Make it stand out.

riday, November 8, 2019***Though envy rears it’s unhelpful head I’m glad it didn’t keep me at home in bed. ****When people are angry with me I cognitively distort quite freely Hating myself more than disdain from my cohort. Boy do I hate that word. Hate is bad.Love is good. What is it I misunderstood?****It strikes me as funny-oddThat ira did not ask why I grew a beard like a bard. Not hard to see meaning here. He’s not perfect to be perfectly honest Then again no one is. That’s perfectly clear. Steer clear of weary words. So why did I grow my beard back?No longer blackI seem even older. Some give me a cold shoulder. I’m experimenting with reinventing. A Russian emigre?No way. A Bulgarian bridge builder?Gilda reincarnate?She is remembered as great. I’m tired of the beard. It’ll go after Thanksgiving That should dissipate any Moscow misgivings. ***I could go to a pharmacy Not to be alarming me. Surely it’s common for folks to forget a pillStill, why take a chance.***Not getting sidetracked by Beth’s rightful criticism Gave me the get up and go going gung ho gismCausing a schism With whom?Why self consciousness when words bloom vulgar?Not in the Pope’s vulgate Nor in a scandal near the VolgaThat would be Volga-gate. I hate to get sidetracked But that’s where I started Having outsmarted defensive preconditioning thanks to sertraline  I mean it’s all in good fun in the course of the  way Of verbal horseplay. ****I forgot my med. instead I’m already nervous with compulsion. Revulsion at my... dot, dot, dotAnd what have not. Composing brings me joy also A dangerous alloy, allied with Destroying equilibrium Of my cerebellum You can tell... um Though my cup doth runneth over the brim. Wednesday, November 6, 2029I’m so angry Why?Because I’m sick and tired of tryingNot that I have any intention of dying Anywhere in the near future. I make that perfectly clear. Steer away from indulging Especially when my eyeballs are bulging. ****Maybe my anger Has to do with excess energyWhich surges when I compose, write Trade and sometimes when I exercise. If I can learn to be a little wise I surmise the world or some part of it with people in need could use a man with god speed. ****I can be vulgar. I’m also starving Not for food or affection Or a homeBut for something which is supposed to Come naturally No rhyme this time?Maybe try the rhythm system. That would be fine. ***I want I craveA fix for my horny old prick. 

Tuesday, November 5, 2029I waited for reviews with breath bated. I was elatedTill someone said it was dated. Though dated I’m  nicely satisfied and sated. Newer is not necessarily art. Speaking heart to heartFor a start, take a newer sewer which could be good but not something of which I’m artistically a part. Quite true, even truer that bit about the newer sewer. I’m happy more consistently for the first timeIf only I had had the humility To work with a psychiatrist Long before a wall met my angry fist. (Fist rhymes with psychiatrist.)Well you get the gist. So though datedReverential of my heroes So goes this symphony, what I’ve happily created. ****We recently talked of sewersNewer sewers in fact. In fact, quite tactfully about the news that newer sewers are covered by fewer reviewers. In fact they are covered by a manhole cover. For preventing gay lovers. Monday, November 4, 2029*****Violent thoughts still arise. Though they comprise a smaller part than my art That they still arise should be no surprise. You expected I’d be cured so fastAt last I’ve got the life I want so what’s the problem?Got milk?No it’s of a different ilk. Anger, Impatience?Certainly Bennett Cerf, a founder of Random House was a highly literate punster, respected by dad. Dead is dad, it’s too bad he couldn’t see my success. I digress, but happily soLess so nervousness in the company of others leading to compulsive talk. I balk at delving too deeply here. What is it I fear?Not entirely clear. Something to do with a career. If only I could be less afraid of people. My relationship with Ira is both fraught with tensionAnd now that you mention He’s helped me a lot (I could still try pot.)Not that you mention the possibility of becoming more appropriately assertive. This is the direction on which I have been moving, grooving to an old original beat these lines suddenly begin to lift my plodding feet and my mood to boot.***Get up. Get out. Don’t shout. Laundry can wait till after Beth showers. I want to wash her robe. Actually she likes to have it cleaned. I feel somehow reduced and demeaned. ****Constrained. Too much have I complained. Help myself. First drop the anger and disgust. This is a must. ****So tiredMired in fatigue No, I’ve not listened to Grieg. Cheryl Tiegs when young was a gorgeous girl next door. I want to look at pics of chicks galore to delight my slick quick wit. Feeling obsessive and slightly sick about composing Imposing my will will change things untilDesire arises. ***What does compassion now say?Get into the fray. Start my day. ****All I want to do is sleep. Not with little Bo beep. Dive deep into a delightful heap with Beth not in a dive, a drive-in or a cheep inn Instead in a nice clean soft pillowed bed. ***I’m already behind schedule. So maybe Ira is right that I do have anxiety still even with my little Zoloft pill. ****

Sunday, November 3, 2029When called “scum”Look from whom the word comes. Some weak, pathetic corrupt conman churlish Around dictators acts starry-eyed girlish. That’s an insult to gurus, girls and boysWith whose lives he toys. Saturday, November 2, 2029So, a lot is going right. Not just tonight. Things are better with me and BethBeth and me. And a very nice Beth to you, Beth. ****Composing, trading, exercise, languages,Cleaning, meditation, therapy, diet Oh, that’s ocd talking Caulking up movement forward. ****Socializing all in better balance. With the valence of my new beard. I’ve steered and cleared a few hurdles. More efficient tooI’m still too busy. Relax around my tired eyes. Strengthen, enjoy surprise. ****A better way to go In rain or snow Even when the sun does shineI don’t mind. ****More news from the dumpster:I can rule, defile and continue to pillage this village which I single-handedly deliver and usher to  Russia, making it great again From a padded cell, penned up in a penitentiary pen with a bunch of big strong blue collar men. But will some be of color?Could we then Smuggle in some porn stars behind bars?I sure miss JeffreyThough his fees were high. Oh the young pleasures you could buy. Again and again, I prove and you can’t denyI am the most Presidential of men. ****Away from the wildflowersAway from the wild firesYoung women ignite desires forgotten Gotten into remarkably little trouble For I largely keep myself in a bubble. I’ve left the Billy Club. Not battered by boIsterous Billy But snubbed by those young women At least one who complained Even though I’ve refrained Constraining The passionate, the fire in my eyesFire is wild in the firm form of the Way. Easier to be alone By myself Is there hope I canAppropriately function among men And especially women?Is it all about self control?Especially as I get old?