What I Know

The other day you told me

That I knew everything and

That you loved it.

I think it was because I knew

That Iranians speak Farsi and are

Not considered an Arab People.

I think this came up because

We were discussing the nationality

Of Khalil Gibran. (He was Lebanese in case

You didn’t know. I didn’t.)

Yes I know a lot of things,

But foremost amongst these things

That I know is that despite all of them

I don’t know that much.

Largely I’ve absorbed things

That much cleverer people than I

Have figured out originally, before

The age of google.

Not particularly flattering to myself

I know, but it’s a huge timesaver.

Regardless of my semi smart status

In this simian society I’m glad that you

Like that I know things. I’m glad you

Know things too.

Right now, paddling languidly about

On this freighter off the coast of Milwaukee

Here is what I know.

I know that I like the way your hair smells

And the way your lips taste.

I know that despite this I don’t

Know you that well.

I know that I want to get

To know you better.

I know that this job makes

Having a ground presence with the

People and things that are important

To you harder than it should be.

I know that this sucks.

I know I can take it.

I know I will be home again soon.

I know that no matter how distant,

My friends and family will be

There when I get back.

I know that I will always come back.

So, I'm using my mobile hotspot to upload this from Lake Michigan.

It's rough but I had fun with it.

 After 32 days on the lakes

Im gonna come off this motherfucker

Like a wild eyed whirlwind.

I’ve got 32 days worth of

Living to do and only 14

Days to do it in.

My ships come in so

You better get on board

Or get out of the way.

I want to run through these woods

Feeling the soft green brown things

Under my boot soles and feet.

No more steel or concrete.

I’m just a straight shooting

Coyote chasing

Fish getttin, ill rhyme spitting

Cracker ass son of bitch and I am here to

Show you that none of this is synonymous

With bigot, or racist, but how to say it?

Let me consult the sky.

I follow the movement waiting for the

Crack, the split, the aperture, the opening.

Yes! Show me, bathe me in the immaculate

Light that I might share your beauty and might.

As I wait I think about how tired I have

Grown of being portrayed as a beast.

I am not a savage force to be controlled

I am love to be unleashed.

WAIT! The light! The light!

There it is!

 We are universally applicable,

Transmutable,

Evolvable,

Immortal,

Integratable

Optimizable,

Fully upgradable,

Totally limitless beings whose true nature is love.

Difference and alienation are only created

Innovated by those wishing us to remain divided

Separated from the whole, the love, the peace

That is our birthright.

Thank You.

On the way out of the woods

I decided to go home and lose my mind

And by mind I mean something that

Is not mine.

Seeking stillness to

Rid myself of the film,

The filth, the sediment

Obscuring the third eye lense.

Not mine but theirs,

Impure, unnecessary, malignant,

Obfuscating my perspective

Of this wholly subjective.

The stiller I become

The closer to the achievement

Of the objective.

Peace.

Give me peace in stillness

Lift me from the illusion

Unleash me from the bullshit

Bring me to conclusion.

So it's been a while. Don't know what to call this yet.
As usual, this has been edited very little if any.
The reading tempo should be quick.

She reminded me that there are

Beautiful women out there and

Finding them is as simple as saying

Would like to meet me for drinks

At molly’s at seven thirty?

She also reminded me that

You have to piss with the peeter

God gave you and sometimes that

Is not a peeter at all.

Have I introduced you to my St. Peter?

He watches over my pearly gates.

I’ve pushed more peeter more sweeter

More completer than any peeter pusher

You ever met, fuck all those other guys,

Andrew

Bartholomew

James the Elder

James the Younger

John

Jude

Judas

Matthew

Phillip

Simon and

Thomas

I met you for the new Bond flick

At 6:15, I was late on account of the state

Of my hair, intransigent.

It said Fuck you Jeremy and your

Plans for making me look nice.

I am tired of remaining smashed

Under a hard hat unseen.

Unseen I wish I could have remained

As I said hello to that red bearded spectre

From my past while he stood in the movie

Theatre mens room peeter in hand.

I’ve got to hand it to you red beard,

You’ve improved, I talked a lot of shit

But I always thought you had the potential

To be the third good mate, sounds like

You’re close.

Close, get close, don’t the blue eyes

Scare you off, logically you know she wants the

Lip to lip, hence all the exploratory arm touch

Awkward close posture rigamorol.

When lips hit lips I let the thought quit.

Feels good, feels nice, do it again,

Once, twice, thrice until the credits roll

Then get it back under control

Out of the darkness, into the light.

Let the door slam on Hope

Then talk awkwardly for a second

Re-inviting her presence into your life

With Sydnee as bystander to the social samba.

After the drive back you awkwardly

Debated what should happen next and

Bravely decided to invite me in.

I’m glad because that means I got to

Watch that thing wiggle up the steps.

What a monument to the skill of the immortal

Architect, heart shaped, plump, ivory, pliable

Marble masterpiece.

(yes this line is about your ass.)

At the top you remarked on how hard I was to reach,

Too tall for easy access, don’t worry, I’ll come to

I want this too.

On the couch you remark on how it makes

You slouch, but no matter I just want to lean in

And get close.

The ladies at work say no no no this

Can’t work, watch out for sailors, they’re

Trouble and he might be gay. But you checked

With my St. Peter and he is totally buying

The gospel you be preaching.

Thus instigated my hands get motivated

But you stopped me and stated, I’m not

Going to fuck you. I don’t miss a beat

Saying I’m not going to fuck you either

And it takes two to tango.

Those that fuck on the second date

Are either heart breakers or get heart broken

And there is something wrong with both

Until now unspoken.

Lack of love for self or love for others

And we have neither.

And now despite that ass too much time

Has passed and I must leave you in the

Grace and mercy of our lord.

Please excuse the popcorn that fell on the floor.

Some would say this poem is over

But I think there is always more.