the poem of the empty bed:bukowski

there is no deliverance,

there is an imagination of deliverance,

there is an angel of deliverance

but it has no wings.

there is no love

there is an imagination of love,

one cares for what is not quite there

and when it leaves

It has no wings

It has no feet

but it leaves

even though it never really

arrived.

only the pain is real,

only the waste is real,

only the dripping of the faucet is real,

only the empty bed is real.

one must finally consider the real things:

most creatures are incapable of love,

almost every walking talking living creature is

incapable of love.

this is not inconsiderate of them--

it is like asking them to have 3 eyes when

they only have 2.

It's like asking them to have what they do not have:

frogs are frogs

dogs are dogs,

the mould is set.

to imagine another would love you

is to imagine that you have exceptional qualities

that others do not.

love is a form of selectivity

and the judgments of most people have long ago

gone awry

been sent numb and addled

by their existence--

by what they to to exist

by what makes them think they live

by what makes them think they love.

when you look at that empty bed

do not always consider it a defeat--

a sexual starvation , perhaps,

but there's more room to stretch the legs

and the arms.

there's room to consider and to think and to wait,

and if that one doesn't arrive

any time and forever

realize that

doves need doves

crickets need crickets

swordfish need swordfish

fleas need fleas

hogs need pigs

pigs need hogs

the river runs alone,

there is only one sun.

and sometimes alone

when the agony seems greater

than the gut-mind can bear

laughter arrives.

in small rooms

laughter arrives

you begin to laugh

the gift arrives

this laughter

and it runs up and down the walls

until you get tired and the walls

get tired

and then you sleep,

and then you sleep

and sleep and sleep.

Charles Bukowski

8-31-76

Friday

Old people,
like me
collapse on the bus and sigh
it's cold and dark
quiet corner
justice sleeps

WHISPER OF SPRING

Volume of violets
I wish for you
wish for spring
to bloom again
As love may blush
scarlet red
wayward roses
play agan
fly-against the wind

WaVeS

Words don't replace
the pulse
of heart against heart
Like a ballet dancer
on stilts
I stumble my way
Wayward sticks
of stone tablet words
marbled against the sky
like a bird on a wire

SEXTET

Time change
one is one again
two is forgotten
but longed for
Four is three
and two and one, once again

Ain't got enough digits
to count all the ways
countless times
!2 NO AVAIL

I'll just stumble to the door
company on truth
to nowhere
bring back the dust
of long settled tombs
Mercury finds his wings to the sun
mystic plies his Celtic rune
Noah steers his ship toward shore

Red golden leaves
fall like apples
on Newton's head
Relatively, proclivity,
malicious leaning

A very disturbed and distorted way
I walk in , get pieces of paper
It's barter
goods and services
we pass to our youth
when we are Greece under the wheel
Mandellas,
math doesn't do it justice
Gotta get behind that mule and plow

My inspiration is Bukowski
explains a lot
had to make six
hope you like it a lot

Chapter I:Beginning

Paramour, that's what I was. Paddled off, down the Oregon river, found a home, Christy was three. Found a soul there too, that belongs to me. Mobile, peach style philosophy. Now, Chicago. Christy is 22, and pregnant, I'm graying and itchy. Michael comes along and he's not exciting, but nice. Wooing goes slow, who was wooing who, as long as we had a good time, and we did. Jazz bars at midinght, afternoon teas, pillow talk. Slow, then an existential urge pushed , power took over. He was as alone as I was. His choice was quiet, it was mine to give.

Strange Trip:Chapter xiii

December out the window, soft flurry of winter white, gray dawn.
Michael wakes up, smiles. Take his hand, he yawns and shuffles in bed, fix his pillows and lift him up. "Been here all night?" "Yeah" "Need to get some sleep, girl" "Don't call me girl!" "Come here, please" I collapse on his chest, snuggle in his folding arms. Nurse walks in, "Okay, kids, no hanky panky here." Quick kiss, he pulls me down again, arise the fire within, pins me down, no pyre this. One tear only will I give you.

Trangental Reverse

Just suppose,
life was a collection of moments,
disjointed, juxtaposed
One, Sunset Grille,
first night down
you had planned
walk down Clearwater Beach
hand in hand
sunset on the gulf
from the veranda

Across the compass point
directionless poles
all is south, or north
curtains in the sky
irridescent, shimmering

CHAPTER 10:REDEMPTION

It's been a few months. Lisa is doing well. Some good days, some bad, mostly good. Gallery is doing well, opened a coffee shop in the basement, hired Bridget to manage the place, she's great.
Our status is routinely set; breakfast, paper, radio weather, kiss. I'll retire soon, my life will resovle to writing, and teaching, workshop above the carriage house. Permanence is illusive.
called her Friday, 3pm. "Lisa!", "Yeah, I'm kinda busy, what is it?" "Meet me at Tony's tonight,8:30, wear that dress." Heard her sigh through the phone, "Ok"
Arranged with Tony, our table in the corner, pulled in Bridget to control the chaos. Tony's cousin knew a trio; violin, accordion, and mandolin. I said sure, why not.
Lisa walks in, that dress clinging to every curve, a geometry only God could conceive. "How was your day?" "Busy" "Know Lisa, you need to slow down. It's like you're herding your life into a very narrow space. When did you last take some time to yourself, go to your studio, be creative?" She bowed her head in exhaustion and started to cry. I came around to her, lifted her chin, "What are you doing on the 19th?" "I don't know." "I do, you're getting married." "To whom?" "Who else?" "Did I ever say yes?" "Yeah, bout a year ago"
Then the parade begins. Bridget comes out of the kitchen with Tony and the troubadours, sits down next to Lisa with a calendar appointment book. Seamstress, a cousin of hers, hair dresser, UAW hall.
I slipped away into the parking lot, stars so crisp. Juanita comes out, takes my arm, "You know we love you". The tears flowed down.

REBIRTH

Feel like a Chilean miner
resurrected from the bowels of hell
Tea Parties and Terrorists
what will bring us from the brink

In 1976 at 25
America was 200
took off in search of the promised dream
found other wandering souls along the back door land

In 2001 I was 50
went looking again for what was lost and what would be

2026-I'll be 75
America will be 250
if either of us survive
Will Jefferson and Franklin and Washington and Madison or Adams show up?
Light a sparkler, twirl?
In the star spangled night

BOO

Just casual neighbors, friendly and thankful for the company, shared food and occasional joint, yard duties of cutting grass and shoveling snow, not knowing much about each other, but free and open.
That fall Saturday was beautiful, golden, maple leaves from the big tree in our yard, neither with a rake. Ran to the hardware, some orange trash bags, and last thought, pumpkin. Grandkids on the way. Afternoon of color and rustle, piling and bagging, carving in the evening. Decide on the face-compromise, triangle eyes, curved brows, crescent nose, jagged teeth. She contributed candle, ready for the onslaught of goblins and ghosts, candy overflowing.
They came in two's and three's, sunset draped. Evening was cool and clear. Both grabbed a sweater, but arms felt better, as Jack gleamed and grinned. Dusk relented and riddle rolled to an end, kiss.
We shared the structure of our house, refugees from life, we feared the lonely night alone.
I love the life I live and the people I meet in between.
Hi there, half moon and Orion's belt. I'll be there in a minute, got something else to do.

Lisa and Kim Depart

The clown is dead
long live the clown

Strange emptiness to the day
Twisted maple outside the window
Empty floors, rugs rolled up
Prisoners freed from the cell

It's just another day
subject to the tides
and whims of gods we do not know
although we ask
only the barest brush upon our face
Life is so distant

ALACRITY

Morning magenta,
dark clouds east,
corridors of growing light,
monuments of stone, steel, glass

Life in abeyance
pieces in motion
game goes on

UNBOUND

He was sullen, sitting on the porch looking nowhere.
It was a beautiful day, early autumn, colors just appear,
late flowers, mums and astors, birds flock, he is not there.

Throw a ball on the roof of the garage, catch it aimlessly. See the girl coming from next door. She is fair, red-head with hint of freckles, wearing her Saturday jeans and plaid blouse, hair tied back, carrying a couple of books. "Hi Jimmy", she calls. "Hi Mary, where ya goin" "Downtown to the library, want to go" "Sure". We walk down the tree lined street, it's warm in the sun, light breeze tosses the leaves around, past the pool hall and the church, reach the school, the kids playing ball in the yard wave. A couple more blocks, pass the gas station, then the butcher shop, grocery across the street. Train goes by, silver cars shining. Round the corner at the drug store, Main Street, small shops; jewelry, furniture, clothing, a restaurant, library, Harold's Barber Shop, 5 and 10, bowling alley, bar, Methodist church, Drs. office, insurance, a couple of aparment houses at the end, and one stop light. The library is busy, Mary turns in her books, Miss Mason asks if she can help, we say no, walk towards the back. I check out the science fiction, a new Heinlein. Mary goes to the literary section, comes out with an Emily Bronte and Emily Dickinson. We check out. "Want to stop at the Moonlite?" "No, lets go on down to the store" We walk in to Walkers, the aromas are mixed and wonderful. I find the latest Superman, scandalous, fifteen cents. Mary gets a notebook and pen, Mrs Johnson takes our money. We head to the fountain. Bea's working, "Well if it ain't Jimmy and Mary. You kids have have been hanging out a lot together lately. What'll it be." "Two sodas, chocolate right?, two chocolate sodas." "Coming right up." I reach over and touch her hand.

Screen door opens, woman sticks her head out, graying but once beautiful. "James, it's time for your medicine." He grumbles but lifts himself up. "Stop grumbling, you sound like an old bear." "Mmmmmmm..." Swallows his pills and grabs the paper, heads back to the porch. "Susie called, Michael got two A's and made the team. They may come up for your birthday." "Mmmm..." Wonders, "Where has the time gone?" Mary comes out with her knitting, sits in her rocking chair. Jimmy reaches across and touches her hand.

MOMENTS

Indiana August afternoon
leaves turn their silver sides to the sun
dusty breeze blows meager from the south
clouds swell like white tumors on the sky

Finally, scarlet streaks appear as shadows fail
evening star calls the dusk
lightnin bugs answer, crickets wail

Dark falls on the last game
mothers call from back fences
childrens' names
bound for tubs and hugs
summer evening turns again

HEAVENLY HELL

A clown, a joke;
I sit here and choke on my own words.
Stalking love, nameless;
some door on the horizon

Theft

Someone stole my TV
and my DVD
The world stole my identity
Who am I?

Rapists and racists steal dignity
Molesters steal innocence
Politicians steal confidence
Killers steal life
none of which they have a right

Should I cling to the ethics of my ancestors
or put on the tattered mantle of modernity

Death has never been so appealing

Where is the joy?

How can a person survive without joy?
If it's only struggle and pain,
disappointment, disdain;
why get up and do it all again?

EYE

I am not asking for permission
I am not asking for condolence
not even for acceptance
just recognition
give you the same

Devil

Walk through the room
expect to see you
only empty sheets
dirty clothes

Get thee behind me
let me go

HOMECOMING

Spirit eases
through the spring grass
early June, lightnin bugs
morning dove coos

Getting Old

Beautiful dark child
baby daughter
caress my finger
like a crescent moon
above the venus star

Nothing to say
empty as a drum
only companion is pain
familiar, embraced
as a friend

Desolate, lonely country
crossroads
back where I came
further ahead
whipporwill

Climb the vine
into my heart
flowers and thorns
wish I could stay
little wing, fly

MUSE

Time is an ocean
wave upon wave
let's ride this one
together again

BROOKLYN

Child of truth
world of lies
express hope
inside of you
or it dies

Sloshed, water in a bathtub
souls in the body

Press flesh upon flesh

My African lilly
blooms in a field of thorns
fragrant, bold and arrogant
opens to the most gentle touch

Handful

Lilacs and lillies
dogwoods and redbuds
glorious spring

Dogeared Bible

Dusty gray brown
mottled
gideon

Ironic,sadly

Sadly ironic
or
ironically sad
e.g. Nixon president in 1969
Kennedy gave us the moon

It's Friday,
Friday's are inherently ironic
and inherently sad

I hurt that your sad
You make me sad
Hate that I love you
Love to hate you

Tuning a guitar
about learning your own instrument
Partners?
She must learn it too
and you, her's

Play the hum of the universe
the scream of hell

Life is a balance
of pleasure and pain
Pain of pleasure deferred
pleasure of pain indulged

PINK

Wish we could be
next door neighbors
talk over the tulips
kids and weather
important stuff between the slats
coffee grounds over the tomatoes

the Valentine card's
gettn' moldy
my heart is foldn'
down on itself
sword fights with my TV
touch is sadly tucked away

'bout to lose it with this world
compromise is not in my toolbag
sunshine now has crimson flowers

SPRING?

AFRICAN LILLY

Had a dream last night, a woman, a lot like you except for the eyes;
never forget those eyes. Someone said, "Will you listen to her?" I looked at her, she looked back. A dark center heart, I didn't know.

BOUQUET

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!

EXISTENTIALISM

Is not an option

URBAN LIFE

Life doesn't go around the corner
it cuts down the alley
through marble walls

Shotguns in the fire
Venus on the half shell

bus this morning
display was broken
read 1/1/00

time quake