slight
ellipses of the orbit, or
more accurately: the tilt
of axis that has us wobbling
in lockstep relative to

the sun.

This pisses the sun off,
to some degree, resulting
in SOLAR FLARES.

Basically at that point, the sun
becomes in everyone's eyes
and the only way out

is to go inside for a while
until it cools off. Sunglasses

can help you look cool,
too

Friday, May 09, 2014

Closure, Figure and Ground

And love is good despite its end,
which never justifies its means
its meanness, or its cruelty.
To end as friends,
or so it seems - and seeming was,
and is, and shall
be all there is
that we'll admit. We nail it down.
Our hands are held, on board, on point
- bang mallet hard, that peg will fit. And that is all
that we'll allow.

And that is all.

Until whatever happens now -
the picture hung in frame on wall

- has time to fall.

Tuesday, May 06, 2014

"Sick in Love"

there doesn't seem
to be a thing
that I can do

and you can see
I think you know, but
I'm not sure that you do

and you love me,
just not like that -
but sometimes it's like that, too

and we can see
but we can't tell
'cause when we combine
it gets way out of line, and
all our sense tense to quiver and dissolve
we just scare hell out of everyone involved, we are

sick
in love
you're sick
in love, with me
sick
in love - all of our life,
we've been sick in love
I'm sick
in love with you - sick
in love

we're just not alright

we threw away
important things
priorities

like mortgages
wedding rings
responsibilities

but we can't live
in love like that
where all that we've got is spent

the love you give
comes back to you
but the love that you save can't pay the rent,

when the ones who love you say
you've thrown it all away
we don't know where,
but we know we're gonna stay

sick
in love
you're sick
in love, with me
sick
in love - all of our life,
we've been sick in love
I'm sick
in love with you - sick
in love

we're just not alright,

we are
sick in love
you're sick in love with me
sick in love
all of our life, we've been sick in love
I'm sick in love with you
sick in love

we're just not alright

Immortality or Bust

Well, I think I'd like
to hang around as long as I can. I'd love
to see where we'll be in 500 years. It's
the surprise and the wonder
that make it so great
to behold
to see it unfold
all of it ours to have
and hold

Even assuming there's a heaven
where the scales will fall
from your eyes, and you understand
all the heart-piercing whys,
and you live forever in perfect, absolutely
perfect bliss, in paradise

- well, if so, it'll still be there
when I get there. If I do. Meanwhile,
this garden has and needs its weeds,
and some of them are beautiful.

I can't get enough of this.
I love this life.
Heaven's going to have to work
hard, to live up

to just what we can see in the light.

But I don't really want to be
immortal. I guess. Especially
if it means being essentially alone,
or continuously bereaved. I'm fine
with dying,

I fully intend - it's
the only thing on my bucket list. But

I love the view from here
where we stand,
where we lie down
in grass, at the top of a hill.

Still, it would be kind of cool
if it could be me and one other person
I loved. Both of us
could stay so long, I bet
we could make that work. I'm
totally fucking accommodating! As long
as I've got

a partner
who will meet me three-quarters of the way.

(I meet her seven-eighths.)

Monday, May 05, 2014

chemistry is the most important

I love chemistry! When I was a young man
they told me chemistry
was so important

- now that I'm older
I say yes, it is so. It's so, but it's more
than just so; it's so
so it couldn't even get any moreso! I think

chemistry is probably the single most important
thing in a relationship. I'm pretty much fluorine
emotionally, where chemistry's concerned that
element's a slut which I am too emotionally speaking
I will bond with anything, especially when I'm feeling
negative.

My best girl though aw she's a gas gas
gas but unfortunately - a little on the noble side
- still! Given enough oxygen it's all right now
in our jumpin' jack erlenmeyer flask -

with our bond pretty volatile, arguably
even unstable, but you couldn't ask
for stronger one, and as far as I'm concerned
it endures and it will endure. And

she's adorable, and Lord, I've lost track
of which electrons are hers and which ones
I'm just hanging on to for dear life!

Dear life,

how are you. Doin' fine? We're pretty much covalent
I guess is what I'm saying, but without that chemistry
that alchemy without that spark
of animal vegetable mineral electromagnetism -

I don't know even where we'd be

On the subjectivity of morality

So here's the thing,

bitches. You can't tell

right from wrong unless

you can also tell why.

Or what, how? Some
authority? (in which case
you DON'T know - you just
flip the buck up) some
dipshit absolutism? some
inscrutable gut hunch?

Get your fuckin' gut hunch

back out of my face, holmes

-- can't say why? Then you don't know. You

are one of the people for whom IT IS TRUE

that right and wrong are pure subjective

- and a cowardly brown stain on the seat of your pants.

Reason
can show its work.
But if your right
is right for no reason - you ain't
right.

Figure out your morality
first, before you presume to put it
on parade.

Correct.

Thursday, May 01, 2014

As to patience

I have all the patience of stars in their courses,
of vast cosmic forces so surging and sprawled
they can't even decide: at the end of it all,
shall we pull it all back, or just let it ride?