“IT’S DOLDRUMS”

 

 

I told them all  it’s doldrums

All the 12 months long

I expressed it every xmassy card

I dotted every I  with frowns

I exclaimed it to all these clowns

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I fear it’s been a bear market

But I bet & bet my best/ But I failed to divest

But man, it’s only money

But where  all that woulda got me

On a ticket outa here

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So I told them all  It’s doldrums

I’ve stayed standing in a stagnant river

My luck, my ebb lost it’s suck

& my flow flounders  my Go

I know this new year, I can just know

“I  gotta  blast, bro'”

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Later, near midnight, past my last beer,

Past the traditional tribal Mexican feast

Later, at least near midnight,  past her

Fast asleep,   past  the  year,

I’ll sail to something  I can’t name.

I can get a candle  & focus  on it’s flame.

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(photo:”midnight poetry”/GR MELVIN

That’s How You Sing Amazing Grace

“Those bells’ve been ringing now for years/Someday I’ll give it all away/That’s how you sing Amazing Grace” -LOW, from “Amazing Grace”

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As specified in final arrangements
The kids could only draw near enough
To Temples, & to what resembles Temples,
To take big pictures, big sky country shots,
& pot shots,
For a faraway featuring of folly.
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Go down always face down the hall,
This dawn displays holy sun rays smoke
And on the just rightly out of tune upright bass
My at rest in peace bare-chested Daddy
Just barely jazzin up most all of a
New England Protestant hymnal
Ones his mother, Grace
Sang through softly over & over
Busy at her handiwork as ever

All the solid things I was sold to get

There’s this secret I’ve kept  so discreet
From lovers, & brothers, & mothers.
I’ve mis managed to become  so mum
It was only clearer to me
After self therapy
The other day, or another.
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From this encompassing dream,
I finally wanted
All the solid things I was sold to get,
When it’s important to want one.
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I Get
Silk batik ties, Italian silk shirts,
Dead men’s tweed jackets,
Dry cleaned, & all in the closet.
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I Wait For And Get
Too new Peter & P.J., Gabriel and Harvey,
Unheard of, they’re still in their jacket.
Too new Laurie Anderson, Richard Thompson,
Unheard of, they’re still in their jacket.
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I Waited For & Get a
Big Bio book of Elliott Smith,
and the case is still closed
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I Get
New Yorker’s
Drawings & Captions
All of them (All these years)
Data on disc
unplayed & unsmiled to. (sadly)
I Got
New Yorker’s
Drawings & Captions
The Board Game…
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..
Why I With-hold
All that pleasure,
I haven’t a clue.
It’s half-like half-holding love
At arm’s length,
& watching it do

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.                                                               (FROM 10 YEARS BACK)

DON’T LOOK BACK

humour me
it’s surely not insurmountable
humour me
I concur it’s not as easy as
glossy magazines face-up on coffee tables
it’s what I really want for christmas
it’s what I really want for my wish to go
for when stars shoot, for my pennies deep in a well,
when a haytruck passes–Don’t Look Back! aw hell
I guess it’s a day way more serious
it’s a night  more so

Imaginary Friends, My Readers listen up

Brand new website without all those effin adverts, commercial interruptions,

basically uninvited strangers. distracting us

But You…I re-invite you

So if you are subscribed.. subscribe again!  there’s gotta be a subscribe button somewhere

I’m at   namelessneedblog.com

(just drop the wordpress)

(I think there must be a mailbox there too I’m thinkin)

if you wanna paste me into favorites (where I was before, right?)    I paste easy enough

let me spill my guts for you guys. like Tom Waits sings “Step Right Up!”

far-flung near

far-flung bits thereabouts

are gone as nowhere is

friends who’ve fled, I’ve cared about them

can surface, fish

bubbles, sun-lined,

but stream-lined washing by.

fled friends & lovers come by,

off the map,

if the hour is late enough

for the final nightcap

I guess there’s a blur there on

my best point-of-vistas

that insists

that remnants that wear on

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Imaginary Friends, My Readers listen up
December 7, 2018
Brand new website without all those effin adverts, commercial interruptions,
basically uninvited strangers. distracting us
But You…I re-invite you
So if you are subscribed.. subscribe again! there’s gotta be a subscribe button somewhere
namelessneedblog.com
(just drop the wordpress)
(I think there must be a mailbox there too I’m thinkin)
if you wanna paste me into favorites (where I was before, right?) I paste easy enough
let me spill my guts for you guys. like Tom Waits sings “Step Right Up!”

A Fond, Old Faraway Room

“Anyone who falls in love is searching for the missing pieces of themselves. So anyone who’s in love gets sad when they think of their lovers. It’s like stepping back inside a room you have fond memories of. One you haven’t seen in a long time…”
“.. A fond, old, faraway room?”
“Exactly.”
-from “Kafka On The Shore”, Hanuki Murakami
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We mind that there mustn’t be dust
On those closed blinds.
Behind those blinds,
We find us.
We find ourselves salving
Our sore selves,
Saving us so
Fleetingly. So Pretend-Completely.
And after each chapter,
Which does us delirious,
It can be meant as some payment,
It can serve to defray cost
It can’t save us, when in a night and a day,
without fail, We will derail.
Alone, All memories lost

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“I choose the rooms that I live in with care,
the windows are small and the walls almost bare,
there’s only one bed and there’s only one prayer;
I listen all night for your step on the stair”
-Leonard Cohen,RIP,/ from “Tonight Will be Fine”
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(from a hundred years back)

W E A R S / A G A I N S T / M I D / A I R

My uneasy manner may wear
Against a midnight and on
Persistent are
Green bottle shards

again & again
Against a reef

a Lighthouse
over sees

yet overlooks

faithful

Mostly most of my lovers I’ve let go  & still know

I’m  faithful.

Y’know, belittling me..(so I’m blanketing you with talk?)

Go shut down your psychic powers

I’ve just put in twelve hours

At the hospital reteaching my much better half how to walk.

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She fell off her horse in a storm.

Lightening spooked both of them  the same time.

The dumb animal stood by her/  in all the wet.

It might have bolted/  the thunder said “Go!”

The Wild  and men are meant to just go.

I’ve pity, not hatred

Alive but domesticated, caught in its net

 

 

A C R O B A T S

A bet about how acrobats practice

With out the bright side of a doubt

Would bring winnings, not giving a thought

To those monkeys unable to practice

Symmetry, nor knowing  sincerely knowing

How’s the flow going

Then there’s daring  dark  chance

Annexing the knack for balance.

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“What kinda trapeze thing is going on back there?”