Happiness is Poetry: Rev Kane

Tonight selfishly a few of my own pieces, enjoy and have a happy day my friends ~ Rev Kane

A Eulogy to amuse the penguins                     2006

People don’t want the truth
particularly not when death is at hand
they don’t want to know a life
can’t stand to see the warts
they want disneyanna
where at the end of the day we gather
and have a parade down main street America

My grandfather was a man
a hard man
a cold man
but he mellowed with age
hard jagged lines on his face
fading soft with his laughter
eyes lit as he talked about back in the day

He died in 1990 and I asked to do the eulogy
wanting to speak his life warts and all
but my bitch of a sister ratted me out
ratted me out to my aunt the nun
I suffered through the speeches
sister, aunt, father oh my
to my shame I acquiesced

But I was on the hook my friends
had to stand up in front
relatives, family, friends, nuns
So I chose to pick a slice
grab a day in the life
and this is the one I chose

My grandfather loved tomatoes and roses
and in the neighborhood was a challenged boy
a boy of 32 with a dad in his 50’s
the boy had trampled grandpa’s plants and he was pissed
he had the opportunity to see the boy’s father
never given to silence he spoke
of course grandpa spoke with his fists
like an 87 yr old warrior from the WWF
he came off the top step with a right cross
Grandpa went to scrappin in the street
he lost, hitting his head on the curb

I found my way to the hospital the next day
and asked him what happened
he said that guy had a roll of nickels in his hand
yeah grandpa, he was waitin for you
then he grew stone faced and paused
looking at me, seriously he said
I hit that guy in the gut with everything I had
and he didn’t go down, I might be getting old
and I laughed at the coolest thing I’ve ever heard
that day, my 87 year old grandfather just started to consider that he might be getting old
People in the church smiled, but the penguins rolled in aisle, because they knew him best

Addicted to Her                                               05/23/08

She is liquid heroin to me
taking my distance
as I will often do
suffering the tremors of withdrawal
the pain of space, and time and distance
I begin to recover
crawling inch by inch
to that most tentative of safe spaces

Only to gain a taste
rekindling the addiction
the pain of need
the need of pain, of love, of together
sucked into the cycle
having to score a fix of her
again and again
obsessively doing whatever it takes
to have contact, a word, a scream
rock bottom is not so much a splat
but a thud
imbedded so deeply into the need
that there is nothing else

Rice Paper Thin                                       8/08/05

Rice paper,
thin,
stretched over mouth
mind
body
soul
wanting to say anything
knowing it will tear
everything fall out

Trying to hold it together
creasing the paper
in the ever exhausting effort
to maintain the image needed,
the limits exposed
bowing only to the match in my hand
that ignites the paper
burning all to ashes