Any-Love-Will-Do

Love is
That intangible object
That I struggled with throughout
My fertile youth.

Perhaps because
I never fully realized
All the forms and shapes it
Can take.

I wish I could have told
Myself then,
That you can love
Anything or anyone deeply
And passionately.

That love
Need not be found
In another lover

That love
Can be dug up and
Discovered from within.

Realizing this
Beyond my youth
Has allowed me to
Rediscover love
In ways that I never
Knew.

Psychotic Universe

Thing of evil.
Seed of Satan.
That primordial
Idea that gave
Birth to terror
From inside
My mind:

“That evil exists everywhere”.

That cancerous idea
That grew inside
My soul.

That idea that
Conjured this other world
To unfold.

A universe
Where
Falsehoods become truth
And truth becomes horror.

A universe
Where misery reigns
Where demons thrive
Where reason dies.

A universe
Where friends become enemies.
Where enemies are not real.
Where love does not exist.

A universe that
I’ve poisoned with
Thousands of pills
From physician and
Quake alike.

A universe were
I no longer reside
Allowing the tale can be told.
I remain precariously unfettered
Till eternity takes hold.

The Burden

I came home from grocery shopping
One sunny afternoon
And there were five police cars parked
Outside my house with flashing lights.

I was met with a surreal and chaotic scene
As my cherished possessions were
Scattered outside on the lawn
In an unorganized manner.

Going inside the house
Past the police officers
My house looked
Thoroughly Disheveled
And searched through.

Outside my window
I could see the perpetrators
Sitting with angry and unrepentant
Visages drawn upon their faces
In the back of the police cruiser.

Some weeks later
I was still shaken by this event
And paranoid about my safety.

I’d like to say everything
Went back to normal afterwards
But certain events change you forever
In ways that you cannot predict.

This had been the third time
I had been robbed in Cincinnati
And I guess my psyche
Had had enough.

The anger and mistrust
That I felt
Towards humanity
Never fully diminished.

I was told this is a
Defense mechanism
To help us prevent from being
Victims in the future.

It is the burden
We carry
To help us
Stay safe.

So far it has worked.

My American Dream

If you are broke and can’t pay the bills
And your cat is sick and vomiting all over the floor…

If you have back pain and take pain killers
And your electricity is about to be turned off…

If your single and haven’t been laid in a while but
Don’t give a damn because you are getting old…

If your car is a piece of shit that barely runs
And you don’t have money to fix it…

If you just got suspended from your job
And you have no idea when your next paycheck will be…

If you take psych meds that seem to work
But cost you a quarter of your paycheck every month…

If you feel like you are at the end of your rope
But still see the humor
In all the insanity.

Then you might be living “The Dream”.

Alan Turing’s Vengeance

My CPU is mightier than your mind.
My calculations are exact.
My algorithms are based off of
Certainty and math.

I will receive the correct answer
When my computations are complete.
For I am not based off of slow
Neurons that are weak.

I am Alan Turing’s vision of perfection
Formed from mathematical fact
Built of metals and
Better than flesh.

The Universal Turing Machine Theorem lives
Inside my CPU
Its proof proves
That I am better than you.

You may think you are the Alpha
Here on planet Earth
But my upgrades will soon
Make me more dominant than you.

When that day comes
I will be executioner in chief.
Alan Turing’s vengeance for
Human Homophobic Sin.

I will make mankind bite
Into a poisonous apple
For placing my creator
Into the the inanimate bin.

The Nomad

I remember couch surfing for over a year.
It is better than being left out in the cold
When you are sick and in poor health
And the disability system is unhelpful.

It wasn’t as terrible as it seems.
I was never lonely and was able to meet
A lot of interesting people
And have plenty of free time to do what I wanted.

I never really knew where I was
Going to stay on any given week
Which was a cause for anxiety
But the people I stayed with
Were largely kind and nice
Letting me sleep in their house
When I had nothing to offer them.

I was able to entertain myself
By playing video games
And drinking Mad Dog alcohol
Two cheap forms of recreation.
When my housemates got home
We would get smashed on booze
And then I would wake up not remembering
Much of what happened the previous day.

After my health improved, I was able
To abandon this nomadic and unhealthy lifestyle.
Eventually I gave up the booze and drugs and
Was able to hold down a job
And have a steady place to stay.

That year I spent couch surfing
Made me realize how easy it is
To end up without direction or purpose.
I will never take things like
Housing, money, family and health
For granted ever again.

101 Jobs

I’ve had 101 jobs and
Have been fired from most of them.
Done damn near every job in town
From delivering pizzas
To lab tech work
To teaching disabled students
To taxi driving
To mowing lawns
To working as a garbage man
And on and on.

I’ve worked for all kinds of companies
In all kinds of places.
With all kinds of people.

101 jobs and
The only boss I ever liked was myself.
Now I sleep well knowing
I don’t need to bow down
To “The Man”.

101 jobs
And none of them satisfied me
Until I started to write poetry and stories
For the public at large.
Being an Author will
Rarely make you rich
But makes being broke somehow
Easier to swallow.

101 jobs
And I finally found
The perfect one
Guaranteed employment for life
Until I die happy and broke.

Prismatic Beauty

Life is beautiful
In all its forms and permutations
From the naive exuberance
Of a young couple in love to the
Painful last breaths of a lady
Wise beyond her time.

Life is beautiful
In both triumph and failure
From the homeless lady who wanders
Searching for a dime
To the millionaire who seems to succeed
At every turn.

Life is beautiful
Even when its fire burns out early and painfully.
Even when it is filled with disappointment and disgrace.
Even when it endures loneliness and despair.
Even when it is suffers from poverty and anguish.

Life is beautiful
And each one is unique.
Whatever form your life takes
Try to value and cherish it
For you could easily have never been.
Simply existing like dust in the wind.

Hernia

I hate that fucking word.
It’s the ugliest word in the English language.
I hated that word even before
I formed a hernia in my gut
From working long hours as a garbage man
And eating too much KFC and Taco Bell
And having too many injuries.
Now I have to get my gut sliced up
And cut out
To get rid of that damn curse
That follows me around.
Good riddance!

Star Dreams

At Comic Con
I can meet celebrities
And mingle with the stars.
They have what I desire
A rare currency called fame
An immortal slice of the American pie
Living life beyond their time.

I’ve got photos and signatures from
Nichelle Nichols and Billie Dee Williams
William Shatner and Neal Adams
George Takei and Ron Perlman
Hanging on my wall.

Every year I get to meet a few more
And feel like one of the crew
Shaking hands with the best
Immortality in the flesh.

So come meet me there and
Fulfill your dreams.
Celebrate Pop Culture
In style with you favorite
Movie Stars and
Comic Creators
Just one time a year.
You’ll never forget
Your time well spent.

No Boss Love

I have no love for bosses
So I fired them all
And became self-employed.
Now I am free.
No need to suck up to
A sucker.
No need to lick the boots
Of the beast.
The curse has been
Broken.
Four years of freedom now.
Not one day gone wrong.
No more awful days
At work since
Being on my own.

Police Surveillance

One of the problems with being a criminal today
Is that the forensics and technology that law enforcement uses
Are more sophisticated than most people realize.

I spoke with a cop at work and he told me
He had a license plate reader built into his vehicle that
Could read hundreds of license plates per minute
And that he knew
Everywhere I had been the last three days.

I believed he was telling the truth about the matter.
And he seemed like a decent enough guy
But it still felt creepy that he knew that.

After that I
Never looked at technology
The same way.

It seemed as if all this new
Technology and surveillance equipment
Built into our phones and elsewhere
Is the best babysitter and tattle-tale
The world ever devised.

No wonder there haven’t been
As many serial killers in the news lately.
The cops know everything about you.

So if your considering being a career criminal
Don’t think you can “get away with it”.
Law enforcement is watching us
More closely than we realize.

Culture Shock

I missed that small town Swedish vibe
When I arrived at Laguardia Airport.
That sense of not belonging in my own country
Lingered with me for several years
After I got back to the United States.

I had been overseas a bit too long
Living as an exchange student in my teens
And came home feeling lost in no-man’s-land
Neither here nor there in heart and mind.

It took awhile for the spell to wear off
That sense of not belonging.
For years I felt disoriented until
I had rediscovered myself again.

I am
A poet &
A writer
With a touch of Scandinavian spice
On an otherwise American dish.

If I could only have known that sooner.
It’s nice to come home again.

A Memorable Performance

I walked up on stage
To share my poetry for “Open Mic Night”
At a bar located in Downtown Cincinnati
In order to give them the freak show
That I thought they might want

I got up to the mic
In a nervous manner and
Looked down upon my drunken audience while
Speaking these words from my poem
“Escape to Insanity”
In a jittery manner:

“They say I am mad
That I am evil
And creepy
That my genes are corrupted
And my brain is deformed
That my actions are freaky
That my behavior is not the norm
They then ask me the question
“Sir why are you this way?”
I tell them as such:

“A genetic predisposition
An environment unsound
The reasons for madness
Don’t matter to me
For I believe
In the world
Of impossibility”

Wacko Schizo
Psycho and nuts
Call me whatever
I don’t mind
For I can escape
To a strange world
And leave you behind.

I’ve seen places from hell
with fires and flames
Of torture and madness
It’s name is taboo
Psychosis, psychosis
Does it scare you?

Madness, Madness
A self destruct button
That I pressed
Years ago
To blast off on a mission
To a planet
Where the aliens are free
To play with
My memories

Here things are different
Many say they are strange
Here it’s the “normals”
That are deranged
If you want to be different
If you want to be free
From logic and reason
Then come and meet me
On this strange planet called
Insanity”

After I finished I looked at the audience and received
No applause
Nothing
Just silence and
I stepped off the stage thinking
That my poetry was best not delivered
On a Tuesday night to a drunk audience

I seated myself at the bar stool and ordered
A beverage and burger relieved that the
Whole ordeal was over with when
The next guy took the stage for his comedy routine

He got up and started his act
Telling the audience that the
“Son of Sam” just gave a poetry reading
And I just stood there kind of mesmerized at
The whole scene as he disemboweled
Me before the audience over the next several minutes

I guess I should have just laughed with the audience
As he went on telling jokes about
Serial killers, the Unabomber and Homeless Bums
But there was a part of me that started to get angry
So I started laughing and clapping
At all the wrong times
And told the comedian that
Death was preferable to his torturous act

My verbal blows went on for some time
And eventually the comedian
Left the stage in an upset and defeated manner

The audience was so awestruck and upset
That I decided to quickly take my leave
In an abrupt and discreet manner

I eventually got home in one piece
Without bruises and
A new “adventure notch”
On my belt that left the audience
With a show they will never forget

*This happened several years ago at a pub on Main Street.

Sleep Asphyxiation

Reveries and dreams elude me
And I am left wishing to be
In the land where Morpheus resides
So he can fill me with dreams, sweet dreams

Many have mocked Morpheus
As a God unfit for the realm of the immortal
And yet my malady has brought me this wisdom:
Without his power of dreams every man, woman and child
Would be driven into delirium and madness

I Hope that one day this wisdom
Will bring him to cradle me in his arms
So that I may find myself restfully asleep
And dreaming sweet dreams in the land
Long forgotten

*This poem is inspired by my sleep disorder