night-wolf

—

invisible to human eyes

i silently stalk the earth

without moonlight

without malice

but with tremendous hunger

—

i seek flesh.

i leap upon ovine prey

that bleats helplessly

and gurgles its last

as onyx jaws crush windpipe

—

as life leaves its body

my blood thrills.

—

teeth rip carcass

and i am nourished

as my mate joins me;

we feast together

and our howls outflow

with abandon

after we are sated

—

we call out to our kind

who also revel in the hunt

and my mate vanishes

to do her own

secret work.

—

i am again left only with

my four limbs

and gnashing teeth

—

to search out more

unfortunate sheep

and liberate them

from oblivious lives.

—

 

 

 

—

GJK

21,22 FEB 2012

(for the new moon)

satori

—

i am at peace

with myself

—

i am at peace

with everything

this nineteenth night

of february

in the year 2012 a.d.

i am at peace in the night

when neighbors sleep

and dogs yelp their answers

to coyote call

and i pray for wolf

to howl

but there is only me

so i smile a silent howl

of my own

i om

and it is clear

above beyond and within

that i am my own

at one with all that draw breath

i am here

alive

and that is enough.

—

i know very little

but of this i am sure –

time is not a line

it is a circle

and i am at its center.

you are at its center.

time does not rule us

it encircles us

it is not a cage

but rather an embrace

and being all around us

it cannot be divided.

regret and pride are illusions

as are fear and hope

so i am free

you are free

liberty exists within

without striving or grasping

it can be had when thinking

and doing cease

i say again

i am at peace.

—

the problem never was drunkenness

or high-ness or shroom-ness

the problem never was uppers

downers or nicotine

these are all symptoms

of a basic need

these are all external fuels

of the simplest disease

the problem never was

outside of me

it was only

desire

itself.

—

i am at peace

because it is effortless.

—

i have done nothing

but open my eyes

—

nine years ago i woke up

for the first time

then i forgot

i flailed and splashed

without awareness

and then i remembered

to stop trying and let my self

drown.

—

now i sit on the riverbed

unperturbed by the unstoppable force

of the current; the fear of death

is gone and i rise to the surface,

laughing.

—

nothing can harm me

nothing can harm you

we are a oneness

—

i am at peace today

i see

i hear

the entirety

in my own

raspy breath.

—

 

 

GJK

19FEB12

i am a caged animal

Reblogged from poems by GJK:

— pacing the floor of the food-room but there is no two-legger anywhere in sight — i pace with tummy rumbling wondering where the giant people have gone. — i do not know how long it has been since they left all i know is my hunger and, powerless to open the food-jug, i wait. — those giants never tell me when they will return they never tell me much of anything except YOU’RE SO CUTE… YOU’RE A SWEETIE, AREN’T YOU? and WHY DO YOU KEEP FOLLOWING ME? — so i pace and i wait. — i know i am loved but …

in defense of body odor

—

i know many people find natural bodies

without aid of chemical-laden deodorants

repulsive, and i understand

but i will not go along blindly,

i just won’t.  it isn’t polite

but so what?  there are plenty of other

senses and i look okay, i mostly

keep quiet, there’s no need

for anyone to touch me

or lick me

so if all i am doing

wrong

is stinking

then i say again

so what?

—

i’ll tell you what i find offensive –

nearly every time i enter a public place

like a restaurant or a store of any type

i am assaulted by horrible music –

terrible, ugly, banal, abrasive music

that is designed, not for anyone to like,

but for no one to dislike so much

that it disrupts their eating or shopping.

well let me tell ya

it offends me.

—

music is my thing, aural perception

is my forte, and it pains me

to endure some of the most vile music

in the world just to get served

some steak or some greens

or get coffee on the fly

but that’s fine

i don’t need to be served

i can prepare my own food

but of course

the grocer too

insists upon playing wretched music-like

abominations of sound

so my dinner often has a tinge

of disgust in it

unless first i can wash my ears

with silence or music of some substance

so i do not apologize for stinking

in public from time to time.

—

if my stench offends, i will only see you

in passing and you’ll figure out a way

to forgive me or forget it

or you’ll hang on to it

and tell your people all about the guy

at the store that smelled like a pile

of moldering gym socks

either way i don’t care

you’re a grown-up

you can do

as you see fit.

but i’m not sorry.

—

why would i apologize for being myself?

and trust me, if you want to tell me to my face

that i stink, go right ahead.

a few years back a young friend of mine

i had been spending lots of time with

said to me in my car,

dude, before we do anything else today

we need to go to your house so you can

wash up and change your shirt.

and i thanked him for having the courtesy

to tell me that my stink was bugging him.

i live with my stink,

i like it, so i don’t know

when a little muskiness has turned into

outright disgusting pit-funk.

how refreshing it was to get called out

on it by a friend!  so you, a stranger,

can tell me i stink and i’ll probably

laugh and say,

okay, i know, thanks, by the way

i think you’re wearing too much make-up.

or too much cologne, or whatever it is

i think about you on first sight.

as long as we’re strangers being candid

then no one has any reason to be upset.

we’ll walk away from each other

equally amused and the only real crime

will have been the horror-show

of the store’s satellite radio feed

chipping incessantly away at my

peace of mind.  if i knew that you

hated the music too then maybe

we could be friends.

—

all because i refuse to play along

with the silly game of unnatural

odor-obsessed politeness

and you had the guts

to confront me.

—

GJK

13FEB12

don’t ask

—

if you’re not prepared to hear the answer

you best not ask the question

—

why you keep askin’ questions

just to ignore

every bit

of sense

you hear

—

stop calling me

you don’t want my advice

you just want me to tell you

you’re right

—

but you’re not

and i won’t.

—

get over your self

get over your life

get out of your own way

and stop whining about

what it is you need

want and deserve

—

all i know for sure is

you talk too much

and listen

too little

—

give me a break

do me a favor

and forget

my number.

—

 

 

 

GJK

13FEB12

$

—

her keys clack into the vortex

embattled by dissonance and hypocrisy

and what flings itself out is a burst

of violent shimmering money

succulent somnolent vital

money

—

as mine attack the matrix

embittered by injustice

and perceived shortcomings

of self and others

and what combusts

is what i’m left with.

what combusts becomes ash

and i wash myself in it

—

my gray hands clasp hers

and bounty is shrouded.

—

her pains become jewels

and mine are to keep

the thieves

the ignorant

the befuddled

the unbalanced

away.

—

　

　

GJK

9FEB12

flight from the matrix

–

the knives stabbing my knee

and neck

ought to be enough

to tell me

to stand up and move around

a wee bit

–

walk stroll weave bound

find a melody in the engines

without and within this dwelling

get up punk

move yr ass

but no no no

i’m hurling myself thru the matrix

clicking and buzzing

i’m not breathing

my knee is on fire

get that fucking albatross

off yr lap son

yeah okay just one more thing

i’ll just click here

and close this

and fuck

it’s frozen

again

the quarks are sending up sparks

again

so i shut it down

–

and start back up!

why am i not eating

i am ravenous

this machine is so sparkly

and inviting

in it i am unbound

but that’s only mind

this machine binds my body

oh you sneaky little bastard

i love

i hate

the matrix

i love

i hate

this machine

but fuck those knives

smash the screen

amble to the kitchen

and eat

you moron

you excitable beast

you gorgeous man

you writer-in-second-person

you better get back

to calling you i.

–

　

　

GJK

8FEB12

i am alone

—-

i am alone in the diner

in the back corner as usual

and by alone i mean

there are no other customers

i hear the cook and waitress

gossiping away in the kitchen

as if they are unaware

i can hear them

as if i’m not here

which is fine

because i’m not here

i am nowhere

i am not even me

i am a flesh-pile that breathes

i

i

i is devoid of meaning.

but the point is that

the teeming masses

in this tiny hamlet

are all, apparently, at home

or in taverns and bars

watching football.

important football.

the playoffs!

THE CONFERENCE CHAMPIONSHIPS,

in fact.

and it is good and right

that they are doing

what they are doing

the football on TV

the beer

the booze

the bratwurst

the filial love found between

fellow fans,

though few would admit it’s love,

oh it is good and right

and fine

and what could anyone expect

in January in Wisconsin

except perhaps that it rained today,

curious that, but football

is wonderful

as are predictable people

and mob mentality.

—-

the decaf is disappearing

from the mug

on the table

(the decaf? can you believe it?)

the fingers gently scratch

the chin whiskers

it is quiet,

now,

the voices are gone.

more decaf appears

in the mug

on the table

without please or thank you

it is good

it is quiet

it is calm.

—-

　

　

GJK

22JAN12

knowing now

—

knowing you

are sleeping serenely

in our bed,

in the bed that came to us

not from a store

but from the spare room

of that beloved old lady’s apartment

where you spent so many nights

without me,

makes it sometimes tumultuous

when sleep eludes me

and i pace quietly

unsure of what to do

with myself

—

knowing you

slept in that bed

less than ten steps

from my grandmother

as she lived on in those last

few years

before the day

that she stopped living

makes it melancholic for me

now

remembering nights i spent

drunk alone, here,

in this dwelling

that neither of us

truly feels is home

—

nights that found me on the floor

cradling my skull in my elbow

rocking myself not to sleep

but to whatever heartache

or reverie i could muster

with my face inches from the speakers

ears enthralled by

whatever hero of mine

i could lay my hand on

without moving the bulk of my

sodden flesh

—

knowing now

how heartless i was,

how vacant my being

in those squandered years,

pains me sorely.

how horrible it was exactly

i cannot recall

—

but that has passed,

that shade of a man

that was me

that now i can barely recognize

—

that has passed on into

an unknowable beyond

as has she,

that old woman

we both loved

as matriarch and teacher,

that stern and tender worrier

you also counted as friend

—

knowing now

that knowing doesn’t matter

—

only that we have

each other

still.

—

so sleep now,

as i pace this floor

and stumble humbly forward

through this baffling

sober mind

with its minefield of memories

—

sleep now

as i stand vigil

—

sleep now

in this imperfect refuge.

—

　

GJK

2FEB12

the problem is

—

there aren’t any drugs left

not the ones i want

anyhow

i am bereft

my guts ache for

a time and place

irretrievable

mind screaming for languor and release

from constant contracting worries

i forget to breathe

i want whiskey goddammit

want weed

LSD

AMT

anything

get me out of here!

disgusted by life

by the world

by myself.

the problem is

always the same.

—

　　

GJK

21JAN12

my mind is

—

my mind is a swarm of

i do not know,

blistered, bleak, beleaguered

rotten soft and ashen,

sullied, defiled

somehow sometimes joyous

—

my mind is a beetle

a bug

a god damned bug

—

(a miraculous boot-heel thunders down)

—

the beetle doesn’t -

the beetle can’t -

understand.

—

shattered,

i begin.

—

　

GJK

13JAN12

home bound

—

tearing down my walls

one sinkful at a time

i have learned these chores

of keeping a home

are indeed an act of love

—

i have watched a smile bloom

with each load laundered and folded

—

i am beginning to be

a home-maker, and

for the first time,

without a festering resentment

and guilt that i am not the one

bringing home the bacon

but i can tell you now

i finally understand what it is

to be a husband.

—

i too am a dishrag

but for me it is new

i still wear a grin about it

even as i scrub cat-puke from the carpet

and shovel the driveway

even as i write this

i grin

as my back groans

—

i refuse to bemoan my own shortcomings

i’m letting go

of worry

of regret

—

i’m letting go

and letting you know

i haven’t forgotten laughter or smoke,

or arduous lessons learned

in frozen forests and forsaken back roads

i haven’t forgotten

—

and i ask of you only

to carry on

in your way

—

in that way which i admire

and

have learned

so much

from.

—

i have some joy for you,

i hope to soon deliver.

—

GJK

31JAN12

3:36am

awake

—

coffee-jitter brain-buzz muscle-clench

cigarette-cough knee-bounce

meditation-lapse

—

awake

with nothing

to do

—

i am

completely

clutter-minded

—

awake

with nothing

to do

—

　

　

GJK

20OCT10

 

nothing

—

the beat is in me it is my heart

the beat is in you it is yours to keep

or share as you see fit

the beat is us

we are united

because we are human

because we are mammal

because we are animal

because we are spirit

—

the beat is also in stone and tree

it is in everything you have ever seen

or could ever imagine

—

the beat is in soil and plant

the beat is vegetable too

and all of this is simply

another way to say

you are what you eat

and even more than that

you are what you perceive

—

so you are everything

and i am everything

—

and in the larger scheme

we are nothing

—

we are nothing together

—

there is therefore

not a single thing

to worry about

—

ha

so this is it

you and me together

wound tightly together

by these small words

—

　

GJK

14OCT10

5:35am

 

the worst

—

this smoke

that plumes

up from

my lips

is the

worst smoke

i’ve breathed

in forever.

this smoke

is full

of self-

loathing and

tremendous guilt.

i hate

this feeling.

what can

i do

to make

it disappear?

the answer

is nothing.

—　

　

GJK

12OCT10

 

the f word

—

so today

i lost my head

and muttered f u c k a bit too loudly

i sputtered

and uttered

that profane word

with venom in my heart

—

i was lost

for a few minutes

after that

—

i was full of regret

i was un-centered

i was wrong

—

so i

took a ride

and stomped on the accelerator

i beat that engine

i pounded on it

as a way of beating on

my self.

—

and now it’s over

—

but still

i feel

like

shit.

—

　

GJK

12OCT10

fog tried to swallow us (via poems by GJK)

…

by the time we hit the menominee county countryside i had let intuition take over and the vehicle was more or less driving itself. a missed turn off of 557 was either due to fog or the fact that i wasn't in the present i wasn't in control i was in the past in thrall of the moon. in the buick with the moon nearly full, i was in mind of me with michael me with maus me with lanuh me with whoever wherever the moon led. i lost sight of you for a time … Read More

via poems by GJK

bread (via poems by GJK)

…

  i am stunned by your tenacity. what may appear to the deluded masses as meager accomplishment i know to be, and see in you, constant victory. you are the champion of my life because all the get-what's-mine materialists are the detritus upon which you tread. the bread on the table and the butter in the cupboard was bought with your care, your clarity, your wisdom. we want for nothing because you get what we need. you get it, in every sense of th … Read More

via poems by GJK

two

—

if you ask me

to close the door between us

—

i will say

no

—

because i can stop my noise

any time

—

i would rather hear you breathe

than listen to

—

australian country music.

so i refuse

—

your request

because i love you.

—

i would rather hear

our keyboards rattling together

—

than hear mine

prattling alone.

—

so here it is -

an open door

—

and a poem

for you.

—

　

　

GJK

12OCT10

 

 

behind us

—

i have noticed a change in me

and i have noticed a change in you

—

we seem to be brighter

and more buoyant,

we seem less distressed

when things go foul

—

or when chaos runs amok.

—

like today, when our lunch plans

got fucked up, we didn’t rant

and rave or behave like

little children

—

we simply bore it

for a minute

then let it

disappear.

—

trouble?

no, there is no trouble.

—

only one errant thread

in the blanket

that is us

—

only one speck

on the lens

of our life.

—

we are full of light,

you and i

—

and we have left

the despair and ennui

behind us.

—　

　

GJK

11OCT10