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Fired from a job as a Cashier for a Healthfood Store for lack of ambition and speed (early poem)
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There is no blame; they did the right thing.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t lie . . .
Customers thinking themselves in a hurry,
but there is nowhere to go,
no reason to hurry . . .
Still, others see things differently
even though I know better
Failure hangs on me
like a cold wet T-shirt.
Copyright 2005 Buddha Bomb |
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Almost Perfect (early poem)
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She was Perfect,
Except for the Pimple,
On her Ass.
Copyright 2005 Buddha Bomb |
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Rich Man (early poem)
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Two dollars
no longer in debt
a rich man writes
this poem
Copyright 2005 Buddha Bomb |
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For Margot: there is no other way to dance (early poem)
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She said, “I don’t think we should dance this way . . .”
Hip to hip,
pelvis to pelvis,
lip to lip,
Grinding ‘Love sick blues’
bodies caressing drunk with no hindrance
somehow
loving each other
despite the chaos
or because of it . . .
“I really shouldn’t go home with you tonight . . .”
“. . . but I really like to dance this way . . .”
All I know is
there is no other way to dance.
Copyright 2005 Buddha Bomb |
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The pretty Lady by the pool (early poem)
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Her lovely body curled . . .
Head hanging . . .
delicate . . .
cheek to knee . . .
She is so Sexy
as she digs for dirt
under her toenails.
Copyright 2005 Buddha Bomb |
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Breakfast (early poem)
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Welcome in her chamber at night
In the morning apples in the porridge
Copyright 2005 Buddha Bomb |
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Haiku for Sarah (early poem)
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Listening to bird songs . . .
thinking only of spring snow,
and melting inside you.
Copyright 2005 Buddha Bomb
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For Sarah (early poem)
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Woman,
you are as Sky!
I sit
Quiet in Bottomless night
No longer a cloud.
Copyright 2005 Buddha Bomb |
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Good Clean Fun . . . With Claudia (early poem)
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In a Brooklyn New Yawk bathtub
Me . . . water . . . soap . . . Claudia . . .
Tender body glistening . . .
Long legs . . . inviting . . .
Cheeks . . . red . . . fiery . . . hot . . .
Eyes closed . . . moaning . . . pleasure . . . inside . . .
Joyful at my participation
I can do nothing . . .
But wonder . . . at this . . .
. . . Ecstasy.
Copyright 2005 Buddha Bomb |
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Retreat (early poem)
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Retreat hut window
defines empty sky
Birds sing the evening song
Many birds,
each with their own song
Now it is dark
and the birds are silent
A dog barks in the valley
Copyright 2005 Buddha Bomb |
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