Tuesday, March 30, 2010

I always felt as if I had one foot in one world
and another in another--what an oddity I must
appear to others--this wraecca--this Hanged Man
dangling head down--the sky below him--
who came as a speck on the Dali horizon--
looming larger amid the melted clocks
and creaking crutches under the shadow
of a monstrous cuckoo's unmoving flight--
luckily I saw no one else--as if I were some other
species of life they did not want to see themselves as--
and so hid--how desolate to know the depths of...


the sun pries open my lids
I rouse myself--the dream's upshot forgotten--
and here--another morning of drowsy mind
stirring in the flesh--and the heart again...

the heart...

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
a gray undertone

frays the edges of all I see--

just behind every worldly object

this undertone that feels

like I'm seeing to the very limit

of materiality--and beyond that

nothing my earthly eyes

can register

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
attempts at love

very hard when so many

ideas of love

war with each other--

their natural unity


by allegiance to

attempts at love

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Monday, March 29, 2010

my imagination
is vast

it forgives and forgets
unlike some super major Other
I could mention

maybe I will get back
in touch with myself
and maybe not

maybe this Ineffable demanding my love
will show mercy and engender it
or maybe just maybe

I can pull this caper off myself
fuck all of you who did me down
just one last time blasting you

before I use my imagination to
forgive and love myself--the hardest of all

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
crushed flat

eye staring up out of the mud

anything more

you need say to the Lord?

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
wiped out

dealing with bumpkins

rash dealings with rubes

they will put all of us

in our graves

--and yet am I

commanded to love

which I do

but evidently not purely enough

while they fail and breeze through

mendacity top to bottom

and nothing for it but to go


Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
why lament the world?


unlike you

was not meant

to be forever

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Today is March 25, 2010--

the only one we will have for all eternity

though patterns abide

the particulars will never be the same--

March 25, 2010--

and the last part of the day's already gone

so Dylan and the Bible inform us

and as they and all the rest of 'we' know the situation to be--


another closure another opening

on all levels simultaneously--

no wonder we never know if we're coming

or just gone--


the moment you mark the eternal

in the incidentals of this world

the moment passes--

and you're back in the world--

a crowing victory for those earth-bound hell-bound

who want your company on the way

to perdition--

only through this world do we get

to the other worlds--

some go right and some go wrong

with really nowhere else to go


on the spot I'm swallowed whole

the spot was a mouth

and I the morsel that fed its hell


now who wants to challenge

the unbreakable habits

that chain us to the wheel

of death and rebirth

(yes these things still and always will matter

despite the comfort of touch

in a solid-looking world--

despite not being a consideration

of any kind in the current discourse

of minds in the disarray of apocalypse)

I tried and a gimp of lifelong street living

shook me wake (just a word

turd) he might as well've been

God's own barking spider

conducting me to the air of acceptance

that we forget the purpose

when we are too wed to our...what?







God I can remember when such tricks were considered art


is anybody somebody

that fuels our vanity

because we are not aware

somebody is anybody


the valiant are fools

they fight for illusions that glorify themselves

in some ways like the one who creates

a danger to others so he may ride in and play hero--

what a pitifully tiny ambition

to play God and mess with the destinies of dunces


Oh hell help me help

this little rabbit got his side torn out by buckshot

before the little man in the cottage

could bid me enter and abide

at least I won't end up cooked in herbs

by a barbarian


I've lost track of everything--

a lifetime rolls away like scattered pearls

from a broken necklace--

oh Goddess damn it!


to say God or Goddess denotes the sex

of the worshipper--

the perpetual danger of projection

of our own image on the universe


bloody and pink

the moon

after a night of bloodshed--

the joys of citizenry

upholding the brief time of their ignorant triumph

against the inevitably of the ceaselessly morphing

process of coming to be and falling away--

the human race has been utterly insane

since it began walking on the earth--

insanity is our worldly condition

and the tears in heaven the tears of realization

a slap to the spiritual forehead that says

what the hell was I thinking?


Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

another hard day

in a lifetime full of them

Mars Saturn and Earth are planets

of toil and suffering

(so I have it from some


and reincarnationists)

places the soul must on occasion go

to pay a specific karmic debt

I don't know about

Mars and Saturn

but what the hell did I do

to wind up on Earth?

this is one place I've had

higher understanding beaten the hell out of me

but on some hard day

a glimmer will rekindle

and I'll be strong enough to be

released from this bondage

and hopefully even be strong enough

to make it stick

another vow

in a lifetime full of them

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
you will not need

when you will not want

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
many have found no evidence of God

in our earthly wilderness and have turned to despair

Luther Kierkegaard (even Jesus for one split second

asking Father why have you forsaken me?)

didn't know or forgot that this world

this gray stony desolation is the expression of God

IS God as the essence of this and all conditioned creation

this desolation the limitless Paradise itself

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
I never thought I'd live to see this day

the end of America

brought upon us by lunatic fringes

with whom no reasoning is possible

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
the second American Civil War

is on its way

stay off the back roads

or learn to fire a weapon

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
keep out from underfoot

that is how the meek endure
generation after generation
watching tyrant after tyrant
do his mischief and depart

keep out from underfoot
and maybe you'll live long enough
to watch Man's evil kingdoms finally fall

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
in whose name do I kill now?

now that America's own fundamentalist terrorists
have surfaced in the "Tea Party" brand name
of ignorance fear and hatred
for whose agenda do I bear arms?

do I pick up a gun and start firing away
at unpatriotic Right Wing gangsters
who've killed us picked our pockets and left us
a corpse by the roadside?

should I side with the nobly self-regarding Left
and bless the spectacle from inside a gated 'community'
while mind-controlling their bratty little bastards
with status and an intractable sense of entitlement?

anarchy? what the hell is anarchy
but another pretense to the Socratic Dilemma
and a gang of malcontents who'll turn on each other
when they've exhausted their supply of easy foes?

so with the lost Republican dream of individuality
NOT excluding help to one's neighbor--
so with the lost Democratic ideal of all needs filled
and a perpetual acknowledgments of all shades of One--

so with the anarchists who fail because they have not
evolved to the understanding of autonomy--
so it is with my hesitation that keeps me from forward movement--
how on earth (literally) do I defend myself

without being any one of these?

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

the end you've awaited has been delayed

sorry son but you'll just have to live

it's not to your liking but it's of your own making

and that fact's the hardest to bear

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

is the devil's work
said Dylan once--

go for that pitiful
glory and tie
yourself to the hell

of your own

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
america IS dead and gone--
not because of health care
but because of its opponents

isn't it time for the evil rich
to die in TOTAL numbers
and their blasphemous

redneck Tea Farting goon squads
to die with them?
Rush says it's time to kill them all

and wipe 'em out--(meaning the poor
the spiritual the health-decimated)
funny Fat Boy I feel exactly the samee--

about you AND yours--time for the slaughter
of the savage pigs--and worry later about whether
we have sunk to their level when we have

an environment that will allow the human
to be humane--and reflection will show
an image of heaven or a realization about earth--

this endless woeful service incumbent on us all--
this citizenry not spiritually mentally psychologically
emotionally evolved yet to be transcendent--

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Monday, March 22, 2010

a pivot in time

I believe I've posted that in 13 years I'll have

my threescore and ten (age my father passed on)

time so practically non-existent it might as be a month away

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
reading the last two posts I find I'm tried of abstract poetry

welcome to the 21st century they say to me

we forgot about the words

because we do not live in reflection

we act we make things we make life creative

an intelligent creature doesn't need a book

(we never got it anyway we'd rather play Mortal Combat)

(oh who'll chide me on my ignorance or suggest

what I already suspect about the poems being rotten

the lines not much bad as 'eh'

but somebody heard me and now I know

voice is all

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
how I will flourish

is beyond my understanding

I'm just doing it

and the benefits are immediate

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
no one will know anything about it

crows will fly and fields will burn

some will plant 101 seeds in case of 100 birds swooping down

the winds raise flocks of ash from the charred nest of the earth and

no one will know anything about it

dog chewing dog and a thinking animal flees

skies turn red and silty as dark gray caves offer shelter

hammering hail tamps and packs the dirt but

no one will know anything about it

figure grows bigger as the world recedes

a giant shadow taps where the figure disappeared

the world is vast until the edge of sight yet

no one will know anything about it

now do you get it awakening to concur

now do you imagine repentance because your pride is broken

now do you think you'll hold your tongue rather than question since

no one will know anything about it

invent a genealogy start the universe again

chant belches and farts of praise and thanksgiving

creating a fiction of the fact of our self-isolation because

no one will know anything about it

small comfort in the remaining night desolation

the world is an excuse to lapse into savagery

forget the higher self it's forgotten you now that

no one will know anything about it

but you know better sadly enough

the ash will settle and nourish that seed

this body lie picked at by burning crows like

no one will know anything about it

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010


we've survived these storms--

a breather in the apocalyptic wrenchings
that are purifying the earth

poo-pooing the mounting evidence
with trembling notions of science and rationality--

and I'm reminded again I live in a world
that thinks science and Spirit are antagonistic--

science is at best an apprehension of Spirit's will
to manifest in this world--as all signs of our Oneness

increase we cling to our own imagination--
blocking the active flowing of Life--and I live

in a world where those who hear this say
"blah blah yeah..." while bailing for their lives

before the next storms knock us grudgingly OUT--


the street sign says "bump ahead''--

isn't it always? and why waste my tax money
to make a sign telling us what we already know--unpoetically?


what I paid for was delivered elsewhere--
someone must need it more than I do--
who'll default elsewhere
to come
to my aid?


I'm at the mercy of morons
so I say and so says the one after me--
I'm at the mercy of morons


I awoke from my Rip Van Winkle life--

20 years I begged at prayer a miraculous save
and only slumbered through a daily nightmare
of violence and eerie stillness--a mediocrity
of contingency and slow fading--

now old--awake--gone but of remembrance of a prayer


I conquered daily reality
I worked like a dog
gathered at the troughs with other hungry dogs--

but I dreamed of heavenly kibble
and so conquered one squalid satisfaction
with another--and still the eye out for more


now my bones hang a drapery of skin
waiting to be drawn


how eternal the moment
long long and long
so appear so brief
in scope of recall


a last flare for women--

their beauty the manifestation
of all body and soul could offer to Spirit--

holiest lust--the engine of this world--
that races when a man sees his beloved and feels

first flare for his woman--


my beloved
passion deepens from quick flash
to slow burning of lingering glances
and hands drawn as by magnetism

my beloved
the fullness of love radiates from
this contact perpetual once or a hundred times
a pole star for all souls on their two-by-two way


a rich deepening blue sky at twilight

is the last thing I hope to look at
when the door opens in the air

and I continue my way to the source
of all twilights and all rising days

a pale green and orange dawn on a shoreline
of some ineffable immensity

rays blazing across the water to bathe the limestone cliffs
and light the hazy beach in the damp glow

of this morning---

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

I must leave all thought of God behind me--

every time I meditate on the Name
I unleash a thousand devils--
every time I try to do good those devils
gain strength and wreck every mildness
that can be wretched from the chaos of process--
every time I fail in my merely human effort
the weights of karma weigh me down
until there is nothing left in which I can believe
and draw fortitude from--

what is it about the idea alone of God
that brings out every flaw and failing
in this creation--this soul-crushing mystery
of the imperfect creation of a perfect God?

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
If God Almighty
doesn't know
vengeance is precisely
what will drive us from
devotion and service
because we cannot equate
this unmerciful weighting
of scales beyond our knowing
with these vows of love and forgiveness

then who could complain
when we turn from the Lord
to be punished for trying to live
exactly as we are commanded to
because it is the right thing to do?

what is it about power
that is so evil even good must obey?

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
we know absolute truth

the way an germ knows
the larger organism
it penetrates

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
will these bones sing?

don't know
but I know for a face
they groan a lot--

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
I can't stand wasting papaer--

so I'll put all I can on the amount of what will be this printout--

why should it matter?

I could put the secret of life on these pages and it would mean as much

as if I'd embedded porn on this page

or had a care for who will be cut out of a deal tonight--

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
the human race has lost its memory--

the simple things we've known for centuries

is being expunged by good 'decent' cogs

in an infernal machine who can't understand

what the fuss is all about

who help us!

this is how a world ends--

dreaming its own end and not knowing why

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
a new life means an old death

and I'm remained yet again--

despite my endlessly stupid faith--

that God does not know mercy

that your sad childish belief is your own undoing

and that earthly life is a slow painful death

releasing us to yet another level of God's vicious plan

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Friday, March 12, 2010

I haven't a thought how all this life will turn out--

but I'm only a tiniest part of it--

I do my part and the whole is not (in the abstract) my concern--

my part alone and how well it is done is part of all

that comes about and passes through and in the whole

is of my direct actual concern--

to live you must have a sense of proportion--

live in that sense--and you won't wind up eaten

by a bird and you burrow too close to the surface--

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
to see you is painful

(oh how love forgotten is love destructive

the years having eaten away the vitality

and remind yet again how brief the time to be--)

but no more painful than

any passing--the matrix of our experience slipping away--

another forlorn mope out the window

at a vanishing world--

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito
I know I'm in the home stretch of this earthly sojourn--

I'm coming down to cross that finish line--

I'm coming down to go through the winner's circle

to release and onward to whatever after--

and though I know (and know that I know

and know that I know that I know) that my time to be done is come

I'm gonna keep goin'...I'm gonna keep goin'...I'm gonna keep goin'...

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
I've given last chances

am I forgiven?

am I esteemed?

do I give a shit if you succeed or fail?

I've given last chances

having blown all mine myself

perhaps I can pass on good grace I've wasted

and maybe I can't but one hopes intent matters somehow

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
I have given the all-clear

but still one must trudge through the day

to get to the rest at night--

where there's no resolution but suspension

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
hot lionesses

haunt my loins

my brow sweating over the thought

christians in the arena

prefer to be eaten

hosannas on their shrieking tongues

bread and circus orgy pits of splashing blood

in the hunger of hot lionesses

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

blessings on the earth

hmmmmm...assholes on the moon?

bees sting and tear your leg

let them have sport

in spite of you

you miserable snatch

I bestow "bloodied but unbowed''

blessings on the earth

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

the red smoking sky

overhangs the sleeping city

while every experience I lived

parades under it

as if Richard Brautigan

had lifted a spirit pen in the aether

and wrote a short story called

"The Red Smoking Sky

Overhangs the Sleeping City"

about some guy sitting in his window

thinking about his life

while watching the night happen

and having no particular feeling about it

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
all my consciousness is your presence--

you will never vanish from my data bank

no delete

no reboot

hardwired into the soul--

I'm imagining you swooning

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
we are ashamed of our greatest plans

cowardly enough to take all credit for our mistakes

rather than face a responsibility

that will take us from behind

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
angels bless

the worse of us


greater grace abounding?

who knows?

give thanks for things being

as they are

and you'll make the best of something...

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
giving the self in surrender in love

does mean that you're done son

but only with what caused you grief and delusion--

oh but oh how easy to miss searching out that love

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
I don't need hopes and dreams--

I've got my hands full

just trying to get away

from the fated souls who'd drag me back

into the world from which I am

vigorously racing--but not too soon--

let me get a little distance

and I'll be holding my own--right on time--

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
why do I bother trying to do right?

no one else does

and we'll all get what's coming to us anyway--


I'm going out to play...

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
longing fades as age saps the strength

and all we do is all we've done

the fullness maddening us with hunger

though the belly is full

and age saps longing as strength fades

and all we are is all we'll be

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
a mourning is but refreshed solitude

driven inward again to examine

the proximity of one's aspiration

from one's experience of it

and to weigh whether it was a waste

of time or the culmination of it

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.








Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
how eager to pretend

one got through one's mess o.k.

to pull one's self groaning out of the bed each day

almost feels like putting on a front--

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

real tears from fake emotions

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
appropriate to avoidance of close situations

is a false-face to hide the coward's dubious

identity the safety in mendacity

the polite dismissal without involvement

and who hating is pleased by the prospect

but miffed "why must I miss their comeuppance

damn it?" not realization the shared guilt

that binds us all in disdain...

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

shades speak out of the table lamps

a spot on the ceiling hovers and vanishes
as you turn to look at it

everything seems to know all about you
disavow you make you ill

as you gather into yourself in a coded
remembrance of your choosing

you heard whistling passed your window

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

our hearts in plain sight

and thus easy targets for the claw

or the hook

I take your fragile beating

in my spirit hands

and cover it from the examining sky---

love poems in this day

and at this age--I'd be

hooted out by craven generations

of nasty cripples

who are afraid to lower their sunglasses

for fear of being blinded

by the unguarded moment

the tender admittance of sadness--

when a shadow streaks over our ground

we turn in the shade of a rock

as if this were Ol' Possum's wasteland

where the bones sing on Ash Wednesday

and wait for the passing of the darkness--

those talons clutching the air in vain

for in plain sight is the power

of vulnerability to trick the predator

in the mistaken belief a hunger will be filled--

but our stillness throws him off

to look elsewhere for his satisfaction

while we hold our hearts

in such a way that no hunter

would be patient enough

to notice us in plain sight--

the very contours of the landscape itself--

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

if you don't believe how much you are loved--

play the fool

how reassured everyone will be that there's

nothing wrong with them--

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
I gave my blessings to serious business

laugh! there's nothing serious about how

relieved others are that it isn't they who took that slide

they give me blessings for my clownishness

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
blue smudge above the rainy streetlamp

a glare from a curtained window fluttering dark

in a haunted window

I don't know any of this for sure

whether my blear-eyed scowl or my haunted searching

for a naked form within that unknown room

twisting on a bed in restless sleep

dreaming of me speculating on it

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

I came down off my mountaintop

to step in water shin deep

while I prayed for the salvation of the earth

nature took matters in hand and cleaned house

no others no animals two-by-two no raven

no dove just me emerging from my escape pod

glad I was alone because boy

was my face RED!?!

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
floss before you pray

you dook chewing sinner

first the sacrifice

then the redemption

faith isn't expecting your wish

to be granted

it's accepting that it may not be

and having the toothbrush handy

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
certain in uncertainty

the knowledge of inspired guesswork

a reward for our duplicity

dismissing in baby talk

genius pee-pee and ka-ka

while dozens of foundations

hold the diapers--

wish I could bamboozle that shamelessly

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
if things fall apart on you

just wait and let change

wipe away the evidence

Big Brother fancies himself a god

but his world wide electronic memory

has a lot of gaps that experience

can slip through and is something in itself

a god can easily weigh measure and dismiss

imagine man's ingenuity and pipe dreams

of infinity swept up in another

cosmic change in process and subsumed

as naturally as Alka-Seltzer dissolves

in a glass of water and to as much benefit...

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

I hang in the balance
in every instant of living

each moment enclosed and eternal
dying away into the next new-born moment

dying away into the next and the next--

strung out between the dualities of creation
I swing on this line--this false time buffeting like a wind

and ever--my only measure is my own endurance--

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

I thought often of Acadia

Cadillac Mountain in the late afternoon

the sun dipping into the distance

darkening the sight of Casco Bay

way there to the West

I thought often of Acadia

being there even when I'm not

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
God must have a sense of humor

how else could The One bear

his errant creatures?

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Joe Schmuck thinks he has an idea

like God Joe Schmuck's will is our woe

until God takes this schmuck in hand(as it were...)

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
the growing wave

the water's edge draws back out to sea

we have only minutes

we have only seconds

cold comfort knowing

it'll be fire next time

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
on this mild day
soft acceptance of the inevitable--

on some other day
all the raging pain of earth

raging in a mind
raging on a tongue but

on this mild day
no protest for it is understood--

this mild day raging
like an ecstasy of peace

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
the food chain running from poor to rich is simple--

the poor skin their own meat
and the rich eat it for them

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Monday, March 8, 2010

busy in the daily world

so it is for all of us

even the loafers must exert a little effort

to safeguard their indolence

even if it is the strain to produce a witty retort

even serious pain makes one wonder whether

serious work has any value or is of any use

busy in the daily world

I put in my time and go home

busy with lighting the fire and staring

with utter peace at the flame

screw the busy world I stare at the fire

with utter peace at the flame

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
did you honestly think I could let go unchallenged
such an insult to my honor
that I could not lift myself out of my comfortable bed
and mangle the fool who called me lazy?

a man can't even take his rest
without being called out by meddling fools
whose idea of power is prey on the peace-loving
while avoiding the trolls who'd kill them for getting in the way

here close your eyes and hold out your hands
while I shit in your palms and run
there at least I've earned the right
to denounce my oppressors the ones who'll stop at nothing

to fortify their idiocy with the arrogance of the tiny
safe as a crab in the crotch

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
no rest until reunion
and no reunion until sins are forgiven
and atonements have been made

so proceed
by all means go on
continue forward

and bring your efforts to culmination
and let it be what it is
and may what it is is rest

so proceed
by all means go on
continue forward

and be done
as it is done

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
I have entered into my own skin again
after years of wandering in a disembodied dream
of transcendence and escape...which proves
how wrong I got it...and now can only

be again subsumed in the physical body of this earthly time
so I may depart by the way I entered...
so here I am...in time to watch suns set and nights descend
and to be happy that it is so...

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
your last graceful necessary fall

will be seen on You Tube and commented on
by empty ignoramuses and blog talkbackers...

THAT is what passes for bread and circuses these days...
the nasty mouths of safely concealed weaklings

the vengeance of losers ...while your spirit rises
above the muddied stream to use their rock-like skulls

as stepping stones...

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
don't be so sure I'll acknowledge you...

you treated me pretty shabbily and I haven't quite
gotten down forgiving and forgetting

but when I saw you bickering with the boy friend
I couldn't help but think...good...good for you...

you snot...you fake...

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
the soft melancholy of memory
absorbs the day

yes the great moments are always with us
in mind and heart but yes...

to be able to go back...just once...and to do it
without disappointment from the knowledge

of the intervening years...there's the melancholy...
that it cannot be done but in reflection of remembrance

and that if it could be done...the sadness would be too much...
because even then there was nothing but the here and profoundly


Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Friday, March 5, 2010

loves god so much

he (afflicted himself) cannot
give blessings and best wishes
to the afflicted--frightened

of his own mortality who

loves god so much

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
the knife

the cord

the blood

the withdrawal

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
a bright smudge of sun through the clouds

the faintest crystals of flurrying snow swirling in the air

and below the window a Con Ed road crew

jackhammering the worn street

(easier than pilling a cat)

and digging holes to tamper with infrastructure

that will electrocute you and your dog

through the sewer lids and turn my drinking water brown

looking out the window though

you couldn't tell a thing was wrong

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
unnerved by the glancing sky

I kneel in place
and hope to be unobserved--

all the holiness I want---

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
the happiness corner has closed up

there's nothing for it

too many people have come to take delight

in causing others sadness

Content 208-2010 Philip Milito.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

not all truths are known--

though they're all evident

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
oh gladness--happiness--
contentment too--

mislead you into thinking
that they'll guard you

against this world's truth--
and all you love you'll learn to rue--

oh none of it will act as shield
for all of the bullshit flying at you--

with love, Job (pre-fairy tale reward..)

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

we hurt ourselves

fearing to hurt others--

but none of us is spared

the hurt

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
where go the herds

go the parasites

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
a cry--then silence--

outside the window


only in the mind does the night

continue to shift--

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
you answer the silence with silence--

mastery at last!

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
A hope is an aspiration's failure of nerve--

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
the worst I can endure
is still a lot better
that being in contemplation
with no love to express it

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
your time is up--

NOW you may begin---

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
I'm back in my skin after a lifetime in my head--

but for the wear and tear of fading flesh
and diminished hunger

my head is ready to absorb my skin

open the doors of Paradise, Pete...
I'm leaving these old rags outside--

a lifetime in my head back in my skin--

rags on the snowy stoop of the abandoned house--

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
my yearning quieted long before
the acquisition of its fulfillment
and now is bittersweetly settling for
the healing of its confinement

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
age supercedes age
one tyranny replaces another

but down here
we watch the shadows of big dogs

blot out our shadows on the sidewalk
and then glance up to see nothing above us

I answer to a different name
in a game with another set of rules

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

the music of the spheres on a rubbery-sounding cello

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

back to from where I started
to go out through where I came in

with everything different
but everything the same

and my self-image giving way
to what I actually am

and uttering the one honest hosanna--
oh crap!

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.