Fat Crowds (poem)

Fat Crowds


I sit at the bar, cigarette in hand,
And worlds beyond:
Sultry skies mixed with sea hues of grey and blue
My brain sleeps, yet in that moment
I fuck desire.
Heed the writing on the walls.
As fat crowds fill the streets;
Searching for what?

I hold autumn close, squeezing her ass,
a pitiful tangle of dreams gather;
plastic gadgets for plastic people,
use your plastic card,
Where the inner self meets a soulless void
bickering lips suck champagne.
And fat crowds drain from the streets,
doors slamming.

My hot breath fights against the wind.
I walk the promenade, gliding
And gone.

Fat Crowds (poem)

Choice Starvation (poem)

A glimpse of perfection from stony blindness.
Trembling through the tenuous tension
of good and evil.
Respect me, I am a person,
my opinion matters.

External motivations are inherently worthless
Down the hatch.
But it's only cappuccino
Forcing the gates of symbolism,
Reflecting tender fears.

I hear you calling my name
grey moon above,
and midnight descends with
this poet’s tears.

Choice Starvation (poem)

Crush

Sometimes I wonder if I'll get through it~
this solitude foisted upon me by fate.

I wonder why she doesn't call me?
Must I do everything?
and nothing

Even when everything feels like nothing,
and nothing, everything?

Crush

Unsocked (poem)

T'was the night before day
folding laundry with care
I found bunches of socks
But no matching pair.

These stockings were hung in a bag on the door
a clever device where my socks could be stored.
But somewhere between being dirty & clean
the socks seperated and haven't been seen
when not long ago I had a full set
now I have stragglers and I'm so upset

I've searched behind the washer and dryer
I've searched down low then higher and higher
yet no matter where I look for these socks
I won't get to find them 'til one of them talks.

Then there's the mystery of changes in hue
one black one, one charcoal, one brown and one blue
They seem to match, except for the color
one keeps its brightness and another gets duller

When unloading them one always looks better
In spite of washing them all together.
Should I buy a new pack to solve all my troubles,
throw out the singles? or keep them for doubles?

How do I fathom the escaping attire?
where do socks go 'tween the washer & dryer?
And why only one of each pair disappears?
why don't they vanish along with their peers?

I suspect it's a plot by the sock industry-
If you keep losing one You'll buy new ones, you see.
I'm completely dumbfounded and left with no clue
as Unsocked mysteries Often will do

But They do go on feet (no riddle to unravel)
I suppose socks were just meant to travel.

Unsocked (poem)

A Proper Kiss (poem)

One might say she'd been around
the block a few times, while romance-bound
in search of an innocent charm she insists:
matching lips, for a proper kiss.

they had been short and tall and fat and slim
and she kissed every blessed one of them
but none of them offered her what she sought
the smooching seemed to be for naught

one was rough and one was wet
one was as sloppy as one could get
one was there and then was gone
one got worse as the kiss went on
another chapped her mouth and face
and pushed her pug nose out of place
and still another she'd have to say
was, "swab the deck and anchors away!"
but not a one was worthy, you see
to be what a proper kiss should be.

then thinking her quest to be fruitless and vain
she swore to never kiss again
and stopped in at a local pub
to toast her failure and in the club
was a young woman lounging at the bar,
seeking some solace, and not getting far,

a beer in her hand and a frown on her face,
saying, "Can i get a beer in this place?"
she sat down next to the frowning face.
A double-take, she took a look
And in her heart sank one big hook
The frown was melting as the barkeep served
the beer she needed to keep her nerve
and then she heard the frowner say
"It's on me" and the two shared a smile.
"Sit down, girlfriend, and stay awhile."
And so she did and halfway through the frosty brew
she found herself admitting to
a failure in finding one living soul
to kiss her proper, kiss her slow.
The other one held back a grin.
"I understand the dilemma you're in.
Forgive my boldness, dear,
but i have a solution, if you'd like to hear."

An answering nod gave her the nerve
and she said, "the reason those kisses don't serve,
is simple as this, i know we just met,
but you haven't kissed a woman yet."
And after the revelation sunk in,
she suggested the two of them go for a spin,
just a short ride
to a quiet place by the riverside
she sank into arms that held her fast and at last
as the sun was sinking low
A proper kiss was had by both.


Charcoal (c)Jae Baeli

A Proper Kiss (poem)