Thursday, January 16, 2020

I was offensive 

Insensitive 

Uncaring 

Unwilling to see his point of view 

Demanding he do what I do. 

Reminds me of you know who. 

****

So angry 

No wonder. 

I tear myself asunder. 

Well 

That’s sure a blunder. 

***

Wednesday, January 15, 2020

****

It’s mouth 

Is open 

It is hungry. 

I go in a different and safer direction. 

****

I’m moving in the right direction. 

Appropriate selection. 

Sounds good. 

To be in the right neighborhood 

I  finally... understood.

****

I like to get drunk.

A little drunk. 

And no: 

I’m not a punk. 

Dad

Why had you had to say that?

It’s stuck with me 

Endlessly!

+****

My understanding is okay. 

So what’re the next steps?

A sense of humor?

Self control?

Self respect?

Focus on my work.  

Ah!

And aha!

I’ll take a double. 

A double take 

Not double trouble. 

Yes of course 

We’re heading into a bubble. 

****

So, I accept the fact

That my act

Alienated by way of my lack of tact. 

Arrogance, grandiosity 

Weren’t enough to bring me down. 

I had to be the class clown. 

Add a vanishing pint 

Of pointed lack of confidence

Increased incompetence 

All led to internal thoughts unwanted of violence. 

***

No wonder people couldn’t stand me!

I myself

Had to frequently 

Sit 

Down. 

****

That’s past. 

Mostly. 

****

What a burden!

I’m still hurting. 

****

Rather than come down hard on myself 

For being arrogant and grandiose 

I’ll toast my happy enjoyment 

Of what I’m meant to do 

Meant to be 

And be free of guilt for not being 

The great being who could not come into being. 

****

My grandiosity says 

I need to be more and better than I am 

And when I get there 

I’ll move the goalposts. 

***

I enjoy my hobbies at the level where I am. 

They are all solitary. 

As for activities to share 

I feel threatened

By people... beware!

Maybe I’d feel more confident 

If I were as rich as the king of Siam. 

****

So what do I want to discuss today?

Beth 

Increased fleeting thoughts of self-harm. 

Dream 

Lisa, Chantal 

Massages 

Drinking 

****

I want to bring a dream to group. 

I want to show off. 

I want to be the star. 

A far cry 

For me to deny

They said 

There’s more interest in exploration 

And connection with other group members

Chantal and Lisa have a sadness 

And ways of keeping themselves weak. 

Patrick, I  happy to hear is going for more help. 

Michael opened up after close of session. 

Simon is more focused. 

Deb is happier and more consistently gentle and friendly. 

Me?

Still uptight

But lighter Deb says. 

In that last session I wanted to be a leader 

No need to be Pres. Just more present into to be a better people reader. 

A purple people reader is fine 

Just stop being a porcupine. 

****

My increased images

The most fleeting of thoughts 

Of self harm 

Do not overly alarm. 

Something must have triggered these. 

Please parse 

A little drinking

A few more massages 

Less than other times. 

Is it worry over Danny?

Is it inability to tolerate improvements with Beth, composing, trading?

Is it simply a by-product of physical pain?

That sounds right. 

Now I can be a quantum more light. 

***

A little more meditation couldn’t hurt. 

Same for more walks

More people contact 

Service 

Same old suggestions 

I am hurting in a way undefinable 

No denying I’m able 

To set myself straight 

No need to wait 

Add a sprinkle of a sprightly, spring lilt to my gait. 

****

Tuesday, January 14. 2020

Beth and I are more relaxed together

As more storms we weather. 

I feel it more in bed. 

She lets me message her back

Not her head. 

****

My Symphony Six 

Plays tricks 

Fixes itself 

Forming a new style

More expressive 

More variety 

Lighter, darker, deeper 

More narrative 

More satisfying 

And as the case may be 

The narrative

However contemplative 

Not comparative 

Might occasionally be

A little ablative. 

****

My idea of lazy 

Is kind of crazy. 

I’m more productive now 

At this slower pace 

Than when I raced. 

***

I grow stale 

When I lash myself to the pursuit 

of the holy grail. 

***

Jail is where you mail it. 

The male disease of too little self-control 

Even or especially as I get old. 

Snail mail, email, voicemail, car fax fox 

The toxicity of publicity 

For me is the antithesis of synchronicity. 

Simplicity in all things 

Brings a hail of good tidings to many. 

For me

Sometimes simple 

Sometimes not 

As is called for by days exciting or drab. 

Hail a cab, 

Sail slowly in the sea

Swinging back and forth 

Ave the foamy froth 

In the backpack of a 🐌 calm and free. 

Walk, run or crawl but not ever at all over hot coals. 

The first goal 

Get out into the swirl of life 

Rife with ripening opportunity

For me and thee. 

Be not so much king, prince or earl 

Rather like an earlier me 

Keeping head cool

In the school out of school

In a church, mosque, temple on the street 

Or in a schul. 

***

Another good day 

Is that why I am dismayed?

More tolerance for happiness 

It’s ok to deserve bliss even a little kiss. 

****

Awoke in a funk. 

Same old junk.

What caused this relapse?

Not enough naps?

****

I’m obsessed 

Possessed 

Yet something good coalesced 

***

No poems yesterday. 

I awoke angry. 

Intrusive thoughts were back

A fresh attack these thoughts 

With no expiration date as a matter of fact 

These thoughts were as fresh and upsetting 

As if from the rack of masochistic stuff 

Bought in a huff at the back 

Of the basement at Filene’s 

Meaner off Nordstrom’s rack

These thoughts were not bought. 

I made them all by myself. 

Gee, how great is that? 

***

Henny Youngman had his violin. 

Some of my kith and kin 

Have Nikons, others Nikes

New normal 

One third less formal. 

Yes Henny, a star of comedy central’s past 

Henny with plenty of stage presence 

A twinkle in his non- malevolent though a bit tense 

To a solid steady career held fast 

From whence a generation of comics were inspired 

That Youngman inspires at long last 

A lighter older man, Kenny 

Not with fiddle, Nikon, Nike’s nor violin 

Neither with Jack nor Bennett 

Not spending a penny with Benny

But the quintessential instrumental 

To make young girls swoon 

Which I used to play morning, evening

Even at noon. 

Overhauled, no longer musty

Not a bit dusty

And none too soon 

Of course it’s my trusty old bassoon. 

****

Be more consistently mindful 

When I’m kind 

Full of compassion for myself 

I get out of the house, off the shelf 

And lo and behold 

I’m told good things 

Good news replacing my well-worn blue suede shoes. 

****

I’m so tired. 

A unit too many 

Did old Kenny 

Take to correct. 

My logic 

My thinking was thorough 

But off.  

Why worse decisions even with Zoloft?

It’s not a magic pill 

Still it’s help a lot 

Got to work harder on the psychological

A good, helpful combination I’ve got. 

***

Sunday, January 12, 2020

Kay is a perfect person with whom to play. 

Vacation message

At this stage 

All is not about microphones of a microphage. 

***

Her name is neither Roxanne nor Mandy. 

Her nipples are rock candy. 

I’m a happy to see 

Ima, smart, brave, sexy. 

***

Wine, women and song

I’ll be dead before long. 

****

Carpe diem 

Enjoy the day 

Carpe diem

What the hay!

Carpet diet- don’t try it. 

Carpe diem:

Beth’s happinesses- she’s finding her own ways to free ‘em. 

****

Beth is somewhat stoic, ascetic 

Also quite peripatetic. 

***

Beth’s way isn’t necessarily mine. 

I’m not spending her money. 

My honey and I overlap 

together we fit like a pod of peas snapping. 

***

Beth is smart, disciplined, inspiring 

My retiring 

From different sources springing

singing my own long lost loving 🥰 giving. 

****

Beth chose to meditate in the living room. 

She has done this recently. 

It feels good to me that she hides less in the bedroom. 

Non too soon. 

Though I have wandered. 

I still Beth cherish and honor. 

****

I’ve not been mindful of BG or diet 

No, it’s not a funny. 

It’s not a riot. 

Though I don’t buy it 

Not that I’ve tried it. 

What is this?

An avoidance of course. 

Swedish or Norse?

Nursing a grudge which simply won’t budge. 

I had unwanted thoughts including violent flashes 

Unabashed I un-lashed my stash

Girded my guarded loins 

Alright already!

Hold steady. 

I traced my unwanted nightmarish fleeting daydream-lets to being hard on myself. 

In the unreasonable sort of way. 

Was envious of others much better investing skills and performance. 

Self-hate which had been recently dormant 

As soon as I became aware 

I was able to give better self-care. 

So there!

***

My first poem of the day. 

Hey

While it may have been a prior priority 

My sisters’ sororities had she belonged to any 

Couldn’t have cared a whit 

Not one little bit. 

****

Thursday, January 9, 2020

Ima is a person of courage and beauty 

A young married, mother in a foreign country 

Self confident, poised. 

Intelligent 

Well-put-together 

Clean 

Smells nice 

Gentle 

Affectionate 

Passionate 

What the fuck?!

***

I feel now the second beer. 

Steer clear of regrets and 

Lipstick smears. 

****

A poem for Jesse

Make it clean, neat neither regressed nor messy. 

Bless he, Gesundheit

Nothing to sneeze at 

Right off the bat:

My friend is fascinated by the Irishman 

Jimmy Hoffa

The man from the AFL-CIO clannish clan. 

His suspicion is if not for his assassination

He would have gotten the presidential nomination. 

His station would have risen but his mob ties came home to roost 

Giving his career no boost 

Instead a lethal kick in the caboose. 

It was a slowly tightening noose. 

He was a smart, respected guy. 

Why did he not see the abyss

The quicksand 

That so much was amiss 

Unfixable by the best fixer 

The kiss of death on both cherished cheeks 

Cost him his life 

his wife it cost her husband 

His children their father. 

Are we not capable of thinking into the future a little bit farther?

***

I stayed up half the night. 

Only half?

Well more like till past four. 

Comprised of composing no score 

Rather a score of poems 

At my home sweet home 

It’s now past five 

Passing six 

Feeling nauseated by self-imposed over-thinking counterproductive blood sugar tricks...

Time for breakfast. 

***

If mutual distrust 

Is sure to end in worse than disgust 

And this historical pattern 

Is found everywhere from nightfall to Matin 

Maybe even on Jupiter, Mars and Saturn 

Saturnine gloomy 

Would it not be less contumely 

To now learn to earn a different path?

Ask one of the many Sylvia McGraths. 

Better yet, in the dark take nice warm baths. 

****

A doggerel needs a special kind of pound I found 

Not meant for just any old unjust Hobbesian hound. 

In other words

Snap out of the Hobbesian trap. 

***

I go to forty second street. 

It’s too dirty there. 

Yes, I do care. 

I go to thirty fourth 

South not north. 

Alluring till I think of the filth 

The entrapment of the ladies there working 

They ain’t soda jerking. 

Passing through flatiron 

There are tons of parlors 

Upstairs and in Korea-town 

Ladies with undergarments or translucent gowns 

Not for me these treats 

Hightailing in retreat 

Closer to my own neighborhood 

It’s clear none of this trolling is any good 

I misunderstood my needs

My wife, my life to some extent 

Hell-bent to the dentist I went. 

Huh? 

Ok. 

This wordplay 

A mainstay of my health mental 

As surely as floss for the dental. 

No need to rent a tent or room 

The gloom lifts as surely as life for the next generation after the ancestors tomb 

Oh why again so dark?

So, seriously

Light a tiny little sparkling spark. 

The interplay of lively life after Noah’s arc 

Hark hear neither herrings red 

Nor senseless calamities put to bed 

Instead enjoy what can be enjoyed 

Love those who want my love 

Teach those who want my teaching 

Stop preaching 

Beseeching and most certainly 

Stop screeching!

****

What I want can’t be found. 

So 

Can I now stop looking around?

***

Look instead inside. 

Oh that you’ve already tried. 

Try it more 

More calmly 

More compassionately mindful. 

Yes ira is onto something 

A clear focus 

Easing up on myself 

Yeah and hear ye that is the locus. 

Will yield a wealth to be 

shared 

With those dear to me. 

What I want can’t be found without. 

A blowout idea 

Without connecting to others I live in 

A sullied tower of dirtied ivory. 

Connivery can I end on the mend with a bit of hope and joy?

Why not my dear boyish non-goy boy. 

****

Hypoomanic

Insomnia tickles my ticking clicking 

Sure thing: harness the entertaining energy

That’s the way to trick it. 

Ah, that’s the ticket.

****

I want 

I want and for a charge of pace 

I crave. 

This will lead to an early graven image on my gray tombstone grave. 

Not historical 

Or even hysterically funny 

It’s a sunnier approach to my craving 

Rather than punishing myself for my

Wayward, raging, lunatic cravings many. 

Plenty do I detect a little holier than thousands of unkept vows?

I am not a bit better. 

This is who I am. 

Where I go 

Where I stay 

I am grateful to be creatively alive 

No tributes or rave reviews sway 

Not even slightly delay

No longer satisfied to hide in caves 

No way to think or behave. 

Like a gentleman at an ungentlemanly public  club 

I snub true feeling 

My life literally really reeling 

In spoiled spools 

Insufficiently schooled 

In the school of hard knocks

Has unblocked my writers blocks. 

Gee that was a surprise.

Where’d that unexpected twist come from?

Sure changes my mood from glum 

To as peachy as a bunch of summer plums. 

*****

Since being too often, too hard on myself is the problem 

A result of which many difficulties stem 

Including self-directed angry rage 😡 😤 😠 

Transformed unwittingly, unconsciously as a way to reduce the internal pressure

Those flashes of intrusive violent cognitions

No longer dashes my hopes and dreams 

As it seems my compassion arising from 

contrition spawns contributions to eruditions enlightening understanding of this ego-dystonic condition 

Namely: notice when overly demanding and angry at me 

Since, in the past and currently, contemporaneously 

I often don’t see. 

So in all fairness 

Cultivate more mindful awareness.  

****

BG is one twenty five. 

Pretty good 

Stable to the extent I’m able. 

In retrospect 

It was going down. 

Did I not suspect?

****

Almost time for breakfast 

A night soon to be over at long last. 

True, I’ve had fun writing 

Looking at photos 

Day dreaming mantras 

****

I want to go here. 

I want to go there. 

I want to look at women and stare. 

****

Four forty five

I’ve sleep barely ten thousand winks. 

More like wink-lets 

I bet I’m not the only one 

To have this not very joyous bit of unfunny glum insomniac fun. 

***

I am out of my mind 

With delusional dreams of love that can be bought without getting caught

In intractable addiction 

My predilection for sweets

Inserts itself unseating

More savory ways replete 

with sustainability unlike 

vodka shots neat. 

****

Ira and I both think 

My intrusive thoughts 

Especially the violent ones 

Though fleeting 

are caused by self-beating. 

****

Why so wired?

Can I have compassion for being overly tired?

*****

Can’t sleep. 

Not in trouble deep. 

So why?

Can’t deny effects of caffeine. 

Neither does Booze 

Doesn’t help me snooze. 

Wednesday, January 8, 2020

Though it’s clear to many 

That dumpf celebrates the 

Equivalent of the stopping of hitting himself in the face with his abrupt about faces 

Leaving no traces of decency, dignity, perspicacity

least of all compassion 

Such is the way he has fashioned his base 

To group-think endless conspiracy theories 

Buying into big and still bigger big lies

Unfortunately this is no mystery. 

****

My son acted unhinged last night. 

A plight which I formerly enacted 

Contracted as I fell into my innermost hell. 

Recognizing it only too well

Seeing it in another, this unplugged, unfiltered, unhappy sight 

I had no fright that other night 

Perhaps the meditation and meds 

and all the et ceteras 

Have made me a little better a 

Bit, but now that I’m less of a nut 

I see my loving and beloved lieber Sohn 

With love and compassion even when he’s momentarily undone. 

Though temporarily unhinged 

(And he might not have binged)

I see he needs more help. 

Even if he otherwise sometimes doth dutifully yelp . 

More meds probably 

A therapist he can trust

journal writing, yoga, meditation, 

More exercise

other kinds of relaxation...

Other than drink, I think

On the brink of this post-tantrum writing of our internal phantoms annoyed 

Perhaps slightly paranoid

Which can make us avoid 

People and things we enjoyed. 

I like his idea of resuming photography on the weekends 

Speak then of what is needed. 

He’ll heed his own inner council. 

Better sooner than latent anger 

Less doors being banged in the city 

For that matter wherever he travels 

Be it Bangor, Bangalore, Singapore 

Or just next door 

There are glorious cornucopias galore 

Some available at the pharmacy store. 

All or some of these

If you so please 

Will tease out the trouble 

Which is probably a chemical imbalance 

Though other factors have significant valence help him get less bent out of shape

As he continues to grow, heal and self-mend

He will to his well-being increasingly, consistently, diligently attend. 

****

Tuesday, January 7, 2020

I am the gorilla pacing back and forth. 

The gorilla going simply 

South to north. 

Easy to East 

Easy to eat bananas and coconuts

No ifs and or buttressing 

Massive missives. 

Many more monstrous, impulsive esoteric eating

Deleting caramel candy ice cream 

Riding in coach 

Pop smoking camels

last straw cussing. 

Fussing over diet of 

Stems, a few bamboo 

Shoots, other nuts, grains and fruits. 

Grains?

Well I’m a macrobiotic gorilla. 

I get my fill a food. 

It’s pretty good though 

A little more variety in the venue would be nice.

The spice of life, lemons, men and mice 

Thought through it thrice. 

Also demons 

And demonic 

Humans, my cousins in the ape family tree

Walk free

My bad luck being stuck behind bars. 

I crashed no cars

Did no drugs

No inappropriate hugs— 

I do submit:

What crime did I commit?

Committed to lifetime showmanship. 

If you can call it that. 

Batty in that fruit bat house 

Far from exhibits of a luxurious louse

In this city zoo 

True no call of the wild

Dialed my old rotary phone 

I’m prone 

To be derailed. 

Left a vacation voicemail

(Not one detail.)

Saying “I’d like to be left alone.”

Stone cold truth:

No sleuthing, forsooth:

The company of another few gorillas 

Would fill a the bill, uh...

Used to say 

Like to be left alone more. 

Time to pay that bill from online stores. 

Of course, want more out of life 

Not a little but a lot more. 

How trite is that?

Cat got your tungsten tongue in a bright old-fashioned light bulb 

Dimmer than some 

Come, now come weren’t your fulfilled at Dulles and in gullies guiding gulls high above another sniggering brother for 

For sure

Said “you betcha,”

That pretty nouveau-rich pretty peachy Republican pol from Alaska. 

Not that I asked her. 

So said and spoke the bespoke, well-tailored gorilla whose course he himself set straight. 

With help from fate?

Puzzle pieces coming together better sooner than late

Said the no-longer tortured gorilla  from the north. 

Just before peacefully resting his rejuvenated head as he deliciously to well-deserved rest in his comfortable bed. 

I am the gorilla

Who thank goodness 

Gained more than a scintilla 

Of humility, calming my inner beast 

Exotic and Pavlovian plain vanilla. 

****

What do I want?

Sleep 

Sex

Composing. 

Make money 

Work towards world peace. 

****

Difficult times breed 

Great men and women. 

These difficult times see 

Me becoming more calm 

Self-assured. 

Zoloft 

Humility. 

Confidence in my own judgement 

Letting go of perfectionistic 

Expectations 

****

West Beth 

East Beth

South Beth 

North. 

My North Star 

Is the star 

Of Stern’s 

Office of the Registrar

Monday, January 6, 2020

Here I am wherever I go. 

Don’t need a geographical solution 

Because there’s no problem.

Oh. 

This is new.

This is different. 

No problems you say?

What about...

Forget it. 

What about that and this?

Surely something must be amiss. 

Kiss it goodbye. 

So your trying has success?

Bless my no longer weary

No longer tarrying testy teatro San Marco 

Histrionic teary soul. 

The truly important goal has been there all along in young tones and times old. 

****

It’s been a while since my trading accounts dropped into a pile 

Even on Friday when my stocks sank 

My bands, metals changed this when all told it was golden gold. 

Today maybe more of the same. 

I overbought, arrogantly on dips

Hoping to flip 

But it flopped. 

Stop licking my wounds 

Get on with my day. 

Appreciate my businessman’s hedge 

Keeping me safer off the precipice 

Far from the ledger of panic 

Yes, oh yes I’m not happy 

But it’s sappy to think I’ll always do the wise thing. 

Has a familiar ring?

So while I goofed 

I’m still at an all-time high. 

It will be interesting to see if tonight’s band report shows I’m still a smart profitable guy. 

Wait!

Hey!

Either way it’s ok. 

Just see what’s there 

The path will reveal itself 

So a little bit less care. 

****

It is true my negativity 

Is always there.  

Deb helped me of this become of aware of this act. 

At first I was defensive about this fact. 

After a while, defensiveness insisting on redacting my painful acting out in response to 

Running its subterranean course

This well-rehearsed curse, no worse than many others problems 

(Probably)

Furnishes a stream of energy. 

Burnishes other gifts 

Lifts, no longer adrift in muddy sod. 

Odd. 

I wonder if it were replaced by the god of positivity or mindfulness would I still be me?

So while it’s been a while since my trading accounts dropped into a pile 

My attitude is no longer glued to equating self-worth with portfolio wealth and 

This whole thing far from riling or raking myself over the colas 

I sprightly morning, noon and nightly quite politely file this episode into a smile. 

****

Miserly king Miser the One Third had his lurid day on Popeye

Why shouldn’t there be tons of other humor-writhing guys?

Sounds twisted in pain

Writhe a little 

has a sting redolent of selfishness

****

My talents rot on the vine. 

Old whine. 

My talents rotted

Besotted with drink 

I think my thoughts 

Drunk on bunk. 

My talents certainly not all

Rotted 

Some begot, fed, nurtured, grew 

into something unexpectedly delightful 

Each moment revealed itself anew, insightful. 

*****

Sunday, January 5, 2020

It is amazing how group on the very first night

Opened the flood gates of my creativity 

Which had been sorely blocked 

As if in dangerous port docked. 

More like a sock the bell of my sax

Whose reefs have gone slack 

With the lack of practice or connection

To making the sounds myself

I write in my head

And on the PC 

I’ve got more of a knack 

Finale on the Mac. 

**** 

I am slow 

Except when blinding fast. 

At last I see this dichotomy 

It’s simply me. 

***

Hey, what do you know?!

Good day to show:

Back is better 

thanks to exercise 

10 minute massage 

Walking 

A day and a half away from computer. 

Good editing on movement three 

True, five hours more than planned. 

I’m hitting the sack. 

Or trying to 

For my nighttime knack 

Second wind 

Second woodwinds 

Second flute, oboe, clarinet, bassoon 

A quartet of second chair

Lifts in a Swiss Chalet 

Ok 

Get up and back 

To see if I’ve set my back back. 

Saturday, January 4, 2020

I admire Beth’s self-discipline. 

Do I want to develop that too?

He who trust himself 

Knows how to live. 

****

What is my central issue?

Unwrap the tissue 

Paper it’s not in the Times of London 

Is it

OCD

Ingrained negative self-talk

Impatience 

Lack of self control 

Lack of ability to get along with others

Defensiveness 

Fear 

Lack of skills 

Lock of desire 

Insufficient focus 

Or am I missing the pint entirely?

Fer Pete’s sake and crying out loud 

Get a stout at Irish Pub nearby. 

****

I feel supported by all but one of the group. 

My cognitive distortion directs me to focus on that one shred of barely discernible tension. 

I was going to mention it is hostility 

But that might just be my invention. 

***

Justice and jurisprudence 

To judge wisely. 

Surmise 

Suppose

Fungus grows in Brooklyn 

Hook line and a drinker stunk drunk 

Traveling from Ossining and Armonk 

No bunk 

Bed is needed 

Just a short stop over 

A lay away with 

A woke, awakened Grover. 

***

The black fruit 

Sounds mysterious 

Cute

Sexy 

Perhaps evil 

A still for storyline doth grow. 

But oh. 

It reveals itself soon....

Ha!

Just a prune. 

****

Such as it is

Son is still up. 

So am I. 

Why try to be something I’m not?

Got talent?

Earn a dime. 

****

My mind and probably everyone else’s 

Works non-stop. 

Cop a feel. 

Drop a banana peel. 

Emma Peele was an early crush. 

Still get a rush from seeing her smile. 

Her slinky, extraordinarily sexy figure in her skin-tight costume. 

At that tender age never thought about her bush. 

**^*

Another sleepless night. 

Coffee, booze

Lots of food 

Although plenty good 

Don’t help me snooze. 

****

Friday, January 3, 2020

My accounts are all up. 

I beat the S & P 

Again 

I focus on errors I make with stocks and with women and men. 

Oh, Ken. 

****

Doesn’t matter whether this person or that 

Had a mass of mad hatters hooting hooray tit for tat, rat a tat tat. 

I’m next at bat. 

Anxiety doth arise. 

No surprise. 

Fact of the matter 

That 

I have this feeling of inadequacy 

Obvious from whence it came. 

No more insight is needed. 

Just change my game. 

****

So much feeling 

Has this session with friends 

Common road travelers unleashed 

No longer beached as a whistleblower’s whale 

Whose tail is stuck even though in good shape 

On sticky immovable shiitake shellacked  shale. 

Hail a cab. 

Sleep it off. 

I’m retired so why so wired?

**** 

It has been unfair to Beth how crazy I’ve been 

And still am to some degree. 

Please forgive me. 

You already have.

Do I deserve this leniency?

***

Beth never throws anything away. 

Otherwise I’d be fair game in play 

For rats and mice 

And many other things even less less nice. 

****

What would I prefer?

To further defer

Gratification 

My life has sufficient elation 

Occasionally libation

Daily avoidance and procrastination. 

****

Despite all my negative self talk

I don’t balk at hitting it out of ballparks

Once on a while 

True that my voluminous bile

Rules 

Riling those around 

Is this rouse still true?

****

Habitual thoughts more than a few 

Grew to monstrous proportions. 

Extensions of self-extortion 

With no ransom 

An ever moving away goal post gold. 

At most or at least 

This beast in my breast pocket 

I see it afore I’m too old. 

****

Stark or subtle 

I paint with brief stricken strokes 

Striking a vein in the fine, gone cold gold mine 

I left for what I thought was all time 

Resuscitations of my long forgotten buried self left to fester and rot decades behind

I find not so rotten 

Not exactly benign

Repairs begin 

Into air thin 

Despair replaced by a half smiling, internal grin. 

Being hopeful 

I dare to care 

No longer giving up. 

Up, up and maybe not away

But definitely here to flourish and stay. 

****

So much feeling this group evokes. 

Provoking laughter, tears

A loosening of my fetal, clenching body posture

Lightening my burden of past years. 

****

Do I need coffee or sleep?

Deep 

A dream or two might be informative

Are there rules?

We’re not in school 

We’re adults 

The results 

We’ll take responsibility for 

As soon as we exit the revolving door. 

🏩****

My poetry may be 

A little more spontaneous 

Than the me you see.  

***

I’m an older man.  

Who am I kidding but me. 

To be delusional 

Feeling so free. 

****

Desensitize myself from the abyss 

I feel when things go amiss. 

****

Good to be drunk once in a while 

Improves my style. 

****

A wall 

A pall  

A funereal cover 

Converting 

Into a cloud 

For crying out loud. 

Be not proud. 

I am not a Prius 

Toyota 

Bystanders in Bogota 

Colombiano 

Cafe 

Befriend 

A beautiful negra 

I grow tired 

Of the same old same old 

Grow instead bold 

Let the slime mold wort of worthless worthlessness dry out

Heal the hour of gout 

Try out a different reality 

Based in fact 

No longer in self-fulfilling 

Prophetic self-willing for bottom billing. 

****

Not uptight. 

Put up a wall. 

For all to see 

Be with Beth. 

****

sad, angry

Wanting Danny to save me. 

As dad did to me. 

Get out of my selfish, intergenerational counterproductive tree. 

Ah, 

I see. 

****

Do I fear?

I do. 

I fear specifically losing myself 

Terrifically.

Completely. 

*****

I’m here tonight to write. 

Get it off my chest. 

Invest in myself. 

Michael has the same thought 

I bought into it as a child  

I am the problem. 

Deb doesn’t see the angry teacher

The semi-fuck up. 

Lisa’s sees the wall I put up. 

Ira, I told I felt defensive 

Now more pensive. 

***

How to stop 🛑 ✋ 

The endless negative thoughts

Is probably the key 

To stopping the intrusive violent thoughts 

Compassionate self-care. 

Where oh where?

Certainly not in an affair. 

January 2, 2020

Twenty Twenty 

Will there be clear sighted vision aplenty?

Will the will of the populists destroy democracy

Replace it with more kleptocracy

Tinged with insincere theocracy

Endless sadistic hostile hypocrisy

Repeating big lies 

Defaming truth and honor

Until our nation is a goner?

Can the Russian damage hardly collateral be cancelled, undone by those who have not yet won the flag planted on top of a glorious mountain, pure, clear Alpine ice water cascading under icy blue, sun filled mountain air 

Green 

Buds 

Birds rushing 

Colors red, vibrant blues, purples, orange and green 

Thrushes sing the bushes and trees bearing scrumptious fruit

And all good things 

We are a little more aware 

We partake of the good and growing there. 

We no longer struggle or stare 

Caring, compassionate action springs spontaneously from fountains of youth 

In truth always hidden behind our blind over-thinking 

Overactive mind 

Waters stilled in the small pleasantly cool pool accompanied by wooden windmills

Making flower for our daily bread

Even if not at the head of the table 

We are able. 

****

plateau’s landing 

Command focused, effortless attention

Aware of our senses 

Our surroundings 

New and always new groundings. 

****

Buddhists see thoughts as clouds passing in the sky. 

Why not see unwanted mental debris as a natural waste product of thought?

This perspective reduces to practically nothing my anxiety about having these thoughts

Which by the way are falling away 

A virtuous cycle. 

The Ken I knew as a competent 

Responsible achiever

Has returned seasoned by years of 

Fears and Fuxian counterpoint 

Anoint mine head with a warm clean towel 

Dowel holding together structured junctures of junk making junk-aide. 

Played for all its worth

Enjoyed in laughter and tears of mirth. 

Sima did see the happy composer I would be. 

I’ll give her that. 

Can I forgive myself for misunderstanding her

And dad and in my slight to moderate paranoia?

Most other folks too, even LaToya. 

I couldn’t communicate. 

I ate my words 

Held my tongue at the wrong times. 

Spoke when better council would have keep me on the side lines. 

Seen as a natural waste product of thought

ought to be updated as follows:

My unwanted thoughts pass more quickly than clouds. 

They are black thin, long weeds in my garden 

Easy to weed out these weeds

An almost effortless deed to weed out these unwanted weeds. 

Just a relaxation around my eyes and jaw 

Naw. Maybe there’s a little bit more pulling in my gut, noticing how the next several breaths change my posture also without effort. 

This mastery is no mystery 

Just a synthesis of all I have studied and done. 

So life has begun 

Again where it left off 

Thanks to Ira and 

Zoloft, all the years meditating. 

Therapy 

Journal writing. 

Yoga

Language and musical study 

Not to mention exercise 

All help exorcise my shrinking demons 

Stinking less

Shrinking more 

Thanks to a more stable 

Corporal and emotional bell curving 

Less swerving still some 

No longer making me glum.

Joy in a quiet sort of way 

Ira helped me see 

I’m a pretty good trader and investor 

Over the years. 

This gives me a floor on which to stand 

As I assemble my orchestral band from the land of lost souls relieved of their contrition.  

An element of metacognition 

In my current rendition of my condition

Such is my sound well-founded opinion 

Unlike an up in the head unfeeling suspicion. 

So in this new useful year

Get my confidence from today’s 

Achievements 

Beth and BG and trading for free 

I can earn more 

I’ll start by noticing contact between my feet at the floor.