Archive for March, 1993

A Fight by my Apartment

Posted: March 30, 1993 in Poetry
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I jumped into a ring of people
with a big friend to save the girl
who was elbowed in the steeple
of her nose – on purpose
by some insensitive ape
(the kind that argues justifiable rape)
who was full of muscles.
hit in the eye, though I ducked,
my buddy got up and knocked him down
and then I wobbled my way home
– sort of glad the guy was fucked:
men just don’t hit girls.

a little ice in a washcloth,
six aspirin and a cigarette
helps take the edge off
the pain of a swollen eye,
but not the sad disgust and pity
that I feel for that guy.

I’m sorry
I’m sorry
I’m sorry.

A Poem for Me

Posted: March 28, 1993 in Poetry
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a leaf falls from a tree
so that it may grow stronger;
healthy without its burden
of dead weight this tree
will rise to higher heights.
and me,
without my dead leaves
will also soar as high.

m-i-k-e on the m-i-c

Posted: March 27, 1993 in Poetry
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c’mon I see you jump around and your skirts fly high
and you’re asking yourself if I’m that type of guy.
you’ll never really know until you give me a try
but I know I get funky, so why should I lie?
you see you know I’d love to love you if you’d let me in
and I know you ain’t just staring at the jeans I’m in.
[Hey Ladies!] …you know I respect you -beastie boys
I’ll ask you first before I jump up and sex you.
you give me the sweats and you give me the chills;
I’d love to come play on your Blueberry Hills –
I’d like to wine you and dine you and treat you just like a queen
I’ll go heat up the Cheeze Whiz™ if it’ll make you scream.
I go through the fridge to pull out all sorts of treats
I’ll treat you better than Mickey Roarke did in 9 and 1/2 weeks:
to rank a likkle Roger in the rub-a-dub style
I’ll bring Cormick to bus drive if it’ll tickle your smile.

Okay so here’s a likkle groove to make you move your pants
‘cause I love to watch all the girls [dance…dance] – MARRS
the only thing better than bumpin’ the beat is a kiss
so excuse me for a moment while I go [get up on this!] – M
all I really want to do is get to know you;
if you don’t understand what I mean, then I’ll show you,
and that doesn’t mean going home to jump in the sack
– especially if one or the other has drunk a six-pack.
put your feet in my lap and I’ll rub your calves;
you give me a chance and I’ll make you laugh.
I won’t hoard you like a prize or put you up on a pedestal.
I treat you like my friend and I’ll hope it’s reciprocal.
we’ll take a walk on the beach and I’ll pour you some wine.
I’ll do everything to make your experience fine.
If you approve of my mood then you can give me a kiss
and then by the fire with Marvin Gaye’s greatest hits
we can snuggle and cuddle, eat dinner and read.
if you want to spend the night just tug on my sleeve.
you can do what you want to do – nothing is wrong.
you can go to sleep in my arms [all night long] – Kool Moe Dee

I saw you give me a wink so I think I’ll say hi
and hope that you don’t turn away ‘cause you’re shy.
I might look imposing but I’m no superstar
and I’m interested in getting to know who you are
I like your smile and your eyes and the way that you move
and I like that fact that you bump to my groove;
you can stay there all night looking over your cup
or you can dance on over and I’ll fill you up.
my name is Mike, I’m known as DJ Lurk
and there’s nothing more annoying than a hesitant flirt.
time’s ticking away – I can here the clock
and I don’t just want to get up under your smock.
it’s up to you, girl; you got to believe
or else you can just have fun cold watching me leave.
if you don’t like what you see just park it and sit it,
‘cause if you want to get with me than come here and [hit it!] – Ricky D

Another Song for a Cure

Posted: March 26, 1993 in Poetry
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when the sun sets and the lights come out
in the beachfront homes I walk alone
to clear my head and cut the sting
of the thoughts the end of the day brings
they swim alongside my walk, my pace
a school of dolphins who splash my face;
I don’t always enjoy what they do to me,
making me think things over carefully –
it is they who really write my poetry.

I never knew how much I cared
for anything – not until I finally dared
to lose it all by telling the truth
seeing what came out when I opened my mouth.
I’m still waiting for the water to clear,
for the echoes to fade so that I can hear
what I’m doing and what I’ve done so far;
with what monsters I must continue to spar,
the attention I give to particulars…

Song for a Bedsheet

Posted: March 24, 1993 in Poetry
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I am really wondering if I’m lying to myself – you see
I’m good at what I do and that’s lying to myself.
Oh I hurt and I’m torn and don’t know what to I can do
I need to talk-to-a-certain-someone and that one is myself

when does it end? all the questions and waiting
for the time to come when it has worked itself out;
I can’t stand the surprises, both the good and the bad.
I think I crave some stability – this now I can do without

…and my heart strains and pulls
– my mind says we’ll be alright
but I find I can’t hold on to it all now, tonight.
am I losing control? do I want to? I might,
my senses shrieking away – my hands clenched too tight.

I think I’m falling and falling –
I haven’t moved; I’m right here.
I remember when I went crazy,
I laugh at when I was clear.

I know I’ll continue at slugging away through the days
staying broke, lost and hopeless, just counting the ways
and the time that I spend, I record it and write
until I can’t stand my pen and I turn off the light.


Posted: March 23, 1993 in Poetry
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floating cold down a river
full of rocks and branches
on a little ring of rubber tubing –
it’s supposed 2 B lots of fun
but that’s where I got this bruise.
it still hurts;
I still limp.

Fa the Baby

Posted: March 23, 1993 in Poetry
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I want to keep you forever, Fa –
you are a reminder of
my wonderful history with her
and you have never changed.
you, covered in lasting kisses,
big blue eyes made of waves
and ocean breadths –
you know where my spoon ring went.