TINY FLOWER
(a poem)
i looked down
but it was too late
my left foot crushed a
tiny purple flower
lying on the sidewalk
i was struck by the notion
how fleeting beauty can be
how fragile
i remembered
how crushed Audrey had been
when doctors took the breasts
she deemed
such a cornerstone
of her beauty
but she was wrong
she was even more beautiful
afterwards
she was even more beautiful
without them
they were merely a distraction
from the true core
of her gorgeousness
that part of her soul
which made my heart
beat faster
which made
everyone in the room
blissfully aware of her shining light
her blinding glow
if only she could know
like that tiny purple flower
on the sidewalk today
before it blew away
Monday, February 13, 2012
since the millennium: new poems
seth's poems 2000 - present
magnificent
i took
a picture of the moon
moments after we parted
to remember you
and the day
your incredibly red hair
shone back the sky's
magnificent colors
just after
sunset
`
path to nowhere
quiet
zen center
set amid sprawling
city of angels
buildings house souls
along the path to within
nothing could be
more perfect
except
nothing
`
clouds
it was one
of those days
when the clouds were
white puffy cotton candy
morphing
from one bizarre shape
to the next
look!
there’s eleanor roosevelt
eating a cookie...
wait!
now it’s mickey mouse
riding a donkey...
no, wait!
it looks like muppets
playing softball
with god...
`
zcla
just beyond
the shadow of banks
and other big buildings
serenity awaits
an
oasis
of spirit
nestled in
a quiet corner
of a sprawling metropolis
signpost on a path
to peace
through
practice
sit quietly
and it shall
be
revealed
`
washed up
he’s a
wanna be illuminati
driving around
in a beat up
ferrari
takes a fast left
onto la brea
thinking about the time
he had lunch
with the mayor
his ponytail flies
behind him in the wind
like the glory days
time so cruelly
rescinds
`
turncoat
i always thought
you had my back
that was a long time ago
before everything
turned black
`
whisper
it’s not that i think
god speaks to me
exclusively
i think god speaks to everyone
but
sometimes
it’s easier to listen
to
other voices
with more alluring tales
of wealth and glory
voices
that tell us
what we want
to
hear
`
misplaced anger
i punched
the refrigerator
although it had done
nothing wrong
in some small way
i think we both
felt better
or
at least
i did
`
helping hand
when you
dedicate yourself
to service
you are no longer annoyed
when someone needs your help
you are pleased to
spend your time helping
because that is
what you do
`
underground
we’re all
potential suspects
and victims
on the
subway
leery eyes leering
backpack to backpack
could this be
the day?
when we all
become famous
in the subway
`
pushing buttons
there are
so many ways
to look at a woman
she’s a giver of life
she'd make a hell of a wife
she’s a pure expression of yang
an umbrella against the rain
an infinitely complex
clitoris wrapper
or even a
clitoris rapper
if she
deftly drops
dope rhymes about
her magic pleasure button
over
phat beats
`
explosion
you should
let me get you off
with my finger
and my tongue
my teeth
my thumb
and then some
scratching all of your itches
touching you in places
you didn’t even
know existed
taking your soul
beyond resistance
unleashing explosions
of your very existence
your delicate pink lips
wrapped around my lips
my lips
wrapped around
your throbbing clitoris
every cell
every molecule
alive with the universe
my fingers are deep
up on your spot
you squirm and you bop
moaning “please don’t stop!”
then it’s my thumb
tickles your bum
your screams for god
tickle my eardrum
your fingers dig deep
into whatever they grasp
your toes curl
as you gasp gasp
g a s p
ethereal ecstasy
unsurpassed
you catch
your breath
at last
lying in a pool of sweat
and spent glory
nobody moves
waves wash over
glistening naked bodies
the room creeps slowly back
into existence
you’re
welcome
`
hula hoop girl
i think i’m in love with hula hoop girl
although i’ve only seen her once
from a distance
she brought some hoops and a boom box
to a nice park near venice beach
where i was sitting
just before
sunset
i guess she's
somewhat famous
i heard passers-by greet her warmly:
"hey there hula hoop girl, how ya doin`?"
she’s not quite perfect
(sometimes the hoops betray her)
but she’s damn close
if hula hooping
became an olympic event
she’d probably train hard
make the team
maybe even
bring home the gold
she presses play
out booms funky music
she begins to hoop
i’ve always
had a healthy respect
for those who excel at things
i cannot do
but
she’s not simply good
she has
developed it
into an artform
swoosh swoosh swoosh
she brings it up
from her knees
to her waist
to her neck
left hand out
right hand out
then just the neck
subtle movement
the hoop drops
to her chest
swoosh swoosh swoosh
effortlessly down
to her hips
she sways
in perfect synchronicity
with a cylindrical extension
of her soul
~
seth's room
magnificent
i took
a picture of the moon
moments after we parted
to remember you
and the day
your incredibly red hair
shone back the sky's
magnificent colors
just after
sunset
`
path to nowhere
quiet
zen center
set amid sprawling
city of angels
buildings house souls
along the path to within
nothing could be
more perfect
except
nothing
`
clouds
it was one
of those days
when the clouds were
white puffy cotton candy
morphing
from one bizarre shape
to the next
look!
there’s eleanor roosevelt
eating a cookie...
wait!
now it’s mickey mouse
riding a donkey...
no, wait!
it looks like muppets
playing softball
with god...
`
zcla
just beyond
the shadow of banks
and other big buildings
serenity awaits
an
oasis
of spirit
nestled in
a quiet corner
of a sprawling metropolis
signpost on a path
to peace
through
practice
sit quietly
and it shall
be
revealed
`
washed up
he’s a
wanna be illuminati
driving around
in a beat up
ferrari
takes a fast left
onto la brea
thinking about the time
he had lunch
with the mayor
his ponytail flies
behind him in the wind
like the glory days
time so cruelly
rescinds
`
turncoat
i always thought
you had my back
that was a long time ago
before everything
turned black
`
whisper
it’s not that i think
god speaks to me
exclusively
i think god speaks to everyone
but
sometimes
it’s easier to listen
to
other voices
with more alluring tales
of wealth and glory
voices
that tell us
what we want
to
hear
`
misplaced anger
i punched
the refrigerator
although it had done
nothing wrong
in some small way
i think we both
felt better
or
at least
i did
`
helping hand
when you
dedicate yourself
to service
you are no longer annoyed
when someone needs your help
you are pleased to
spend your time helping
because that is
what you do
`
underground
we’re all
potential suspects
and victims
on the
subway
leery eyes leering
backpack to backpack
could this be
the day?
when we all
become famous
in the subway
`
pushing buttons
there are
so many ways
to look at a woman
she’s a giver of life
she'd make a hell of a wife
she’s a pure expression of yang
an umbrella against the rain
an infinitely complex
clitoris wrapper
or even a
clitoris rapper
if she
deftly drops
dope rhymes about
her magic pleasure button
over
phat beats
`
explosion
you should
let me get you off
with my finger
and my tongue
my teeth
my thumb
and then some
scratching all of your itches
touching you in places
you didn’t even
know existed
taking your soul
beyond resistance
unleashing explosions
of your very existence
your delicate pink lips
wrapped around my lips
my lips
wrapped around
your throbbing clitoris
every cell
every molecule
alive with the universe
my fingers are deep
up on your spot
you squirm and you bop
moaning “please don’t stop!”
then it’s my thumb
tickles your bum
your screams for god
tickle my eardrum
your fingers dig deep
into whatever they grasp
your toes curl
as you gasp gasp
g a s p
ethereal ecstasy
unsurpassed
you catch
your breath
at last
lying in a pool of sweat
and spent glory
nobody moves
waves wash over
glistening naked bodies
the room creeps slowly back
into existence
you’re
welcome
`
hula hoop girl
i think i’m in love with hula hoop girl
although i’ve only seen her once
from a distance
she brought some hoops and a boom box
to a nice park near venice beach
where i was sitting
just before
sunset
i guess she's
somewhat famous
i heard passers-by greet her warmly:
"hey there hula hoop girl, how ya doin`?"
she’s not quite perfect
(sometimes the hoops betray her)
but she’s damn close
if hula hooping
became an olympic event
she’d probably train hard
make the team
maybe even
bring home the gold
she presses play
out booms funky music
she begins to hoop
i’ve always
had a healthy respect
for those who excel at things
i cannot do
but
she’s not simply good
she has
developed it
into an artform
swoosh swoosh swoosh
she brings it up
from her knees
to her waist
to her neck
left hand out
right hand out
then just the neck
subtle movement
the hoop drops
to her chest
swoosh swoosh swoosh
effortlessly down
to her hips
she sways
in perfect synchronicity
with a cylindrical extension
of her soul
~
seth's room
goldenyear: poems 1997-1998
p o e m s by s e t h
1997-1998
.
aloof
she moves like a cat
full of shyness
full of fear
sadness
of untold depths
reflects in her eyes
that look quickly away
from my offered smile
i will never know her
i will never hold her
but maybe someday
she'll shed her
tired
worn out
skin of sorrow
and maybe someday
she'll smile back
at someone luckier
than
me
~
chain
we think
we're so special
we think we are
at the very top
of the
food chain
but
the mosquito
that just bit my leg
disagrees
she says
the food chain is a circle
and every creature
is part of that circle
and no one is exempt
from the laws
(or the wrath)
of nature
and
as i quickly end her life
with a swat of my hand
i'm inclined
to agree
~
pension
get in good
a government job
so
in twenty
or thirty years
when your soul has dried up
from boredom and neglect
you can collect
one hell of a pension check
during your years
of hindsight
and
regret
~
illusion
we are
perfectly engineered
dna replicating
containers
organic chariots
for the
almighty genes
we are
their puppets
they are our creators
imperfect
selfish
alive
we
choose a mate
so they may breed
we exist
so
they
may survive
~
manhattan fading
out of the city
finally
i take my shoes off
tired toes caress soft grass
fallen orange leaves
as autumn approaches
eyes adjust
to clouds and trees
unfettered by concrete
and steel
ears find
crickets and wind
uninterrupted by honking horns
a tiny insect lands on my arm
and
i'm not sure which of us
is more surprised
that
i’m here
~
the sewers look the same
after
so many years
shedding childhood
i return briefly
to the small town
that shaped a young boy
so long ago
an old man
solemnly raking leaves
in the strong fall breeze
i have been here often
in my dreams
leaves fade slowly to brown
i can relate
wandering aimlessly
down sidewalks of my youth
distant memories of a forgotten life
swept away by eternal breeze
infinite decay
only the sewers look the same
(perhaps a bit smaller)
there's where Skeeter
buried a praying mantis
while it was still alive
there's where i
would sit alone at recess
watching the silly games
wanting to play
i look around
and they are gone
grass grows up to boarded windows
some trees are bigger
some trees are gone
quality of light
somehow faded
a futile game of what-ifs
retracing a child’s footsteps
blindly glimpsing ancient fears
clumsy memories of innocence lost
as it starts to rain
time to go home
this
isn’t home
~
hollow
tonight
it hit me
for the first time
in a long time
overwhelming loneliness
despair
sorrow beyond tears
i feel nothing
but alone
i feel nothing
but sadness
i
feel
nothing
~
a tree in winter
sitting
alone in the forest
watching a tree breathe
the planet's breath
deliberate
imperceptible
alive
leaves fall
from majestic barren branches
no heartbeat no breath
no life
if
i could
watch her
brave winter storms
without complaint
if
i could watch her
bending to the arctic wind
then i could watch her
bloom again
but
it is
not to be
a still
small voice
barely heard above the din
beckons me
back
to the land of palm trees
and movie stars
i
find myself
boarding a plane
destination points west
taking my seat
on the wing of the mighty chariot
thoughts turn to impending winter
false
destiny
~
35,000 feet over toronto
i can still taste you
on my skin
i can still smell you
on my clothes
i wonder
how things would have been
if i could have loved you
i wonder how things would be
if i had stayed
i look down
at the earth below
and
i wonder
~
potential
when i was a little boy
i heard alot
about my potential
i wasn't living up to it
i wasn't trying hard enough
i could do so much more
now that i am older
trying to do something with my life
all i hear is
no
you can't do that
don't set your sights so high
don't be so ambitious
don't try so hard
why
did everyone
have to change
just when i needed them
~
a billion neurons behind the curtain pulling levers
my brain
has the thought
that it is a collection of cells
working together
to ensure survival of the body
just another organ
just another part
of me
sometimes it thinks it's king
sometimes it thinks it's god
but it's only me
every thought
every emotion
every tear
every fear
everything is real
just don't look behind the curtain
~
something to tide us over until somebody figures out cold fusion
if we keep spending
half of our budget on defense
instead of
teaching our children
healing our sick
feeding our hungry
we will come to the point
in the not too distant future
where there is nothing left to defend
this is our country
we have to take it back
from the military industrial complex
we have to take it back from the oil companies
we have to take it back from a government out of control
they are the true enemies of freedom
not madmen across the water
human beings
they have families
they brush their teeth
they blink
they own corporations
they buy politicians
they control the planet
they see no profit in a balanced society
this
mindset
must
change
towards a civilization
where innovation benefits society
where energy sources are non-polluting
no longer a burden to our planet
a spiritual people
in balance with our world
at peace with
ourselves
~
a new censorship
politically correct blinders
handcuffing and gagging
free expression
only the narrowest truths are allowed
through the veil of lies
and smiles
nothing offensive
nothing honest
morally sanctioned speech
read from a script
don't think
for yourself
read from the script
don't think
for
your
self
~
infinite question
i live
in this universe
in this galaxy
in this solar system
on this planet
in this hemisphere
on this continent
in this country
in this state
in this county
in this city
in this neighborhood
on this street
in this house
in this room
in this body
systems of organs
made of cells
deciding what i will type next
each cell a servant
to the DNA
mighty molecule
made of atoms
who couldn't care less
sculpted from electrons
protons and neutrons
which are
made of quarks
and who knows what else
and what the hell
are quarks
made of
?
(strings perhaps, but what are the strings made of?)
~
forfeiting the game
the
decision to write
came upon me slowly
stealthily
playing gently with my mind
until one day
i decided i wasn't going to be a grocery clerk any more
so i quit my job
i filed bankruptcy
i dropped out of college
i locked myself in a room
with marijuana and miles davis
to peel back the layers
so many layers
for all to see
closing in
on the mysteries of the universe
the secret mind of god
writing it down
so
maybe
somehow
someone will understand
maybe even
you
~
cul-de-sac
communication took
a wrong turn somewhere
language
is supposed to express emotion
not repress it
after millions of years
developing crude syllables into complex language
we spend our lives
engulfed in a landscape of mass neurosis
blindly groping at each other
lost
in the deafening boom
technological evolution in a world unbalanced
where the scariest monster of all
is
truth
~
subway
she gets on
sits down at the other end of the car
our eyes meet
i quickly look away
she moves closer
why
does she
keep staring at me
she is so beautiful
she could have anyone she wants
why is she staring at me
in the commotion of the next stop
she ends up sitting just two seats away
reading "the fountainhead"
which i haven't gotten around to yet
but a friend says it's an amazing book
so i should say something to this incredible creature
who wants my attention
but
shyness wins again
it sits between us for a few miles
and forever
the doors open
people rush out
i make my escape
to the
concrete
world above
~
shreds of myself
emotion
pours out of me
onto the page
a blizzard wind
through a bare forest at night
i try hopelessly to suppress
these fears
tearing through me
leaving shreds of what's left
skin crawling
itching
burning
i scratch in vain
i drink more
smoke more
type more
coaxing the monsters
out through my fingertips
exposing them for all to see
this person
staring back from the mirror
hiding behind these words
struggling desperately
against the
eternal question
who
am
i
~
seth's room
1997-1998
.
aloof
she moves like a cat
full of shyness
full of fear
sadness
of untold depths
reflects in her eyes
that look quickly away
from my offered smile
i will never know her
i will never hold her
but maybe someday
she'll shed her
tired
worn out
skin of sorrow
and maybe someday
she'll smile back
at someone luckier
than
me
~
chain
we think
we're so special
we think we are
at the very top
of the
food chain
but
the mosquito
that just bit my leg
disagrees
she says
the food chain is a circle
and every creature
is part of that circle
and no one is exempt
from the laws
(or the wrath)
of nature
and
as i quickly end her life
with a swat of my hand
i'm inclined
to agree
~
pension
get in good
a government job
so
in twenty
or thirty years
when your soul has dried up
from boredom and neglect
you can collect
one hell of a pension check
during your years
of hindsight
and
regret
~
illusion
we are
perfectly engineered
dna replicating
containers
organic chariots
for the
almighty genes
we are
their puppets
they are our creators
imperfect
selfish
alive
we
choose a mate
so they may breed
we exist
so
they
may survive
~
manhattan fading
out of the city
finally
i take my shoes off
tired toes caress soft grass
fallen orange leaves
as autumn approaches
eyes adjust
to clouds and trees
unfettered by concrete
and steel
ears find
crickets and wind
uninterrupted by honking horns
a tiny insect lands on my arm
and
i'm not sure which of us
is more surprised
that
i’m here
~
the sewers look the same
after
so many years
shedding childhood
i return briefly
to the small town
that shaped a young boy
so long ago
an old man
solemnly raking leaves
in the strong fall breeze
i have been here often
in my dreams
leaves fade slowly to brown
i can relate
wandering aimlessly
down sidewalks of my youth
distant memories of a forgotten life
swept away by eternal breeze
infinite decay
only the sewers look the same
(perhaps a bit smaller)
there's where Skeeter
buried a praying mantis
while it was still alive
there's where i
would sit alone at recess
watching the silly games
wanting to play
i look around
and they are gone
grass grows up to boarded windows
some trees are bigger
some trees are gone
quality of light
somehow faded
a futile game of what-ifs
retracing a child’s footsteps
blindly glimpsing ancient fears
clumsy memories of innocence lost
as it starts to rain
time to go home
this
isn’t home
~
hollow
tonight
it hit me
for the first time
in a long time
overwhelming loneliness
despair
sorrow beyond tears
i feel nothing
but alone
i feel nothing
but sadness
i
feel
nothing
~
a tree in winter
sitting
alone in the forest
watching a tree breathe
the planet's breath
deliberate
imperceptible
alive
leaves fall
from majestic barren branches
no heartbeat no breath
no life
if
i could
watch her
brave winter storms
without complaint
if
i could watch her
bending to the arctic wind
then i could watch her
bloom again
but
it is
not to be
a still
small voice
barely heard above the din
beckons me
back
to the land of palm trees
and movie stars
i
find myself
boarding a plane
destination points west
taking my seat
on the wing of the mighty chariot
thoughts turn to impending winter
false
destiny
~
35,000 feet over toronto
i can still taste you
on my skin
i can still smell you
on my clothes
i wonder
how things would have been
if i could have loved you
i wonder how things would be
if i had stayed
i look down
at the earth below
and
i wonder
~
potential
when i was a little boy
i heard alot
about my potential
i wasn't living up to it
i wasn't trying hard enough
i could do so much more
now that i am older
trying to do something with my life
all i hear is
no
you can't do that
don't set your sights so high
don't be so ambitious
don't try so hard
why
did everyone
have to change
just when i needed them
~
a billion neurons behind the curtain pulling levers
my brain
has the thought
that it is a collection of cells
working together
to ensure survival of the body
just another organ
just another part
of me
sometimes it thinks it's king
sometimes it thinks it's god
but it's only me
every thought
every emotion
every tear
every fear
everything is real
just don't look behind the curtain
~
something to tide us over until somebody figures out cold fusion
if we keep spending
half of our budget on defense
instead of
teaching our children
healing our sick
feeding our hungry
we will come to the point
in the not too distant future
where there is nothing left to defend
this is our country
we have to take it back
from the military industrial complex
we have to take it back from the oil companies
we have to take it back from a government out of control
they are the true enemies of freedom
not madmen across the water
human beings
they have families
they brush their teeth
they blink
they own corporations
they buy politicians
they control the planet
they see no profit in a balanced society
this
mindset
must
change
towards a civilization
where innovation benefits society
where energy sources are non-polluting
no longer a burden to our planet
a spiritual people
in balance with our world
at peace with
ourselves
~
a new censorship
politically correct blinders
handcuffing and gagging
free expression
only the narrowest truths are allowed
through the veil of lies
and smiles
nothing offensive
nothing honest
morally sanctioned speech
read from a script
don't think
for yourself
read from the script
don't think
for
your
self
~
infinite question
i live
in this universe
in this galaxy
in this solar system
on this planet
in this hemisphere
on this continent
in this country
in this state
in this county
in this city
in this neighborhood
on this street
in this house
in this room
in this body
systems of organs
made of cells
deciding what i will type next
each cell a servant
to the DNA
mighty molecule
made of atoms
who couldn't care less
sculpted from electrons
protons and neutrons
which are
made of quarks
and who knows what else
and what the hell
are quarks
made of
?
(strings perhaps, but what are the strings made of?)
~
forfeiting the game
the
decision to write
came upon me slowly
stealthily
playing gently with my mind
until one day
i decided i wasn't going to be a grocery clerk any more
so i quit my job
i filed bankruptcy
i dropped out of college
i locked myself in a room
with marijuana and miles davis
to peel back the layers
so many layers
for all to see
closing in
on the mysteries of the universe
the secret mind of god
writing it down
so
maybe
somehow
someone will understand
maybe even
you
~
cul-de-sac
communication took
a wrong turn somewhere
language
is supposed to express emotion
not repress it
after millions of years
developing crude syllables into complex language
we spend our lives
engulfed in a landscape of mass neurosis
blindly groping at each other
lost
in the deafening boom
technological evolution in a world unbalanced
where the scariest monster of all
is
truth
~
subway
she gets on
sits down at the other end of the car
our eyes meet
i quickly look away
she moves closer
why
does she
keep staring at me
she is so beautiful
she could have anyone she wants
why is she staring at me
in the commotion of the next stop
she ends up sitting just two seats away
reading "the fountainhead"
which i haven't gotten around to yet
but a friend says it's an amazing book
so i should say something to this incredible creature
who wants my attention
but
shyness wins again
it sits between us for a few miles
and forever
the doors open
people rush out
i make my escape
to the
concrete
world above
~
shreds of myself
emotion
pours out of me
onto the page
a blizzard wind
through a bare forest at night
i try hopelessly to suppress
these fears
tearing through me
leaving shreds of what's left
skin crawling
itching
burning
i scratch in vain
i drink more
smoke more
type more
coaxing the monsters
out through my fingertips
exposing them for all to see
this person
staring back from the mirror
hiding behind these words
struggling desperately
against the
eternal question
who
am
i
~
seth's room
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