Tag Archives: poem

Catnip

Cat eye

I’m a cat, the stray one nobody goes looking for. And you’re catnip.

I scuttle around in the streets, hunting dark alleys for fat rats, born of shadow, a furry fellow.

Wild child. Pet to no one, master of myself. The gleaming silver trash bin is my throne and the shiny brown roaches are my subjects.

My kingdom stretches as far as my little paws could carry me and I have never encountered a leash or an itchy patch of fur I couldn’t reach…

I’m the mighty lion in my own great story.

But you’re catnip.

One sniff of you and the earth becomes the sky. I lose my balance–­­isn’t that an unacceptable crime? I roll, flip, rub, wriggle, waddle, tumble, scamper, scurry and prance. Scoot, shuffle, and dance! Leap down a hole just to steal a glance! You get into my head and get stuck there like a hairball, the kind I want to keep messing with my mind forever and ever and ever more. ‘Til the birds roar and the pigs soar and droplets of purple rain pour on my whiskers.

I’ll throw away eight out of my nine just to get in line for you. Bow down my proud head, play silly games like “play dead,” and like a common hamster, ride a never-ending wheel. Even risk being roadkill if it would get me nearer to you, just an inch or two…

Because you’re the poison I picked.

The laced needle that pricked.

And I can’t get enough of you like a stupid ball of yarn or a goddamn laser pointer.

Oh, you’re probably bad for me. And if I were a dog, you’d probably be my chocolate.

But I’m not a dog.

I’m a cat.

And, my oh my, you’re catnip.

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Decades in Her Hands*

Someday, I might just drop everything, wave goodbye to everyone, and leave for India to find the one who holds decades in her hands.

I’ll fly across the world, jettisoning my worries into the ocean where they’ll feed mermaids and the magical creatures of the deep–and they’ll be no more.

I’ll plant my feet on that ancient land and breathe in the mysteries breathed out by its elaborate temples as old as the gods whose holy names still reverberate through the silent jungles and deserts and in the corners of iron cities drowning in the noise of humanity’s tongues.

I’ll touch the earth and feel the dust of fallen empires in my palms, thinking about my insignificance in the endless river of time and in the vastness of life, sweat dripping as my pale skin bakes in the sun.

Immortal secrets will tear me away from the transient troubles that plague my soul, and the wind–wiser than the wizened shaman in the street–will blow away the worldly whims of my mind.

Into the sea of humanity I’ll dive, riding a whirlpool of saris worn by women whose deep-set eyes peel away at shallow hearts.

I’ll be a foreigner in a strange land that has seen foreigners come and go for centuries and even older times that men can’t possibly remember anymore. And the land will know me more than I do myself, unraveling my trivialities like a scroll.

Yet somehow I won’t care and won’t look back one glance homeward until I find you. Continue reading

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“That Guy, Eh?” A Poem in 7 Veils of Impenetrability

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That guy, eh?

I mean

Seriously

That guy?

I

Mean

Seriously

?

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The Girl Has a Lethal Kick

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I know a girl who has a lethal kick.
She’ll kick you in the face just because she can.
And man can she do a lot of things–a lot more things than your average man.

I know a girl who has a lethal kick.
She used to live her life around kicking.
Kicked people for sport and kicked stuff to get better at the sport.
Got into her prestigious school kicking champions–you know the sort.

And when this girl walked into the room the first time,
she looked like she couldn’t hurt a fly.
She’s so delicate I thought maybe she couldn’t keep up with the guys.

But this girl received the blows well,
found holes in the defense, and mastered the fight in a jiffy.
And now nobody thinks her iffy. Especially not yours truly.

See this girl doesn’t flinch.
She’ll kick you where it hurts and she won’t miss an inch.
She has her eyes dead-set on the goal though her charm betrays her passion.
She’s as lovely as the summer sea and as dangerous as a stormy ocean.

I always get a kick
Out of seeing her bag of tricks.
And sometimes it makes me sick
That looking at her is the only thing worth doing
the entire week.

She’s just and fair–sometimes too frank to a fault
She minces no words–kicks like a colt!
Never ever serve her meal too late
And let everyone stare at her eating,
‘Cause nothing’s coming your way
But an excruciating, bloody beating.

She drives like a grumpy cab driver
Whom nobody on the road could impress;
Gets lost dancing in her seat
Then finds her own way back. Neat!
She looks at you, smiles, then grooves to the track
God, I’ve never felt so useless and uninteresting all my life.

She dances as if to fly into the infinite night sky.
And maybe that’s where she belongs–with the moon and stars
It isn’t hard to see why.
I’ll pay big bucks to go and see her kicking the purple clouds marooned
and cause daylight to come screaming into my tiny room.

The girl will remain–yes, the girl will remain
The girl who has a lethal kick and who can bring the real pain.
The girl who will bring the world to its knees
and knock those pathetic guys off their feet.

She’ll be all right even when times are tough
‘Cause she’s tougher than most toughies I know
And tougher than the toughest nut to crack.
And even if she falls, I know she’ll get up and will be back
To deal the knockout blow and leave her opponents blue and black.

And as for me I’m no one but a fool
I’ll take my fool’s chance and try to be cool
I’ll go and guard my heart and hope my little words stick
‘Cause this girl is all I think about and she’s got a lethal kick.

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What Eats Me

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What eats me
Is that I never sleep early
Even when I’m already brain-dead
And brains remind me of zombies
Eater of brains
Bringer of pains
Probably like you.

What eats me
Is that I never stop trying
Putting cheese to it and rhyming
Typing,
Sighing,
Gradually dying
Whenever you so much as pass by.

What eats me
Is that you never intend it
But you create chaos anyway
Like an innocent child
Or a mad man in the street
Or just a lazy god with too much time
And boredom in his godly seat.

What eats me
Is that I’ll probably never get my chance
To show you I’m great at other things, too,
Other things besides a drunken night’s dance.

What eats me
Is that you’ll never be somebody else
Perhaps someone with less brains
And brains remind me of zombies
Sad, soaked zombies in the pouring rain.

You’ll just never be somebody else
Someone I can actually impress
Without instantly getting depressed
Over my ambitious romantic request.

Sucks that you’ll never be somebody else
Somebody ugly perhaps,
Or poor,
Or awkward,
Or annoying
With an ambulance’s siren for a voice
Or jagged stalactites for teeth
Or–shit I don’t know
Somebody less you I guess.

What eats me
Is that you possibly never even listened
When I told you stuff
That left me traumatized
The rest of the weekend.

What eats me–
Beats me!
Maybe some icky thought of you
And me
Just you and me
And a dreamy walk
Along the campus I used to roam.
I’ll show you there’s more to it than you think
There are flowers and bees and beautiful things.
Lines that would melt your guard
Stares that would compress time and space
And reasons never to feel alone again.

What eats me
Ate all those other boys.

What eats me
Devoured their hopeful hearts
And silent farts alike.

What eats me
Eats the night,
Eats the reasons
And the fight inside;
Eats the itch,
Eats my speech,
It’s freakin’ insane–
Life’s a bitch;
Eats the rights and the wrongs,
The common sense to just play along.
‘Cause what eats me
Eats like a zombie
And ’til you shoot it dead
It’ll go on a killing spree.

What eats me,
It’s you.

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Skips a Beat

I simply remember
all the things about you
and my heart skips a

Heck I don’t even know you
but my heart skips a

Well, I don’t give a
I just can’t feel my
In my chair, it’s hard to
At the table, it’s hard to

I like you without reason
like how I like the Christmas

Like I don’t need to wonder why
I like the bright summer

Like I don’t need to question
why I like the deep, blue

Like I don’t need to ponder
why you’re over and I’m

A simple look or
a meaningless smile
is all that it really takes
for my heart to leap a thousand

‘Cause your hair
is lighter than

Your voice
drowns out all the

You walk
as lightly as you

And when you do it all
I simply can’t help but

I wish I could tell you
to stop running after that
That guy who makes you
And who wastes your precious

I wish I could tell you
to give me a
like that night that we
with your hand in my

Yeah, I wish you’d give me a
to prove I’m a better
that I’m even better than Tom Cruise,
Brad Pitt,
Clint Eastwood,
and James Dean all

But never mind.

I think I’ll just grit my
Suck the air up and
Lest I die in my
The next time you stare at me
and my heart skips a

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The Rains

Aren’t lovers like the rain?
They come pouring from the skies,
heaven-sent.
They laugh for no reason
and fill the nights with screams.
They soak the world with fluids
and make everything
so

much

heavier

than they should be.
They make a lot of us sick,
revolted,
nauseated–
an unhealthy bunch overflowing with madness.

Aren’t lovers like the rain? Think about it.
Oh they don’t care about the earth;
clouds drop them like freed angels
and they fall,

fall,

fall without ever thinking,
ever stopping one bit

until they crash

and turn into mud. Filthy puddles in the torn ground.

And aren’t lovers like the rain?
They hurtle in one direction
then go down the drain.
They’re raging rivers and bursting creeks,
claps of thunder and roaring winds;
the drip,
drip,

drip

from a hole in your roof–
the annoying sound while you try to sleep.

You know, I do remember it’s like the rain,
the giver of life
and the most numbing of pains
like ice in your head as your chest burns
and the squish in your shoes
when you brave the stupid.

God it’s stupid.

So stupid it flooded my head and swamped my work!
‘Twas everywhere I looked, shit, even in my bed!
And all the basins were filled–no teacup to spare!
Nothing was dry for everything was goddamn wet.

And I bet

that I haven’t learned a thing from the rains.
Though I say I love the sun
it’s not what my skin seeks.
For as clean and dry as I aspire to be,
clearly, the storms know the real me;

for the heavens set the rule,

the lightning is the judge,

the droplets are the hearts,

and rains are lovers,

water is love.

And I

I’m nothing but

a sponge.

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