Message In A Bottle

messageinabottle

Message In A Bottle

They say

The Poet

Is as only as

Good as

The Poem

But this

Is not a poem

Creating words, worlds

Out of love and destruction

Drawing primitive images

From memory, the darkness

And the light

So no

This is not a sonnet

This is not a poem

Or words written out by

The hand out humanity

Written out by the

Hand of hope

This is a poem

This is the voice of every single

Poet and single every waking life

Sending out small ships

From shorelines

Messages in bottles sent

Out unto the oceans

Out unto the seas

Out unto the world

And out among the stars

A prayer written for

No one no God

But the poem

And you

__________

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Not My Time

notmytime

The deal is no matter what, no matter how bad things get or are that we try.

Even in the worst of times we must remember there will be light,

someone, somewhere waiting.

NOT MY TIME

Like a moth

I move

Towards the

Light

See

All memories

Loves &

Regrets

Remember

My childhood

And feel the sadness

And the pain

Of each human

Being that I

Ever hurt

But then?

I remember

That I left my

Cigarettes

And my bottle of

Scotch in the house

I hear a voice,

Someone telling me

“It’s your time”

But I tell them

“Wait in line”

___________

 

 

Winter Smoke

WinterSmoke

WINTER SMOKE

We have all seen it

Have all heard it before

Standing outside

The crowd

Armed with just our cigarettes

And our dreams

As the snow falls down

Upon some ancient city

Lost somewhere

A decade or so ago

_____________

Abandon hope, etc.

On earth there is no heaven, but there are pieces of it.

 

Numb.

Sadly how we’ve all become, what we feel, see, touch everyday. We see death everyday starving everyday.
The strong only survive rule is bullshit. A lie a hope a dream. You die you die and you’re dead your gone you’re burned you’re buried you’re dead. That’s it. That’s all. No sickness and no more memories you walk on as humanity thinks it’s still better than you or I wish. But this is no dystopian movie or a novel you have read. Where the gathering places of human beings reek of stink, piss & shit. So you keep on moving, keep living.

Numb.

Abandon all ye who enter here.

Leave.

This is what hell looks truly looks like. This is what hell is.

Abandon hope, etc.

Abandon love, etc
Remain a vacant nothing or you shall surely perish.

Remain.

Into The Great Unknown, September, 2024

9/2024
9/2024

INTO THE GREAT UNKNOWN

Mankind and

Civilizations really

Don’t mix

They have tried

It over & over

Now all dead

Or now all shit

And so here we go again

Into the great unknown

Remember

To bring your lunch

And your soul

____________

 

Interview With A Poet Isolationist (The Hermit)

Interview With A Poet Isolationist

INTERVIEW WITH A POET-ISOLATIONIST

(Old Fool)

I.

Ok

I’m here.

I will address each question in order and then

Like all good politicians

Forget exactly what you’ve said.

I’m really too old for all of this shi …

What?

I just want to drink coffee and whiskey, read books

And write, nothing else

But nothing,

And nothing else

But words

In silence. 

Alone.

Do I have any advice?

No.  None. Nothing

Except this;

Old words

Names

Abandoned

Archaic

And dead

To the world

New Gods

Mythologies

Waiting to be born

So pick up your pen,

Leave me alone

And write.

II.

If death is like a sonnet

Life is a haiku

And the poem?

The poem is beauty & magic

Said with our last fading breath

Love, words floating off

Into the abyss.

And in only a few short syllables?

Your heart

Your voice

The universe

The end

That’s all

That’s it

____________

Upon A Winter Night

Upon A Winter Night

UPON A WINTER NIGHT

In the early hours

The winter light

Is just beginning, gathering

As she breathes in

The cold November air

Tonight has been

Quiet and she does

Not seem to care

For she is young

And does not fear

The sounds from all

The nearby

Empty places where all of the

Men have torn away

The trees

And she has wandered far away

From home

There has been

A light dusting of snow

And through the woods on the darkest night

She goes. No sounds

And only a walk upon the places

Where all the grass has disappeared

And in the early hours

As the winter light

Is just beginning, gathering

She breathes in

The cold November air

The sudden sound

A machine. Curious,

What are you?

“Sleep”

__________

 

II . The Broken Hymn

The Broken Hymn

THE BROKEN HYMN

In praise we must celebrate

(something)

Of the dead leaves

The cold air

The fallen oak

We

Who have passed

From this world and into

The next

The next poem, the next

Season the next affair

Who lay down upon the

Memories of old lovers

And lost friends

Who hear the voices

Of evening’s memory

In broken silences

In broken hymns

Who disappear into the

Darkest night and

Never return

Again

___________

Second Coming

Once Upon An America

Like the generations of leaves, the lives of mortal men. Now the wind scatters the old leaves across the earth, now the living timber bursts with the new buds and spring comes round again. And so with men: as one generation comes to life, another dies away.

Homer, The Iliad

SECOND COMING

It’s time to turn off

 The lights

Time to turn in all our keys

And throw our damn cell phones

Down the drain

It’s time to practice what we preach

And sleep out on the beach

And to fall in love again all the same

Under the stars

For man shall always take woman

And woman shall always take man

No matter what history states

And God

Shall always favor

Gods

And no one else

For these are the rusted old cities

Old memories, and old towns

Full of old ladies and old men

Survivors and the dead

Who can barely tell

The difference

So let us remember

Let us live

In a golden age

In a future hour

With nothing to fear

But hope

_____________

 

 

 

A VEIL LIFTED

A VEIL LIFTED

A VEIL LIFTED

Did you know?

Understand or

See this?

It came down upon us

Like the rain.

Darkness overthrown

The light

We now talk

Of golden days past.

Governments

Now all gone

Your America

My grandfathers

Of thee I sing

Weep

For the millions

Dead & buried

Beneath the new earth

Of a new age

Holy is the farmer

Holy is the lamb

The harvest

The flowers.

And holy art thou

Who shares & partakes,

Works for the souls

He loves, friends.

New cleared

Fields like Elysium

Made again

By men

Fathers sons

Mothers daughters

Warm in the winter

Wood by the fire

Grateful

For the deer

And rabbit

The rifle

And the knife

Gardens

Our labored

Shared

Amen.

To take the broken roads

And to travel, our soldiers

Take the old cars, trucks

To the fallen & empty

Cities of another time

The stories of

Electricity &

The bright

Glowing lights

And the magic of it all,

What is now gone,

Or what was

Long ago

Before the storm

The remaining old

Tell the stories,

Talk of movies & games,

The famous & the beautiful

Icons worshiped … loved

Another day

That the sun has shown out

Another day that

Our garden grows.

In peace

The veil

Has been lifted

And all the angels

Cease to be

No airplanes

In the sky,

And no steel shelters

The tribes

Spread out

Over miles

Our hope

Our pride

Our strength

A land … place where

All the children

Play again

Love again

Live

Off the shores

Of old Amerika

I write this poem

For thee

A fisherman

A hunter

With wife & child

Faith and pistols

For each

Awaiting another

Time, another place

A new golden age

Of truth

And philosophy,

Art and science

In prayer

The scavengers

And the killers

Long gone

A veil lifted

Humanity begins,

Starts over once more

To try to get

All right

_______________

THE ARCHAEOLOGY OF HER SMILE

THE ARCHAEOLOGY OF HER SMILE

The sun is up, the sky is blue. It’s beautiful and so are you.

~ The Beatles, Dear Prudence

 

THE ARCHAEOLOGY OF HER SMILE

” I love you”

These words that he said

A thousand lifetimes ago.

A thousand women weeping

A thousand flowers burned.

The poem,

Just written for someone, somewhere

Once.

Beloved

A wife

A daughter

A love.

About the archaeology of her smile,

About her hidden voice,

The joyful noise of her child

Or just the way she laughed,

Poised, in the mirror

Or running thru the grass

Or thru the fields

Of forever.

For these words

Were said, were written

 A thousand lifetimes ago,

A thousand women weeping

A thousand flowers burned.

The poem,

Just written for someone, somewhere

Once.

About the archaeology of her smile,

About the way she loved

About the life she lived with you

About the world she touched

For this is her true story

Written in the voices of each life.

Civilization, man or woman

And of their rise or fall.

For without her or her

Beauty, her eyes, or her smile?

Why there would be

No “his-story” 

At all

OF ROADS & KINGDOMS

OFROADSKINGDOMS

On earth there is no heaven, but there are pieces of it

OF ROADS & KINGDOMS

How many roads

Must you travel?

How many lives

Must you take?

There are no kingdoms,

No endgames left

No crown of

Diamonds or thorns

No victory

Or failure

No paradise

Or throne

There are only

Kingdoms of

The mind and

Only kingdoms

Of dust

Poverty

Hunger

And starvation

And the only kingdom that’s left?

Is

“Love”

______________

The Poet

The Poet
THE POET

I am the wandering poet
I do not sleep
I am wasting these days in the dregs
Of the deep

I live in the church of myself
Bizarre & unfulfilled
The spirit of the waking man
And the fool, the reckless fool

For I am walking round the circle
From the outside looking in
I am the shadow on the wall
And the wall is growing thin

So can you see me?

Only Here

And There

And Now?

____________

I. Of Memories And Days Past … Wisdom & Truth

The Journal of 2046

WISDOM

 

When I was a child I asked my Grandfather too many questions

Mostly about life.

And one day, I asked him a very strange question and I said;

“Grandpa?”

After the world is gone

After all the towers, all the cities

All the buildings have fallen

Do you think there will be any of us

Anyone any -thing left?

My Grandfather, looking a bit bemused,

Took another smoke from his pipe

Exhaled and then quietly said

“Yes”

There will always be 3 things left

And they have always remained the same

Love

Dust

Magic

And of course,

There will always be

“Words”

_____________

TRUTH

Everything

Is still

Everything

The words

Are still

Everything

____________

 

 

Turn or Burn

Gun of God

 “For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men who suppress the truth in unrighteousness.”

~ Romans 1:18

___________

Some believe

Some don’t

Some struggle

Some won’t

And some will take

Everything that you own

And some will kill you

Just to burn your bones

But it’s always the same old line

Always the same old trick

Always the same old bullshit

Always the same old shtick

All in the name of God

But the way I see it?

Your God or my God

Never carried a gun

And my God never taught you

You’re right from your wrong

But I ?

I carry the reaper

Of the Lord

And that’s

The only God

You need to

Pray to

“Now”

____________

Forget The Dust

forget the dust

FORGET THE DUST

An old man

Upon an old bed

I now breathe slowly

And remember

All of it

Every moment

Every dream

And I still believe

Still hold all these

Beliefs that

Everything is

Still everything

Love

Is still

Everything

That the words are

The all or

The nothing

(So forget the dust)

Because

One day

I shall

Become young

Again

I shall

Become truth

I shall

See all beauty

And like the lotus

Basho wrote of

Each morning shall

Blossom forth

Into words

__________

 

AS AN OLD MAN I STILL WANDER BACKWARDS

AS AN OLD MAN I STILL WANDER BACKWARDSAS AN OLD MAN

I STILL WANDER

BACKWARDS

I will be silent.

I shall not speak of death

I shall not speak of these things

Anymore

For when I was a young man

I believed in peace

Before towers fell

And soldiers died

And after blood

And the media

Monsters

Vultures

Took the place

Of lives

Of hopes

Of dreams

Before

The scythe &

The sword

Became mightier

Than our love

Or the pen

In the days when

I used to write

Sonnets, songs

Poems

No

I shall remain silent

I shall no longer

Speak of these things

These words

These dreams

Peace

Anymore

No more

_____________

 

 

 

THE BONES OF OUR EXISTENCE

ancient-book

THE BONES OF OUR EXISTENCE

If there’s an archaeology of the book, then the beginnings are deep under the surface,

under the soil.

~  J.M. Cortez

____________

Every moment cannot be the poem

No matter what the poets say

Just like the idea of black & white

Everything is gray

We are cities of words we are

Oceans made of language & voices

We are merely the beginning

But always the end

We are the stories told & handed

Down from one generation

To the next

The bones of our own existence

The chance to start again

Without any heroes or myths

But with beauty, love, grace

And compassion

A story worthy

Of being

Alive

___________

ASHES

ragged flag

Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down today.
Nothing gold can stay.

Nothing Gold Can Stay
~ Robert Frost

ASHES

The world died

So young

And then vanished

Like love

And only left the

Words behind

In its wake

That in the light

Only the dead can see

In the dark

___________

The Waiting

waiting

THE WAITING

There are too many

Voices that are false

Too many lines,

Electric automations

We are always

Waiting for the

Answer

That no one

Really has

So I will just

Take a walk in

The woods

See the true world

That we have left

Behind

To hell with

All the voices

To hell

With all the

Waiting

If you need me

Then come and

Find me

Write a letter

Or breathe in

The air

For life is too

Short for

A reply

That our

Souls

Already

Know

__________

Writer

WriterTattooTwo

WRITER 

“Kick at the darkness until it bleeds daylight.”

~ Bruce Cockburn

So.

You’ve fucked up the day

You’ve fucked up the universe

You’ve fucked up the world.

The words

The silence

No sense

No magic

No deposit

And no return

Where every verse is a lie

And every sentence is a truth,

Where every love is a hate

And every song is just another

Moment nostalgic memory of?

But you got older

You got long in the tooth

With all the stereotypes,

The gray in your hair

The cigarettes and all of

Your faded glories & faded tattoos

So you sit at the bar

Alone with your drink

And you sit at the bar with all

Your stories & words, your soul

Your paper & your pen

An extinct species still living

Here on planet earth with the

Dead & all of their memories

In your heart, your head &

Beneath your feet.

But this is what it is

This is what was meant

To be.

An original cliché

Faithful til’ the end

Of the poem

__________

ODE TO CRUCIFEROUS DREADNOUGHT

CRUCIFEROUS POEM

ODE TO CRUCIFEROUS DREADNOUGHT

He was born

He died

He came

He bared the

Cross of poetry

Was a martyr

In a cage

He wrote

Many words

And accomplished

A few things

Wore a heavy

Black coat and

Wrote a poem

In his own name

About

“Nothing”

______________

Underground

UnderGround

UNDERGROUND

You are a dead land

An old song

A broken heart

You are merely a skeleton

Of verse

The world changed

You never did, the junkies

All died along with Sid

And now the sound now outweighs

The magic of the words

Never lost

Never found

But still alive

& bleeding

This is

What it means

To be

“Legend”

Totem

Totem

TOTEM

A memory

A totem

Written

For all the

Lost souls

Of animals

Some of us

Still wear the cross

Some of us

Just bury the dead

And place a stone

Above them

Read eulogies

And bible verses

And wear

Their remaining skins

Scream prophetically

Into the sky

And

Call ourselves

“Poets”

But none of us

Ever get to heaven

In the end

_____________

September, 2030 ~ The Future Is …

whiskey

Q.

The Future is Coming

“The future is dark, which is the best thing the future can be, I think.”

— Virginia Woolf, Diaries (January 18, 1915)

What Are You Going To Do ?

A:

I think I’ll have another glass of whiskey

And surrender