MONDAY, JANUARY 02, 2012


Just my imagination

I'm as lethal as a bullet; I'm a heart attack
if you mess with me, you might never come back.
(This is the type of lyrics I write while listening to AC/DC).
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:13 PM 0 comments Links to this post
You can't please all the mother fuckers

As good as a poem may be, by anyone
there is going to be someone out there
who says that it sucks.
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:08 PM 0 comments Links to this post
When do you stop?

Is a hundred dollars a night enough? Is a hundred grand a year enough?
Is a million enough; a billion? Two billion? A hundred billion?

Mikel K

The line, "Cheating like I don't know how," by Jagger comes to mind.
Posted by mikel k poet at 10:07 PM 0 comments Links to this post
It can kill a diabetic




Candy is on sale
but I won't buy any
because I ate so much
over The Holidays.





Poem to Joan

I'll be outside, sitting down
taking it easy, I tell her
writing poems. while you
collide with the mass of
man and woman, and then
wait in line with them
to pay for the oranges and apples
that you are buying for me.







On The Outside

This bitch
just cut in front of me
to secure the spot in line
at the grocery store
that was rightfully mine.
In prison, someone would
take care of her
but all I can do is wait
and smile.





Blessing

This second day of this new year feels just like
the second to last day of last year; thankfully
most days feel much alike: not too much pain to bear.






Bias

The media can portray you in lights
that do not truly represent you;
say you were running to be The First Lady,
and they didn't want your husband to win.




Anticipation

I stick my finger in the rice;
it is still too hot
to add to their dog food
that comes from a bag,
so they have to wait, a bit, this morning,
to have their breakfast.
The dogs seem alright with this,
no extreme protests on their part,
but I know that they will be glad
when I put the bowls down on the floor
in front of them.






Does death not end it?

Death is so final, or is it?
Who knows but the dead, and maybe they don't?
Posted by mikel k poet at 11:36 AM 0 comments Links to this post






SUNDAY, JANUARY 01, 2012




New Year's Day

I really want quiet this morning
but I am not going to get it.
My neighbor's dog is not barking
as it usually does, but she has
her stereo cranked, and I am listening
to music that I don't care to listen to.
Love woke me, in a near panic,
way before I wanted to wake
saying that one of my cats was missing.
"Have you fed them their morning wet food treat?
I asked her. "Why don't you shake the treats jar?"
I knew that that one of those things, or both,
would bring Jaggar running to the kitchen
and it did; my black cat came out, fast, from under my bed.
My days as an isolated writer living alone
with his cats, dogs, and turtles are over.