zen
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Dreams of Impermanence She is trying to bend A silver tablespoon With her mind And a man to her will. Whatever he was When they met it was Not enough they have Grown in different directions. One has grown older The other has grown up If he will only genuflect Worship me in prayer. Celebrate
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When You Wake Up at Odd Hours I am eating rainbow sherbet In the dining room turned into my office. Smoking a blunt and a Newport It’s 5:39 in the A.M. The coffee is almost ready It’s sneaking up my nose Soon I’ll walk into the kitchen Barefoot, black jeans and Mister Rogers Sweater to
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Confessions of a Poolhall Philosopher I create nothing from the infinite within. I am not an artiste my words are clumsy my tongue thick with this alien vocabulary. I am a vessel I do not claim to control only to resonate. I listen to the voice of my people to see the emperor has no
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And It Was Sweet When I was about seven years old, I guess it was the summer of ’69. My father hit my mother for the first and last time After the fight we, my mother, little brother and I moved out of our white wood framed two-bed room house in Oakcliff 2607 Overton road
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American Haiku Being a psychopath has never stopped me from writing a good poem.
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In a dream I am Visited by the Buddha I asked him What are you doing here? He said nothing I said nothing.
Joey Cloudy online 