Everything seems to be on them these days
Last legs
tottering topsy in turnabout haze
The car isn't shot, but it does need a lot
I've got
to find something that so far I've not
Somewhere in the air there is something for me
I see
I'm not doing much with this master's degree
Now I tip out the drips and squeeze out the dregs...
Last legs
is there a reply to the question that begs?
Last Legs
By Hesid
Toothbrush, hairbrush, razor,
Clothes still strewn across the bed
The pillows are all disarrayed
From where you laid your head.
Suitcase in the closet,
One thing, at least, you put away!
Although it should go with you now
on your extended stay.
Money, wallet, keys and car
You somehow left behind
By leaving these things with me, love,
You took my peace of mind.
I worry for us both, dear,
As I think of you out there
Lying free beneath a tree
Without a thought or care.
Oh night owl,
You who roam,
You don't know
How it is at home
To lay awake
In the dark of night
And worry if
You are alright.
I fall asleep
But then, a sound.
I stir and find
You're not around.
Try as I might
To drift away
My mind won't cease
Awake I lay.
You Forgot To Pack Your Things-- By Hesid
Night Owl
By Hesid
Will these techno labor pains abate,
When the future comes about?
Or is it our enduring fate
To push the old ways out?
Will there ever be a stasis
Where the pace of changes slows
And the knowledge of the aging
Is something children need to know?
Will our children swim in oceans
That we cannot understand?
Will our antiquated notions
Never be in high demand?
Is the ending of tradition
Something blessedly begun,
Or with the death of superstition
Does some other horror come?
A special circle
For those who seek
Do not encase me
In your ring
On small sharp hooves
The ground will tear
With wisened wings
To cut the air
As pure as dirt
No blinding light
The moss and lichen
Cool as night
Beyond tired are
winter trees
Shivering
bereft of leaves.
Autumn, Winter
Summer, Spring
How many more
have we of these?
Each day a gift,
each day a curse
a chance to lift,
to fall…or worse.
Life is mediocre,
melancholy
Not all soulful,
Not all jolly.
I've been shut inside this cage
of seasonal rage
sometimes I think that you and I
are on the same page.
But when you say you're hurting
'cause your vacation is shortened
I think about how I can't even
buy myself curtains.
At least I have the ghetto skills
to mend my own ills
by using clothespins to attach sheets
to my windowsills.
But each year I'm growing older
and as winter grows colder
I find I have grown weary
I don't burn, I just smolder.
Begging at the sound of a bell
Salivating, starving, we sell
Listen to the burning bush
it whispers with a hissing shush:
"You gotta work harder
gotta get another dollar".
Drawn by natural need,
we give in to greed.
Morals get mushy
voices drop low
We long to sing a song that
We no longer know.
It is not for family
or even for me…
but I need to get more.
Who are we working for?
Is it power we desire?
a better life that we aspire
to live? Is this hell?
The only answer is the sound of a bell.
I'll kick up the teapot
If you chill with my robot
When wee man spews snot
I'll clean up if you will not
Gotta stick together
Whenever through whatever
Endeavor that we never
May be torn asunder
Gonna scratch the dog butt
Go get to the final cut
Don't be gettin' stuck in rut
Gotta use your brain nut.
Gotta keep it cleaver
Whether under the weather,
Wearing long underwear,
Or in an ugly sweater.
Leaves up in the window
Whenever things start to blow
Ya'outta know what I know
Gotta get a good show.
Gotta hold the truth tight
Nigh unto the late night
Try to fight the good fight
For what we see to be right.
As you lie sleeping
I tabulate your pulse
The rise and fall of living things,
The pattern of existence.
In the darkness
Astride the movement of your chest
I try to catch the rhythm
Of my own being.
Pondering the numeral of love,
I shiver gently like a sodden bird
(the droplets flung away in flight),
It is prime and also absolute.
Indefinite, the seconds tick
The thrum of thunder in our veins
What are the multiples of living?
Can we quantify a touch?
Our hearts will beat together
a finite number of times.
I calculate them, fall asleep
and still know nothing.
Heaven
By Hesid
In the Middle, In-between
By Hesid
Socioeconomics
By Hesid
Pavlov's Human
By Hesid
Our Little Life Together
By Hesid
The Equation of Being
By Hesid
Techni-Kali
By Hesid
Sand runs like water through my hands,
In this place with little sand
I try to keep a grain or two,
'Tis futile, they pass through.
In the briefest micro moment of the cosmos,
I inhale and breathe out prayers to a false idol.
A snorted laugh, a steadily beating heart quickens:
These are the replies I give myself in lieu of answers.
As I wait to catch a glimpse of conscious meaning,
I still my heart and hold my breath to listen closer.
Palms raised upwards to the darkening sky,
I reach for crumbs that fall from the floor of heaven.
Time
By Hesid
Questions
By Hesid
In the swaying of the breeze
I hear the ocean in the trees
I feel the spray
In the drops that shower down
I feel waves break against the ground
I'm swept away
As I watch ocean waves of grass
I feel the autumn come to pass
in this inland bay
Kevin M. Knapp
here's a song full of sap
just to let you know that I'm happy and crap!
After thirteen years together I'm in love with you still
and if there's anything I can do for you I will.
You and I we go together like corn beans and squash
We may not have a lot of money but I feel pretty posh.
Kevin M. Knapp
here's a song full of sap
just to let you know that I'm happy and crap!
I love our little lady and I love our cat
and I love the little boy that we had after that.
If we never have our land, well that's alright
If we're standing holding hands for our whole life.
Kevin M. Knapp
here's a song full of sap
just to let you know that I'm happy and crap!
Trust in the great mystery and its alright
I'm sorry I get pissy in the middle of the night
If I die today I've had a wonderful life
and I'm glad I had the chance to be your wife!
I can make shelter
in the snow
but I don't know
my computer.
Kill my friend
and you will shake me
delete his contact
you may break me.
I can make fire
and find food in the wild
but in the office
I am often like a child.
One hundred years ago
I would be wise.
Now it seems I do not know
how to survive
My credit card is there
When times are rough
She picks me up
From my misfortune
She is not platinum
Or silver
But she has a few
Here and there
She is not a visa
Or a MasterCard
But her eyes crinkle
When she smiles
She looks tired
As she hands me what she can
I wish I had
Something to give her
I wonder if she's missed
The beaches:
The warm salt air
Across her face.
She does not fit
Inside my wallet
So we go
Our separate ways.
I tear my shirt
and cut my heart out with a stone
the life you lived
is not my own
I must forgive you
for leaving me alone
Poor slob
ain't got a doorknob
but the lightbulbs work
got dog food
but my dog's rude
trash noshing jerk
How I try
starved for starlight
I've gone all soft
All my life
under streetlights
in white walled lofts.
Wyoming Sea
By Hesid
True Love
By Hesid
Modern Survival
By Hesid
Social Capital/Poor Man's Credit-- By Hesid
Mourning
By Hesid
Comfortably Poor
By Hesid
Anger'll keep a body warm
when you haven't got a blanket
It'll keep you marching through the storm
when you feel you just can't take it
It keeps you working late at night
when the children are all sleeping
After work and supper's done
and the house still needs some keeping
It'll keep you fed
until you're dead
and it'll help you keep on striving
and there's something said
for meat and bread
when it comes down to surviving
But it ain't much good
beyond all that
when it comes to doing better
it makes you make
unthought mistakes
when you need to be more measured
Anger's great
when life's a'shake
to get you through the bad stuff
but you must expire
that inner fire
to make it through the good ones.
I cannot remain here forever
or even much longer
every day I stay
my urge to wander grows stronger.
I cannot deny my hunger
or my anger
forever.
This is not what I expected
but that is not your fault
I just wanted it all
To be the fly on the wall
and still
hold your heart in my hands
give me another chance
and I will strive
to live these contradictions.
From Mother to Daughter
By Hesid
The Limits of Anger
By Hesid
Time to Go
By Hesid
I got a food box
and a payday loan
and suddenly
I'm not so all alone
And I say: Hey,
it's a beautiful day
Everything was
meant to go this way.
I help others
but I can't help myself
I wasn't blessed
with much material wealth
I don't have much,
but I have something real
a sense of humor
and an iron will
It is these things
that get me through the day
gifts that cannot be
taken away.
If striped of nicknacks
lying nude on the beach
I could kick back and relax
and still enjoy being me.
This is not the first time
I've considered crime
but I can't rhyme
to save my life.
I'm from a long line
of worn down wives,
tapped out, tongue tied
and full of lies.
Back then, way back when,
there was still a life
but slip shod, slack jawed
we let it slip by.
Now we're just ghosts: reposts
of fuller selves.
Like big boast show boats
with empty sails.
Laundered Poems
By Hesid
Bad Poetry
By Hesid
Post-Industrial Matrimony
By Kevin
Can my culture
survive your negative
work?
Trees fretting over their
branches
scratch at my windows.
“These things you need
to change.”
You befriended my
man in a cage
and he informed on me
with glee.
Insomnia, levitation, strung
up on a hammock of wires.
I would gnaw my arm off
to fit the curve of you.
“Does it matter which side
of the bars you are on?”
he asked wickedly.
You apologized and took
your leave.
The sun is eternally
on the verge of rising
and the trees dump
drifts on to campers.
“That damn Coyote, he knows
what he wants and just
never gives up.”
You wrote down your
bias in the form of a
gangster rap and negotiated
the release of
the hostage.
I lay in comfort and taste
the reciprocity of your fingers
in my food, the kinship of
your warmth in my tea.
I live with you
in this sad entropy of time
I live with youand we two
create a reason for our rhyme.
I hear your voice
across the spaces of our age
I hear your voice
from my choice
of high-tech technicolor cage.
I see your face
on my shiny low gloss screen
I see your face
out of place
framed within the plastic sheen.
I cannot smell
the fragrance of your skin and hair
I cannot smell
and cannot tell
what scent of place and time you wear.
I long to tasteyour lips,
the bouquet of your breath
I long to taste
what's been erased
as sure as by the touch of death.
I live with you
in this sad entropy of time
I live with you
and we two
create a reason for our rhyme...