Sick Bed Poems, Part 4

I am too sick today for poetry. Poetry is the luxury of those not sitting right on the very ledge of a dark void.

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Sick Bed Poem, Part 3

All poems posted on Facebook first.

 

Who Cares

It

is

challenging

to

continually

post

poems

on

facebook

and

other

places

on-line

and

to

have

no

one

like

them

even

though

i

know

the

poems

are

good.

The

advantage

of

being

a

sick

poet

is

that

for

a

brief

period

of

time

you

get

to

not

care

what

anyone

else

thinks.

In

a

healthier

state,

i

would

care

more

about

my

poetry

not

being

liked

but

when

in

a

sick

bed,

who

cares.

I’m

doing

this

for

myself.

What

the

hell

else

is

there

to

do?

Sick Bed Poems, Part 2

All poems written while sick in bed and then posted on Facebook.

I Love Saturdays

I was preparing to

Take a nap on my bed.

While staring out the window

There was afternoon,

Blue sky and green plants

Swaying in the wind.

There was dog sounds, car

Sounds and time going by

Too fast sounds.

Then a naked lady with

Beautiful breasts and

Trimmed brown pubic hair

Walked by on the telephone wire.

This is why I love

Saturdays.

Slavery

It is 7:28am.

A time of

Doing nothing. Just

Sitting here with

My coffee, my

Fever, my body

Aches- listening to

Records and watching

The morning outside.

I don’t want

To do anything

But the day

Ahead is filled

With adult responsibilities,

Which just means

Things that must

Get done that

You do not

Want to do.

Poop and Pride

This morning while

Picking up dog poop

I stepped in dog poop.

I became angry, indignant

At something so beneath me.

“I’m no better than poop,”

I reminded myself

Because pride never works.

I became humble

And cleaned the poop

Off my shoe.

My Wife

I’m often grateful

For the absence

Of fear in

My wife.

I’m so riddled

By fear most

Of my life,

Always present.

This is why

I’m often grateful

For the lack

Of fear in

My wife.

Laconian Laundromat

I went into a

Laconian laundromat

With a bag filled with

Dirty clothes.

But nothing made any sense

So I left.

Sick Bed #2

Day four of

Whatever it is

Confining me to

This sick bed.

This sick bed

Is causing my

House to smell

Like a sick

House.

I gathered enough

Strength to walk

Out into my

Backyard and urinate

Under the avocado

And lemon trees.

I watched a

Hummingbird, remembered health

And then I

Walked like a

Sick man back

Into my sick

Bed.

God’s Drilling

When a boy

I thought the sound

Of an airplane

Moving across the sky

Was God drilling a hole

To get out.

Short Poetry

I’m not a very good poet,

Not like some poets I know.

That’s why I like to

Write short poetry.

Pencils, Erasers and Indignation

I feel indignation

Much of the time.

But then I remind myself,

We are just pencil lines

Drawn through infinite space

Soon enough to be erased.

The Plastic Clarinet

There is a plastic clarinet

On my dresser.

It is red,

With blue and yellow keys.

It stands there, erect

Waiting

For someone to play.

But I never do.

Not anymore at least.

Childhoods forever gone,

So I wonder why I still keep

The plastic clarinet.

Birds and Bicycles

Birds are bicycles

Moving across the sky.

Don’t believe what anyone else says.

When you are lonely

Get on your bicycle and go after them.

You will see what I mean.

Health Care

When sick

I try

Not to

Go to

Doctors.

Instead I

Spend hundreds

Of dollars

On natural

Supplements.

Throats sprays,

Immune herbs,

Nasal decongestants,

Colloidal silver,

Vitamin C,

Eucalyptus oil,

Reishi mushrooms,

Wellness Formula,

Zinc lozenges,

Raw honey,

And sometimes

A random

Lover.

I assault

My sickness

With every

Natural remedy

I can

Find and

Afford.

However now

That I

Am married

And older

Lovers are

No longer

Apart of

My health

Care.

Why I am Canceling Work Today

I’m a therapist.

When I am

Ill, your problems

make no sense

To me. Your

Problems, my problems-

All a luxury

Of health.

Strong Character

Most people

Judge but

That is

Only because

Their character

Is weak.

How many

Of you

Assholes write

An entire

Book of

Poetry while

Stuck in

Bed, sick

With flu?

This is

What I

Call strong

Character.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sick Bed Poems, Part 1.

All poems written and posted on Facebook while sick in bed over the past week.

“Fuck”

After being

Up for

An hour

Or so,

Taking care

Of a

Few Sunday

House chores,

After being

Sick in

Bed all

Day I

Sat back

Down on

My bed

And said

“Fuck” out

Loud to

No one.

Health

I want you

Back so bad

That I’m willing

To lay here

In bed for

Days on end

To have you

Back with me.

Failed Experiment

I’m a failed

Experiment.

I was raised

To be upper

Class.

Wealthy beyond all

Measure.

My childhood and

Young adult life

Filled with Private

Schools, Symphonies, Tutors,

Museums, Country Clubs,

Five Star Hotels,

Finest of Dining,

Exclusive Summer Camps,

Brand New Cars,

Clothes Shopping at

Nieman Marcus and

Nordstrom.

But for whatever

Reason it did

Not feel right

And I dropped

Out.

Now I’m an

Older man living

A lower middle

Class life and

Sometimes I wonder

What I would

Have been like

If I were

Rich.

Sickness Favors The Poet In A Person

The thing

About poetry

Is that

It is

Impossible to

Write it

When you

Have much

To do.

Poetry comes

On its

Own time,

And if

You force

It, it

Is crap.

Poetry requires

Empty space

Within which

To arise.

A busy

World like

This world

Is a

World with

Absent poets.

This is

Why being

Sick in

Bed for

Days on

End can

Favor the

Poet in

A person.

Small Pleasures

It happened once when I was 6 or 7.

Today it happened again.

I was watching a fly,

Resting on a window

With the afternoon sun warming its belly.

I could swear I saw it smiling.

Sick Bed

The past two or

Three days I’ve been

Stuck in a sick bed.

Days ravaged by

Exhaustion and nights

Tormented by a stabbing

And swollen sore throat.

Writing poetry on Facebook

For a few others to read,

It’s a remarkable thing.

Who would have ever

Thought that a sick man

Could still be creative in

The world even while

Stuck in a sick bed.

A Thought From A Psychotherapist Sick In Bed.

If you knew

The stories

I’ve heard.

Again and again.

The vast majority

Of people are

Absolutely crazy and

Completely emotionally unhinged.

Centers of a

Made up universe

That only exists

In their self

Centered and deluded

Heads. And for

The most part

These are the

Ones who don’t

Or won’t or

“Don’t need” therapy.

Just a thought

From a psychotherapist

Sick in bed.

MTV Overdose

It doesn’t happen

Anymore.

But when young it did

A lot.

I would overdose on

MTV.

Often at 1 or 2am.

When this happened

I really

Believed I was

A rock star.

Sometimes the effects lasted

Days.

Courage and Likes

It takes courage to write

Poems no one likes.

But Note To Self:

If people liked your poems

You would not be the kind of

Poet you are.

Not Giving A Shit

If

Sickness

Has

Taught

Me

One

Thing

It’s

That

I

Need

To

Improve

At

Not

Giving

A

Shit.

My Wife Likes My Poetry

Almost every

Poem I

Write I

Read to

Her.

She always

Seems to

Like most

Of what

I write,

Which is

Good since

I’m always

Unsure.

Collecting Lemons

All the

Lemons had

Fallen to

The ground.

Some decomposing,

Some not.

I felt

Bad, the

Lemons took

So much

Time to

Grow Into

What they

Became. So

I got

A green

Plastic grocery

Bag, got

Down on

Hands and

Knees and

Began picking

Them up.

“Lemons are

A good

Source of

Vitamin C,”

I told

Myself with

Mud on

My hands.

Vitamin C,

Always good

For a

Sick man.

 

(Part 2 coming tomorrow.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Five Short Poems

Pencils, Erasers and Indignation

I feel indignation
Much of the time.
But then I remind myself,
We are just pencil lines
Drawn through infinite space
Soon enough to be erased.

 

The Plastic Clarinet

There is a plastic clarinet
On my dresser.
It is red,
With blue and yellow keys.
It stands there, erect
Waiting
For someone to play.
But I never do.
Not anymore at least.
Childhoods forever gone,
So I wonder why I still keep
The plastic clarinet.

 

Birds and Bicycles

Birds are bicycles
Moving across the sky.
Don’t believe what anyone else says.
When you are lonely
Get on your bicycle and go after them.
You will see what I mean.

 

Short Poem

My penis
Is not
Short,
But this
Poem is.

 

Small Pleasures

It happened once when I was 6 or 7.
Today it happened again.
I was watching a fly,
Resting on a window
With the afternoon sun warming its belly.
I could swear I saw it smiling.

When Young, How To Grow Old Gracefully.

Ok, listen. Now that all the old folk are asleep, I can tell you.

When young there are certain things that you can make sure you do in order to grow old gracefully. As someone who is 87 years old today, I think I am in a position to comment on this too often ignored subject.

So.

When Young:

-Masturbate regularly and cut the shit about feeling guilty afterwards. Common. Just have fun and blow off steam.

-Make sure you sit in the sun, in as little clothes as possible, as much as possible.

-Be outside!

-Wear bathing suits as much as the climate permits.

-Use your body. Be physical as much as you can. This is very important because those who use their bodies as much as possible when young, age the best.

-Be creative in some way.

-Be naked. Be naked as much as you can. Your body will never look as good as it does now. Get over your insecurities and just be nude, preferably around others. If you are not naked now you will feel like you missed out on something very fundamental and important when older.

-Rebel. Humans are not meant to be fit in boxes. Our brains atrophy and we grow dumb when boxed in. A dumb older person is never an attractive thing. Rebel! Those who rebel when young often maintain their edge into older age. An older person with an edge is always a sexy thing.

-Party. Go to parties. Dress your best. Look sexy. Flirt. Socialize. Be out and about. Enjoy having other people check you out. Thank them because this will not last forever. People stop checking you out as you age. These will be some of the best times of your life and it is always those who partied more when young who have better stories to tell when old.

-Do some drugs. Enjoy drinking. Maybe even smoke for a period of time. These activities will loosen up your brain, let you unload and have fun. But know moderation. Those who abuse substances when young do not look good when old. Many don’t even get to get old because of their inability to be moderate.

-Meditate. Learn how to just be in states of peace. Be present for your life. You will learn how to be a less stressed out person. An older stressed out person is always an ugly sight.

-Again, use your body but in sexual ways. Be sexual! Your body will never be as ready for sex and as desired to be sexual with as it is when young. Growing older makes a person less desirable sexually and often less interested in sexual interaction. So use it while you got it. Fuck away! Have fun! Those who are more sexual when young always grow older more gracefully. It is the ones who have tons of sexual hang-ups when young who just become dicks and bitches as they age. They also tend to grow fat but this is often because they have given up on their bodies since their bodies were always such a threat.

-Be sexy. Look good! Girl or guy, make sure you put in the time to looking the best you can. Not only will you get a lot more attention but you will also have much more fun. You will feel better about yourself and you will be desired by everyone. A young person who is attractive to everyone when young always grows older with more confidence and civility. They tend to maintain their good looks into older age because they have developed the habit of putting in the time needed to look good.

-Read as much as you can. This will help your mind from atrophying and becoming like all these forgetful and inarticulate aging dumb vegetables I am now surrounded by. Reading helps to maintain a person’s attention span and an older person without an attention span just becomes a miserable, dumb, checked-out adult. We call these people Nimrods.

-Eat healthy food. Get enough protein so that your sex drive and brain cells have enough food. Take vitamins to slow the aging process. Eat a lot of raw green vegetables to preserve your gums and teeth. Most old people who look like shit and have rotting gums when old ignored these things.

-Don’t take yourself so fucking seriously. Get out of your fucking head. You are going to die. Everyone you know and everything you do is transitory. Stop with the bullshit. Get out of your fucking head and chill out. Enjoy being young. Get over your problems because when you get to my age you will not be able to remember what they were. This means that they do not matter. So have fun. Read. Exercise. Take care of yourself. Be outside. Be in your body. Fuck. Watch porn. Meditate. Socialize. Masturbate. Exercise. Wear bathing suits. Be naked. Hang out with other people your own age. Break rules. Be creative. Rebel. Party but learn moderation. Be free-spirited. Be wild. Be strange. Look good. If you don’t do these things I promise you will not grow old gracefully. You will just be a miserable, over weight old bore sitting on the couch unable to get off your phone. Trust me. I am surrounded by them.

Suburban Silence, Part One.

 

I don’t ever talk about it. No one knows I feel this way. They can’t understand. They don’t want to understand. They see the world the way they want to see it. To them I am just a twenty-seven-year-old fuck up.

I know they think I am a loner. I hate that they think this way about me. I want to have deep connections with other people. I want friends but I am picky about who my friends are so I end up with no friends. I know this may sound snobby, but I don’t go in on friends if I do not think they are worth it. I just cannot do the superficial friends thing. I can’t have friends that I only talk with occasionally. I know some people are recharged and energized by this but not I. I want my interactions to be deep.

I like people who have personalities that I can mesh with. Low key personalities is what I gravitate towards. I just can’t make friends with people who are loud and obnoxious. Most people tend to be this way so it is hard. I need friends who can talk about things that I like to talk about. I can’t just talk about the weather and superficial things. I know extroverts can do this but I can’t.

I don’t just talk to random people, but when I do they never fit my criteria. So I end up with no friends.

Sometimes I will make friends because I do not want to hurt the other person’s feelings but deep down I am not feeling it. I know that this is not the kind of person I want to be friends with.

I don’t know. I want to have people to connect with at a deeper level but I don’t go by myself to the places these people hang out. Feels too risky for me. I know I should push through this. I know I should just suck it up and go but I don’t. Being so scared and selective severely lessens the odds of me meeting people. I want to meet other people but I am so scared and selective that I don’t try.

If people initiate with me, if they start talking to me, I will talk their ear off. I am not able to initiate, which statistically lowers my ability to have friends. People who are able to initiate conversations with random people, have a lot more friends and fun experiences. This is an ability or skill I just don’t have.

To initiate feels morally wrong to me, even though it would probably be in my best interests to try and initiate more. But it feels like I would be being someone who I am not. But because I am not willing to be something I am not, I end up not getting the results I would like to have.

I feel so angry about this. I have to be something that I am not in order to get someplace that would benefit me. I want the benefits but I do not want to be something that I am not. I would prefer to be able to get these benefits by just being myself.

It makes me so angry.

I guess, I guess that if you are already the kind of person who is a sell-out it doesn’t matter so much but I do not want to have to become a sell-out to get what would be good for me. Yes, I want all the things that come from being a sell-out, but once you become a sell-out you can’t come back from it. You end up losing all your time and are always worried about work.

I don’t want to end up this way. They don’t understand this about me. It is not that I am lazy and a loner. There is much more to it than this.

I want to be able to maintain whatever sense of self that I have left. Maybe I am asking too much? Maybe I am not being realistic?

I know it is possible to work a job and still maintain a sense of self but I often feel like it is one or the other for me. Where would I get the energy to do both? I don’t know if I could personally do it without a specific kind of discipline. I’ve never been able to be disciplined. It is possible to do everything that is asked of you and maintain your sense of self but I just don’t know where all this energy would come from. But it could happen. I would have to be in the right mindset to make it happen.

I am just really scared of becoming that kind of person who says that they do not want to do something but they are going to do it anyways because they have to. I can do this. I can become this kind of person but I feel like once I do there will be no turning back. If I get to this point I will just be mad and pissed off all the time. It feels imprisoning. No time to do what you want because all your time is spent around work. I will end up mad all the time.