I know where poetry comes from
⚫
A Myth of Me
Poem- A Myth of Me
There has been a flooding
It started with a leaking old pipe
then poured in the sewage- my old shirt
revenge of the object.
In this rented basement
I am hiding a home
I am hiding myself
and something else
a flipside of homelessness
Yet with one more great-flood
it followed its way-in
and that followed:
the old times ⋄ a few extra coins ⋄ lost hair in the bath tub ⋄ promises ⋄ tickets to a flight to-and-back from Kansas ⋄ unpaid unreadable bills ⋄ expired IDs ⋄ half written essays ⋄ Zettelkasten of hope ⋄ fight ⋄ fear ⋄ horniness ⋄ gifts- once loved then lost to time to fate ⋄ myself- piece by piece scattered all over the city etc.
All that drifting ever slowly
to the ever empty sea
stopping by my street
to say a quick-hello
-remember me?
I hide in my little basement
Its walls run thin
to stop one’s history
pour back-in
I step out for a smoke
time to time
to breathe some fresh air
of the world gone-by
- got rid of me
eons ago
I bring back a stray cat
offer her food, love
and a worn out couch
show her all the things
I was once made of
now it all stinks-
a self-eulogy
my fermented anthology.
I am not out there anymore
cornered in my basement
lives all of me
all of my time
all- what it could be
an object of reality
and a myth of me.
⚫
Kayfabe| Youth: You motherfucker!
in memory of Charles Bukowski
who the fuck fucks anymore?
wanna be kids?
when the mix is about right
what terrible idea in writing-
yet deliciously consummating in practice
then taking turns- to exist
one in the bedroom- other on the couch
poor bastard kids
born of pretending
and a whole lot of fucking
we were long done
playing our own- little kayfabes
its all fucked up
no one is fucking
we're just fucking around
or some of us
so to speak.
⚫
A Well-done Beef Wrap
I burn my bread hard
burn it down to its stripes
ਬਾਹਰੋਂ ਭੁਜਿਆ | ਅੰਦਰੋਂ ਰਸਿਆ
ਸੁਰਖ਼-ਹਰਾ
tastes like:
smoke, fire, ash and coal
If I dare a bite
my mouth fills with—
salt ⋄ black pepper ⋄ cabbage ⋄ a lake ⋄ a barn ⋄ my lover riding me ⋄ lemons ⋄ splitting ⋄ pickle ⋄ tomatoes yes, fucking tomatoes we grew in the backyard ⋄ last time I was too sad to eat her downs ( I had planed so, but I was way too sad that morning) ⋄ a husky-smelling candle ⋄ parks ⋄ summer cottages ⋄ sweating a flood while sleeping, and laughing about it (how cute) ⋄ but beef— mostly
I live in a big well-done beef wrap
if you can live in it
you can eat it too
and its pretty fucking big
I can tell you that much
⚫
Habits Are Expensive
A cup of tea ⋄ smoking ⋄ washing ⋄ eating ⋄ cleaning ⋄ hitting a joint
Such a long wait
to write something
about habits
⚫
Two more days
some money will arrive in two days
two days are nothing
I would have outlived it
then let the elements have me
but some money will arrive in two days
death won't barge-in
unless I open the door
but I won't
not even for a cigarette
some fucking money will arrive in two days
I would have outlived it though.
Some things are given- everyday
they aren't food, rent or dignity
a cat and another day
I tell my cat
some money is headed our way
it could arrive in two days
we would have outlived it though
we will not have intrusive thoughts
of wanting to eat people’s kids
don't you think?
⚫
Granny Smith | 11th Nov 2024
some money arrived
might not make the walls close on me
but slow them down
I ate a Granny Smith apple
seasoned with
half a teaspoon of salt ⋄ half a lemon ⋄ fine-chopped cilantro stems ⋄ black crushed pepper ⋄ quarter of a lemon ⋄ two tabelspoon of Tahin ⋄ worn-out socks ⋄ 9 pages of writing ⋄ walking around naked like I was the first man and the only man left behind ⋄ forgiveness ⋄ apologies ⋄ anger ⋄ a pack of cheap lavender incense ⋄ reading merleau ponty ⋄ chasing my cat with a piece of paper he thinks is a monster ⋄ not checking on friends and foes.
⚫
Of Us
We knew-
love wasn’t gonna cut it
got a close shot though
- the usual case.
love stays
for his convenience
lovers got to move.
lovers are gone
mum is gone
dad needs to go
kids need to move out
haters are dead anyway
love won’t quit
I won’t go
until my time
what stubborn child
standing right in the middle.
⚫
Forgive me father, for I have sinned
I haven't slept in years
I haven't eaten properly forever
I have fucked,
as scantly as the above two though
and not, in years.
I slept off the coming—
I ate, when I should have saved
and I chose to sleep with lowly people
they smelled so damn good
I should have known better
not to sleep it off but
first, to pickle them
then eat
then fuck.
⚫
A Solitary Hair on My Chest
I have a long solitary hair on my chest
I wasn't aware of it whole my life
until she made a habit of plucking it
when she could come over for holidays.
It hasn't summer’ed in years
I have this solitary grey hair on my chest
I often think
What could be the point of it?
⚫
My cat is hungry
What does my cat think
when I have nothing to offer him?
what does he think- happened?
did I change?
or I have none to give?
His stomach growls
he stares at me, then at his saucer
waits a little more
rubs against my leg—
perhaps, a gesture of forgiveness.
On days like this
he sleeps on my stomach
our stomach growl
and we cannot tell—
who's who
we laugh
a gesture of letting go.
⚫
Wait
To wait to change
for others to change
for something to change.
In waiting forever
something changes in you—forever.
Δv = v − v.ref
You wouldn't know
what arrived
what replaced you
what changed—
them or you?
⚫
Finding a Pillow
Who invented the pillow?
Freud or Lacan?
Pillow is soft
it has no nutritional value
yet feels like—
Descartes’s head / swimming in a sea of tits
a thousand promises in good faith
trust, that things get even softer,
once we get inside people.
I have hardened from outside
like most do
we all must find something soft
as soft as my pillow.
Until then
its okay / to find a pillow
a Bataillean excess
an ever empty Hegelian crater,
that negates every future meteor.
and if you're a dickhead like me,
gently, put your head on top of it—
it will slip right in.
⚫
Inside-Out
Do eyes have an eye of their own?
for that matter, an “I” of an I?
does 'outside' has an outside, of its own?
who owns things, people, non-people?
what adds up?
what counts?
what matters?
what is the reason made of?
why is it outside me?
what axe have I dropped on my toes?
are they still my toes?
are they outside now?
There is no outside.
and there is no outside—
outside of an outside,
was there an outside at all.
Its just walls closing on me
collapsing on nothing
there was no inside Afterall.
⚫
A Thousand Sun
Moon in the pond
streetlight in the pond
a pond-light?
pond in the moon
a pond on the moon
what's the difference?
who's your moon,
now?
nine-to-five
or an eight to three
you will fuck it up
and go sit under a tree
hey dude! under the tree,
are you a monk?
Shine on me
like a thousand suns
burn me ways you find fun
turn me up
burn me down
Hey Sun!
are you burning?
are you getting cold?
⚫
Baudrillard’s Last Prank
It's hard to make friends now
there's very little left in people
a limp and a, turret maybe—
a timeline of their many ruptures.
Their person is done with them
Here hear!
reminiscent of self-professed habits
unpaid credit card bills
rent, gas,… more gas
oil wells
a dozen certificate of authenticity
conformité à l'efficacité.
Did it all end with—
crucifixion?
the great plague?
Hiroshima?
1968?
9/11?
January the sixth?
today?
Today,
if I hold a barrel in my mouth
and pull up my last prank,
whom, I should've called?
If I must.
Were there people, lol!
who weren’t done with themselves too.
there’s no point.
we were all spent long ago
we’re done with this too, though—
बहुत प्यार करते हैं तुम को सनम
⚫
Age- is a Bitch
Once there was an Age
of ⧫ hot rain ⧫ dinosaurs ⧫ fern! fucking fern ⧫ people ⧫ things_ and back to no-things
it passed through them all.
through
people ⧫ money ⧫ houses ⧫ single mums in your area ⧫ art ⧫ genocides ⧫ manifestos ⧫ indifference ⧫ love, and back.
then—fern!
more fucking fern.
Once there was an Age
and it didn't age well for anyone.
⚫
A real Event
May 68
9/11
January the sixth, etc. etc.
If only events matter
not much has happened
ever since I saw you
for the last
Now,
is a rupture
an old bone the dog dug-out,
when it could have just walked away.
⚫
Kids Are Watching
When you secretly hate everything
when you sleep on a hungry stomach
on a dirty mattresses you found by the street
and offer them one too.
when you wake up
with no sense of place or direction
struggle to find something to cook
find a potato and cut it in two halves
a quarter for each
and save the other half
for the next shameful event on the cards.
When their friends visit
couch is taken by a catatonic mound
without a face
there's no need for eye-contact
or a smile.
When you're happy without a reason
and you forget to look worried
or when you look worried
when you look like— you cried.
when you make pathetic advances
towards the bartender
she looks ballpark your age
but ain't their mother
and she also doesn't look
— as fucked as your good-self.
When you're humming a happy song
and there's nothing to be happy about
when you are happy
and want to buy something small for them
though you cannot feed them anymore
small gestures.
You lurk around their personal space
when you have none
and you haven't gotten a chance
to touch yourself in ten day.
you've become an animal
—kids are watching
when you raid the empty fridge
in the middle of the night
you shameless thing!
Don't turn-around
kids are watching your back
don't face them
you look fucked.
This isn't a place for kids
You moron!
⚫
Everybody Lives
A Snake sat on my tongue
I speak/ what he tells me to
I can’t swallow it/ that will kill both of us
some venom I swallow/ rest I spit
everybody lives.
A bird sat on my tongue
I speak/ what he tells me to
I can’t swallow it/ that will kill both of us
some songs I sing/ rest I spit
everybody lives.
A woman sat on my tongue
I speak/ what she tells me to
I can’t swallow her/ that will kill both of us
some love I swallow/ rest I spit
everybody lives.
⚫
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