22 Hospital Poems
poem 1
when the needles puncture your skin you squeeze my hand tight
I see your tears, they are from the salt of this painful earth
which twists and turns illuminated by its spinning indifference
somehow we live through this i say again and again
I see the water and your eyes are the dams in this hospital
overflowing in this hospital talking and beeping
overflowing in this hospital whispers and rituals
in this hospital light of death, surrender to white
and why?
body machines precarious, unsteady
when the needle pierces your skin
your fingers are vice grips and the harder you squeeze
i feel the lightness leave my body
the weight of the world presses on us together
the weight of the world covers us calmly
both you and I were given something
which is not easily taken away without a fight
in your corner
you are not alone against the wall
you are not alone, trembling in fear
as the trees and earth tremble also
as the blood in others and earth rivers run wild
you are a hero without a choice
who demonstrates what its like
to hold yourself together in a whirlwind
and your soul illuminates the time
heartbeat to heartbeat
a constant reminder
that teardrops and smiles aren’t for nothing
its no big deal
we are just living, you say.
poem 2
life, lungs, exhaustion
hear your voice, glass fragile
eyelids half closed, half moon eyes still shining
“I say no to the drugs as much as I can”
but sometimes not and your words are then slow
and we find ourselves stuck in the hole of time with our slowness
and I hang onto your words like I hang on to your hands
and your hands are still soft and have a tight grip when the pain comes
when you were young in the hospital you held my hand like that and your hands were smaller.
you spoke to me without words with your creased face as you do now
and eighteen twelve ten two years ago
you wonder how long
your life is
you wonder how much
can a body take
how fast does time move and what does it leave behind?
and you wonder if you are still sane being in this room
with these doctors and their language
with these needles in your arms
with these medications uncertainties doubts
and for a week now
and no one knows. they only know how but not why
they say when it rains it pours and right now its pouring
and the clouds of our lives are heavy with moisture and ominous thunder and we are soaking wet.
we can see through each other now
we are all really transparent in this room
bodies raw and tired responding to life unconsciously
bodies saying more silently than our brains can understand
poem 3
green are the graves that fall from the trees
red is the rain that falls in our lives
lies are the wind that blows through our time
love is the howl that you hear in the night
love is the conflict
love is the fight
blue are the veins that are filled with disease
white are the seas that fall from your eyes
lies are the wind that blows through our time
love is the howl that you hear in the night
love is the curse
love is the light
gone are the days where your innocence lies
gone are the answers
gone is the mind
welcome the change where there is no control
love is the ghost
that lives in the soul
poem 4
it’s been scalpels and sutures here
o hidden anomaly of my brotherly soul!
its been rip apart open up tear out
through time caught thinking
second hands up!
hour hands up!
these words are now frozen
bats exit the clocktower
of this fluorescent heaven
and the fall begins
poem 5
so you can't even make it back
to los angeles
in an ambulance!
you're too dangerous to move
except a few miles
you want permanent morphine
and a vacation after this.
they got a helicopter for you even
but fuck that you said
not the scalpel either
ms. teary eyes mentions
you want a picture
of your heart during surgery
you want to see
the thing
(despite its strange nature)
that gives rise to the heat
inside your
bursting body
you want to see the nakedness
of the veiled muscle
that is your ticking paradox
of condensed energy
poem 6
world is made of matchsticks
the light is made by action
the stepping stepping stepping
echo footsteps of the monsters
they are walking inside the fragile world
I sing songs to these beings eternal
not the finite papers and loose tobacco
littering the confines of this place
or the covering cornering clouds
drip drip dripping the rain
not the far away heroes
in awe of the traces they make
pen on paper, knock on wood
I sleep with my mouth open
the empty space
awaits your breath
and the click of the light switch
makes the footsteps melt away
I step inside the echo chamber
and hear the murmuring
of the sleeping dogs of fate
growling soon will be morning
in this temporary midnight
poem 7
to society:
your collar is too tight
your walls are too thick
your coffee is too weak
in your dreams
you won’t let my sister
take off her shirt
in the hospital
the dog rips apart the mail
it’s snowing outside
and my tongue is stuck
to your frozen flagpole
it’s a stupid holiday
in america
where I lived once
our past is scarred
by the flash
of your secret camera
poem 8
hey old angel we meet again
in this rainy street alone
but this time I look at you
the colored walls of my mind
do not impress you
nor does the stupid dance
I do.
I do.
I do.
I give up.
your silence is frightening
my thoughts are tired
look at the pain
I am left with:
is it not important to you?
rain trickles down my face
haven’t taken a walk this long
in years
watched myself running away
and for the first time ever
I do not try to catch up
I cannot.
sit.
wait.
see the gaps form.
hey old angel
we dance in space
but only for
a moment
laugh with me now
laugh with me forever
poem 9
he was a melancholy man
his heart is in his hands
he waits and waits and waits
for you
he was a melancholy man
his mouth is open wide
sucking in the tides
of blue
he was a melancholy man
in a lost deserted time
the thoughts inside his head
are few
he was a melancholy man
he won’t get in your way
and his guitar won’t stay
in tune
he was a melancholy man
works and sleeps and eats
and the sun is shining bright
and new
he was a melancholy man
watches time slip away
and then there’s nothing left
to lose
poem 10
don’t know who I am anymore
don’t know who you are anymore
don’t believe in your beautiful world
don’t believe in your diamonds and pearls
if every future is built upon lies
speed up the clocks
so I can get mine alright
count down the hours
count down the days
and the hands that are slipping away
poem 11
energy flows from tears we are crying
energy loss from living to dying
energy lives in the truth and the lying
energy spent useless and sighing
fill in the holes
where we suck in our need
visions of excess
visions of greed
fill up the space
bloody river of time
visions of yours
visions of mine
energy used we are here we are there
energy moves and seems not to care
poem 12
appreciate
the mundane
there lies the secret
the most fascinating
thing to do sometimes
is just to sit there.
we don’t take anything
with us when we’re gone
we didn’t come here
with anything when
when we arrived
everything in the middle
figures itself out
despite us
raindrops falling
people running
watches ticking
shoes tapping
intercom talking:
doors are closing
we are not stuck anywhere
except inside the idea
of ourselves
poem 13
looking for the light to see
i waited in darkness
to make out a shape
my body
shivering brightly
movement blanketed gently
a letter from behind seeing
looking for the answers
i saw a million problems
coloring mind rainbows
its bright
but its fake
and burns out fast
i am held
and you don’t know it
but you are held too
we exist in this way
its not our hands
its the holding
that’s not trying
hearts beat
eyes blink
air moves
thru you
can we know how this works
really?
smile now
its alright
but not too seriously
poem 14
blasting sunlight thru the window and then words:
i pray with open arms for life to give me problems to solve perpetually
and for a dog while being walked to look at me with understanding eyes.
i pray with loose arms dangling at my sides and eyes fixed forward for intense curiosity
which is not annoying to others but introspective.
i pray i never figure out why i’m here and keep wondering forever.
i pray for every single cantankerous old man who stares at me meanly
yes i am younger dumber and more confused than you
i pray for everyone who is out of their mind and cannot get their feet on the ground
mine are not most of the time but keep walking. we still don’t get anywhere but keep walking
i pray for the dead rotting birds in the street runover by cars trucks buses
your smell a reminder of our cruelty and carelessness
grateful for the life that has been given and not taken away yet its twists turns somersaults
grateful for the coffee and its pickers and growers and makers
and myself the sipper that gets me through the day intensely
grateful for everyone who has not given up on this piece of life
sometimes driving downward far far into the ground
grateful for the earth spinning which gives us the impression of time which causes the wrinkles in our face
which makes us question decay and accept death
grateful for every useless activity anyone has ever done with complete attentiveness and abandon
grateful for people whom i love and who don’t necessarily love me back
but have taught me countless lessons on how to stumble through this life short sweet stupid
grateful for the nihilistic times where no one cares
possibly this abandonment has taught all of us lessons about why caring is important
grateful for a life that is given to this body without qualifications, instructions, guarantees, or anything
which controls or is controlled outside of this heart beating and this breath circling without my trying
grateful being given awareness of losing perpetually anything extra which is not given lightly by life itself
grateful for no control
grateful for nothing added to these achy bones vibrating mind pale hands tired eyes hungry heart
cast off heavy burdens!
cast off sticky demons of false night wanderings!
cast off straight conduits of information babble!
the real confusion is bigger than we!
it holds us calmly dreaming us awake
into the icy morning work day
embracing the moments
we have left
poem 15
suburban mayhem here
under the quiet and sad sun
a roach walks fastly
nowhere to nowhere
wafts of cigarette smoke
filter thru me like fresh air
not sure how i got here
also unclear about what happened
but how things are calm
in my cold mind
chest burning and tired eyes
back at the place where i fell apart
to fall apart again
as I watch everyone around
lose their mind in the wondering
there's no reason for this
actually it's for a sense of stopping
a sense of stopping something i can't stop
a place to sit around to smoke cigarettes
and watch things slow down
and after slowing down
to exist in the space there
it’s hot here
and i’m not sure
if its me
or the weather
sitting under the silent sun
burning to know
poem 16
Funny how the world works.
thoughts shifting constantly
lives’ existing precariously
though there’s really nothing to lose
we are given too much to understand what to do with.
spending time slow and fast
no, I won’t work for you anymore
making better decisions
I’m falling into the universe
it holds us in beautiful limbo
I’ll play guitar here forever
watching shadows
washing sheets
emptying trash
cooking food
cleaning up
had a thought about you
hope you’re well
happy hungry
hello sometime
sun shine in the haight
discerning circles and patterns
I am gentle and sitting
and my future is
uncertainly awesome
filled with the colors
that filter thru
my sunshine
brain
I call this turning around
things from all sides shown
healing in the holding on
healing in the letting go
poem 17
heres a letter to what lies ahead:
break apart this ocean of sound
it’s the air I breath
it’s the life that I take
before it’s given to me
break apart this dollar bill
it’s the time I had
it’s the one last thing I possess
before I’m free
let loose the lions
it’s the battered truth
it’s the one last wish
of a damaged life
understand these scars
of taking and giving
before you’re ripped apart
poem 18
kill my naked american mind
hungry for love
curse the earth that I walk upon
you know I can’t get enough
erase the space
erase the time
that give me room to grow
if there’s one last thing
that’s pure in the world
I’m gonna kill it
before you ever know
ever heard of the eight times three?
work sleep repeat
do it all over again
and you do it all over again
kill my naked american mind
hungry for love
poem 19
a response to a question:
No you are not crazy
a label like that will kill you
or at least bind you
to the other side
of what they call normal
which is just as bad
Why the insane label?
experience is life
and we act from it
hold on to
what has grounded you
little sister listen
bodies are bodies
and we are with them
always always
listen please
the air that breathes you
the heart that beats you
the pulse that shakes you
even in terrible pain
and thru insane thoughts
of near emergency
there is no reason to stop
the tears from falling
if they want to
and why don’t people listen
to tears?
is it because they are silent?
Wet and uncontrollable?
Salty like earth
and expressing
something real
when you least
expect it?
No you are not insane
sanity is a lie from the beginning
it’s for the people who
rationalize their lives
to adapt to their version
of what success is
it’s for people who live
without ever being interrupted
and who never let the world
change them
let go to know
where you are
forgive yourself for taking the time
to understand what has happened
to understand how people move
and how they are affected by violence
given the name surgery
it’s hard to not sugarcoat
what has happened to you
under the name medicine
they can fix our living bodies
but they cannot fix our broken minds
and it is not their fault
they are not paid to do that
for free we must do it ourselves
for free and taking all the time
we need
no you are not crazy
we all hold on together
sometimes its scary
other times its amusing
but pay attention
people’s words come and go
but you are with yourself always
turning and turning
with the world
in the cosmic glow
of perpetual creation
poem 20
Time, it’s not what you think
it’s what you know
and I don’t know that much
but I know what I love
and I know what I hate
and it’s kind of fun
and it’s kind of late
tell me are you the one?
no you’re not the one
cause I’m the one
that’s just split in two
now you’re talking to me
now I’m talking to you
got nothing to gain
got nothing to lose
dizzy from the pain
but I’m brand new
let me go now
because there’s nothing left
let me go now
I’m not who I am
poem 21
5:30 AM mantra:
turning mind
busy times
slowing down
hit the ground
your still alive
not much else
to know right now
filled with pain
slow release
hard to speak
hard to say
only walk now
and breath slow
leaving alone
what I don’t know
don’t know
don’t know
don’t know
(sunrise)
(goodbye)
poem 22
I know there’s a name for this but I forgot what it was.
maybe it’s a feeling of love but cautious, as I am now.
If you get close still our different experiences keep the distance between us
but do you not have a ticking time bomb
in your chest as do I?
still i been still so still now for months and what’s the payoff?
Nothing much. cigarettes: introspection. smoke fills my eyes
the occasional food and water.
One of the biggest mistakes we can make is assuming that
if we stick to our principles everything will be alright
actually everything will be and is alright regardless
but independent of our principles.
Do we set ourselves up against a world?
Do we want another world besides this one?
Do we take sides within a world?
bodies seem like missles
minds are arrows that point in directions
knowing when how what to act is hard
you got lovely scars:
all the people planning perfection ain’t got shit except the fear that they got something to lose
all the plans made to insure against disaster create disaster by setting up something not real
all the minds involved in creating a future not here gave us what we have now
when will we understand this?
fear exists inside of us sometimes
change is easy when directed by you
change is scary when it happens to you
scarier when you wake up everyday and forget why or how you are here
scarier still when people you care about tell you that you are doing fine.
scarier still when we all pretend we live in a world
where suffering is something to be brushed aside
to be hurried along
to be stamped out
instead of simply understood.
humans have agendas humans have projects humans have ideas
they are pulled around by voices
they are made silent by function
they are channeled into perfection
but by who?
No doubt during the most despairing year of my life, hope, of all things, was the catch phrase.
people believed in it, they voted for it, they told me to hope
to believe to access the good the future happiness which would one day be ours
hope is a yard stick for how powerless we feel ourselves to be.
the more hope, the more powerless you think you are.
look away from those who promise you something
look away from the words of those who say:
everything will be alright.
we don’t have to try to live in the now
we cannot escape right now
there is nothing we can do
the people that tell you everything is beautiful
the people that tell you to be here now
notice how they are not you
and notice how sure they are
but only on the surface level
they are the ones that cut themselves off
from the only world we have
they cannot accept what is happening now.
everything is now, in your worst moment
listen: it’s because we are still here. that’s all.
this is how we survive.
hope is for those that want improvement
hope is another brick in the wall of your ego
hope is the outer shell of a shivering soul
we all shake inside sometimes
shake now we are stronger than we think
it’s amazing how we can hold on
if we try to understand who we are
and what we can do
trust only in this changing and aging form of life
that one day will not be around anymore
not special, but very common
trust in what you pass through. it is the only thing we know.
rather than trying to figure out our vast world
and how much sense and non-sense it makes
you are held already.
you are here, everyone is here.
you are figured out
in this way.