Oh, Great! A Two Year Old Poem and Nothing Has Changed

Sometimes

I’m as inspired

As the Rumi dripping

Buddha spewing

Aphorisms

Want me to be.

 

But then

There are days

Like this

Where all the Breyers

On Earth

Wouldn’t help.

 

Tell me

Why the Hell

I want what’s bad

For aging female

Playwrights

Like me.

 

Maybe

It’s just

Springtime allergies

Fucking up

What’s left of

My mind.

 

and they're not talking at the moment

Speech from "Bulldog"

Mary German

There used to be something called a newspaper. Not just a brand name on a web site, but actual paper with ink on it. Ink that would stain your fingers and newspapers had weight and they landed on your front porch with a “Thump!” And I’ll bet your kids have never touched one. You never read them the funny papers sitting on the couch. You probably don’t have the time to “waste” reading silly colored panels to your children who were holding their IPhones in their hands, waiting for you to shut up so they could to get the important news…their Junior High friends and pictures of their friends and little damned else in a day that will probably change their lives because some law was passed, or some great man was shot, but they didn’t care and they didn’t notice.

Thousands of us in the newspaper business reported and researched and laid it out and printed it and delivered it and today, all you need is one man on a one computer. And the computer does all the work, corrects the spelling, lays out the type and the pictures and then delivers it all with one push of a button. And the irony is that’s the only way it might ever reach those children with their noses locked on their electronic device. 

Bad Mood Rising

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On the brink of reality, I stop

And look behind me at my life

I pretend it’s all sunshine and blue birds

But I have to face the failures.

We repress anger and lie to ourselves

Hooked on fantasies and daydreams,

The lie that if Life doesn’t work right now

We will force it to go our way

I at least have comfort and medicine

While a lost world is on the brink

The surest sign of insanity is

Doing the same thing over and

Over and expecting a different end

My Knights had less than shining armor

And tilted at rainbows, then fell

Sancho Panza here had to rescue them

And escape ere they bled her dry

It is what it is it do what it do

So said the Master Ray of Charles

Anger and depression changes nothing

But sometimes reality is a bridge

To carry us to an answer

Sonnet 89 -- Aren't YOU Little Miss Sunshine?

The age of fantasy is dead at last

Your lovely daydreams can never come true

We have a glorious, glittering past

But our future might be a nasty zoo

It doesn’t matter if it’s true or false

As long as it gets us through one more day

We silently cling in an empty waltz

And quiet our minds with the swing and sway

But the sun is warm and the sky is blue

And for a moment we can laugh and sing

Or smile when I see the beauty of you

Or trees or sky or a cute fuzzy thing

At least we can cling to fun memories

Before we’re cut down by guns or disease

Mind Scaps

When the touch of your hand

Is a source of pain

Love is not enough

The song of madness

Becomes hurtful to my ears

Love, give me silence

go to hell and take your daydreams with you

and while you’re at it, grab a few of mine

ah, kid, you died a dozen years ago

the same time I was learning to survive