nothing concluded 13

recognizing my dharma

but will not

accept

the title

of a bum.

there are

a few with me,

join me nightly,

as often as

they can.

all of us

at different

stages of our lives

but converging

on this spot.

such a strange

and trendy spot

for us; those

who do not fit

mind-wise.

believe, myself,

that we are all

similar, but

still for some reason

I feel uncomfortable.

jack spoke of japhy

and the beats

as bums

dharma bums

am I similar?

the one who

has parallel

thought to mine

no longer comes

to this place.

all looking to him

as his plane

is much higher

state of being

revered, my guru.

many get lost in his

appearance

not important to him

knowing as I do

it is only the outer package.

know him as I do,

impossibility

only a dream

for the groups who stare,

but I won’t call them bums.

am I the only one

who knows, recognizes

my dharma

they seem inspired,

are they?

all that seems real

is only a dream

parts of the whole

incarnations circling

the cycle to escape.

bleeding my mind

nightly, here

but what is it

that I hope

to accomplish.

spinning thoughts

as the ceiling fan

with four lights

below and reading

the truths into them.

not all as accepting

as I

frowning upon new members,

but who

let them in?

no one has anything to say

and to think they

can exclude some

flaunts their selfish

attachments, afraid to bend.

when they tire, if they do

I will not make any stay

alone I will be

awaiting and remaining

so still, nothing concluded...

feeling inside

those thoughts
came back to the mind
can’t seem to figure
how to release them
volcano ready to erupt
covering everything around
the dust remains
these fiery thoughts
not much anger
very little real pain
have to find the one within
deep cleansing breaths
finding new strength
still shaking a bit
only from the cold…

nothing concluded 12

loud obnoxious teenagers

making my ears bleed

my eyes hurt to look

at them

seeing ten clones.

facial piercing

not an expression

of self

instead, a billboard

screaming ‘I’m different!’

kurt cobain died

two years ago

so wipe your pseudo tears

and jump on the next

bandwagon, as it trails by.

sporting hair as strange

as possible and dog collars

wonder why they stare

I am drunk off of

their senseless babble. 

taking center stage

the freak show circus

of this place that once

was so quiet

and allowed my mind to wander.

eight girls two boys

shock value teens

afraid to be themselves,

desire to fit into

the puzzle somewhere.

starving for attention,

but they only create it,

although I am not one

to judge

looking as I do.

if I could get past the

pseudo-intellectual

conversation, I am

sure I could find ten

real people, but

they hide so wide,

comparing therapy

stories and what

they saw the last time

they took acid.

wishing I had some answers

for them, but they cannot

hear me, I am not weird

enough, I sit and observe

and still nothing concluded...

6 this morning

can’t open them up
in the dark of this morning air
it is two hours before sunrise
the ice here
has made my fingers go uncomfortably numb
not the farmer or the first to get the crop
sun rising through glass doors
reflection bright off the shiny floor
eyes turn to pin point dots
for a second blind to the hand in front of face
four hours of sleep finally catching up
up with candle light conversation
so many people pass on through this life
this one conversation became different
that floating feeling has returned again
trying to slow things down so the mind
has time to catch up still bathing
in Zen thought words by A.Watt
things seems so simple and clear
by seven in the evening still
unable to unite mind and body
into a comfortable state…

nothing concluded 11

speck in my eyes

blurring my vision

watering the skin

on my face

caught

thought in my mind

confusion in thinking

bleeding my soul

coughing, hoping to again

think straight

not actually wanting

to think straight

because anything

not flexible

might break

just a fly

on the wall here

hearing all that they say

the new breed of young ones

hangin’ out

it still isn’t cool to be the nice guy

nice guys still don’t get the girl

everyone has a story

to prove

they have done it all

did I fall asleep

for a long period of time

or something like that

rip van winkle cat

woke with a beard

was the old man

over there ever happy

and will the three young ones

over there grow up strong

or weak

just a fly on the wall

watching

with all my eyes

seeing still—

nothing concluded. . .

wherever that may be

two steps backward for an evening
not bad at all
enjoying both the meal and the company
what was it I said that made the room silent
not much sleep the night before
something deep within that wouldn't leave the head
spinning sideways as always
troubled by something unknown at this time
smoke rises and with this
the wish to be like the wind or air
or the smoke caught in it's grasp
not as free as we all think we are
not all as free as the lonesome hobo
will pick up and be gone on to the next destination
wherever that may be

uncovering another problem
nothing that cannot be solved
confidence and strength from within
running ahead five or six steps
wherever that may be
catching the next strong breeze I might be gone
with the wind for a momentary ride
lifting me to that spot wherever that may be. . .

neatly stacked ladders

3 cigarettes and just as many cups of coffee

feel as though I have been sleeping for days

yet not enough rest

can't hear

and therefore identify what

everyone around me is talking about

21-0 is the score of the football game

who is winning

who is playing

and do I even care

feel my voice get deeper with

the fourth realizing that I have to work soon

and hope that someday I do escape

the doom of being a wage slave

when you have the kind of time that I have

you notice all the things no one else cares to notice

rusty blue van stuck in a dirty white snow bank

seven neatly stacked ladders on top. . .

lost in smoke

the smell of grapefruit juice
stings my nose
ringing in the ears or more
ice cubes dropping into glasses
from across the room
soon the glass will be full again
for right now it is empty
staring at the one
consuming the beverage
lost in the smoke

watch as the back rises and falls in sleep
fetal position watch the shirt
move with every breath
only want is to touch the skin
only thoughts
lost in the smoke

trying not to wake the sleep
finally arrived whenever it did
the only other want is to spit the
grapefruit taste from the mouth
last night may have been intoxicating
lost in the smoke

leaning on an arm
carried on the back
carefully putting back into place
much desire
no conviction
wandering homeward
lost in the smoke. . .

nothing concluded 10

looking down

soft warm

surface below

cushion my feet

if in fact there

is a fall

spending last night

with five

as

we all speed

towards a seven

lost in translation

looming only

moments

ahead is another

one to add

to the enormous

collection

filling another hole

but

becoming more

a part

of the whole

you see?

when was the last time

you saw a night like

this night

you have in front of you

had you cared

to look?

when you leave

can I catch a ride

to the beautiful sunset

that woman

gave me

last night?

eventually they

all

leave in an almost

ordinary fashion

leaving behind

bits of shattered sunshine

starting a new point daily

in a direction toward

his own positive light

despite the shattered darkness

and gloom ahead

lagging behind—nothing concluded. . .

final day

the final day but more to come
patiently beating upon the drum
falling into no category
know no end to the story
two decades plus one is not long
not the singer just hear the song
the one lived out each and every day
and for release he may pray
follow roads he knows so well
waves of confusion start to swell
part of the journey once began
sink in water where he once swam
look back some days and things have changed
only to stagnate if he didn't seem so strange
finding release in an unattached way
only thought on the final day. . .

nothing concluded 9

attaining stoppage

applying the brakes

coming to a halt

seeing nothing

hearing not a sound

spinning the wheels

over and over

never ending

until complete

knowledge attained

nothing more to know

as the day

spins to darkness

night time is the absence

of day

no worries

the trouble has ceased

quietude comes

and complete

peacefulness follows

desire only

to know more

to see that which

I cannot see

with these eyes

how strange the horn

player reveals

so much in sound

yet says nothing

at all

where have all the people

gone and

how does the day

know when to stop

being day

a beautiful memory

comes back

for a moment

and that’s enough

saw her once

she returns so often

and then disappears

like a phantom on the hill

she created

like the lies

what does she see

this time that she

didn’t see the first

time up that

perfect hill

with a tree on top

or not and it doesn’t

even matter

no one had a picture

or pen that day

the ground may be

frozen below

but my feet

are still firmly

planted

the cloud are high

above me and the grass

that withers away

with this cold season

beauty does shine tonight

through the trees

nearly unobstructed

the moon

smile as if I had actually seen her

nothing concluded. . .

floating thought

rising to my feet

feeling as though floating

extremely worn out

wandering from spot to spot

hearing every noise that surrounds me

everyone playing their own tune

singing with all sorts of tongues

some sounding sweet others

pain my ears to hear

night blinks a dark eye

and a gently mist begins to fall

makes the neon city look

as if it were moving

behind me somewhere

a wall behind which I keep all

the memories I hide

nothing concluded 8

no use

getting all upset

happens every-time

at this point

it is almost a ritual

can’t let it

get me

down

so low

pick myself back up

am I the only

one who could

or

would change

things

alone again

but

not lonely yet

won’t let it

creep

learning the ways

teaching myself

the ways

daily meditation

and study

learning to see

things differently

as only I can see

them much

happier now

not trying hard

to understand anyone

enough trouble

trying to figure out

myself

knowing my flaws

are here with me

I look past them

and wish others could

do the same

no time

to wonder why

keep on

keepin’ on no time

to try not to cry

wish I could understand

and it makes me sad

but I will get over it

no more time

for that

satisfied

with myself

and it isn’t much

I know this, still

nothing concluded. . .

nothing concluded 7

these things said

and the questions

the addiction

and when will it

all end, why?

relaxing with

realizing I don’t want

it anymore

habitual policy

quit me now

pushing myself

wanting nothing more

than to extinguish

the fire

all that smoke

sitting with the family now

everyone together

no particular reason

but thankful just the same

changing words if need be

traveling inward

in a crowd

seeing myself

working outward

in order to stabilize

pushing back

the head and relaxing

everyone around

enjoying the silence

nothing concluded. . .

nothing concluded 6

I too

quite perplexed

no reason

just know

I feel

pain

we all suffer loss

change is inevitable

and the wait is not long

change will surely come

changing with change

bending with ease

making the transition

and that which doesn’t bend

will surely break

and I will not break

but bend and change

when I must to avoid

major pitfalls

nothing concluded. . .

nothing concluded 5

far from content

not resting enough

days are too short

wish I was

something.

not what I am

freezing my hands

can’t control

the shake

don’t know me.

as they play

knowing I am

as the song states

feeling utterly

empty.

again feeling

that uncontrollable

urge

to touch

that wonderful skin.

no one knows

how I feel

now

but I am cold, alone

and still, nothing concluded...

nothing concluded 4

don’t truly know

but learning by day

that things do

come easy

to some.

harder for me

to see

from where

I stand

here.

everyone flocks

to the most interesting spot

my spot

not as interesting

just as well.

don’t want the commotion

enjoying my seclusion

speaking with myself

about the many places

my mind has been.

all of the down time

but seen much happiness

heard much ignorance

but learned many things

in my place.

finding joy in the quiet hours

left alone

disturbed by

nothing

nothing concluded...

nothing concluded 3

doing so much

at the same time

feel as though

never enough

for myself.

happiness is

what it is

but what is it

haven’t seen it

in some time.

purpose

still don’t know

getting from

one day to another

my own advice.

smoke fills my lungs

knowing it kills them

$2.33 a pack

what a waste

of a days work.

feeling as if I am old

still in my younger years

seen too much already

more to come

enough is enough.

sitting on the curb

taking a break

well deserved

don’t want to work

nothing concluded...

nothing concluded 2

alone I wait

what’s to come

crouched in the corner

watching

all who come by.

this spot

so familiar to me

my eyes

becoming bored

stagnant scene.

reading the great writers

those I deem great

what I think

meaning not much

to those with degrees.

holding above me

keeping me

below them

not fair

can I change it.

say what I must

to pass

their course

their rules

result.

rejected again

not good enough

they scream

with ignorant voices

don’t they remember.

behind a desk

red pen and grade book

ready to destroy

student

we are all students.

see their thoughts

so much to learn

too many rules

to follow

break the mold.

hold strong

importance in all we say

everyone

so much to say

when will they listen?

take me as serious

as another

won’t kiss your ass

for one letter

doesn’t mean much to me.

my future

not in their hands

deep inside of me

dealing with what I must

to get by.

not as complacent

as another

won’t be put down

much longer

nothing concluded...

nothing concluded 1

scattered memories

starting to fade

all of my thoughts, on one

nevermore, always left to sort through

the rubble, alone.

shattered hopes

anticipated nothing and all I got

but who will explain

too complicated

my heart can’t understand.

uplifting soul

saw past the roughness, interior clean

quiet spot

holding it for one, won’t say

my purpose unseen.

dirty pages

not filth

just random thoughts, lost not long

before knowing not

knowledge received in a dream.

falling asleep

too tired to work

nothing in it for me

everyone’s blind

to what I see.

falling asleep

too tired to try

won’t push the river, anymore

constructing a dam, crushed

when it breaks.

growing used to the scene

natural beauty

seen in reverse, notice the inner first

attraction all the better

I think.

one may wonder

as I do

how things can get so confusing

romantic eyes see

that which others don’t.

pretty faces

don’t see mine

real people don’t notice me

as real as

I can be.

spotted glass

and a hacking cough

stained digits

but still

want to touch.

where has everyone gone

hiding from my eyes

splendor seen

never returning the sight

too short, can’t see.

wave came with the moon

seen in the night dancing wildly

thinking with my pen, ink stained fingers

cramped with cold, aging daily

nothing concluded...