your only enemy is one who is like you…




Content (c) 2008-2013 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

you will not believe anything

until it destroys your world


and even then you might blame

all but you for not waking up to the danger


impenetrable pride

putting a wall of delusion so thick around


you will not believe anything

including the truth...






Content (c) 2008-2013 Philip Milito. All 2008-2013 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

KA-BOOM YOU BASTARDS

anything can happen

at any old time


so I sit in the eternal now

and wait and wait and wait


and wait no more because finally

something happens in its time


and all I can say is 'and how!'

at the churning turns of fate


speak in tongues and no one will get it

except in the mush-mouthed lingo

of their own trained minds


but the message is the same

anything can happen

and will in its time...



Content (c) 2008-2013 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

SHIVA DON'T YA KNOW?

I ran like hell before the blast

and hid deep in a cave


and when the world came to an end

I was with many a friend


the awakening Shiva

good wishes she did send


and when the world came to an end

I was with many a friend






Content (c) 2008-2013 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

WASN'T THAT A TIME

we live in an absurd world


wherever righteousness and

personal responsibility

are jokes for would-be comedians

and celebrities of any imagined distinction


damnable like nobodies who think

some earthly fame is confers some distinction

on their common lives

and they find an audience among the rest of their tribe


equally vacuous and equally hunger

to be remembered (though the cycle will churn on

and they will be forgotten except among

fanatics who shared their brief time)


absurd? of course? common? without a doubt


but these sad ones are the bulk of humanity

those who want things without doing

who want to be blessed for being their own creations


and will be nothing but fads remembered

by the declining number of their tribe...

I personally am sorry I won't be around

to see their children mock them


themselves seeking their limited eternity

in the fisheye portrait of desperation

we call style and fame and "the way it was for us..."





Content (c) 2008-2013 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

how much do I know?

not nearly as much as I wish I did...


if I knew what I was ready about

I'd probably collapse into a state of shock


so until I'm granted release

from this flimsy earthbound knowledge


I'll cling to my illusions

even as they crumble away and I slowly know better...




Content (c) 2008-2013 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

DEARY

so I used to worship

at the shrine of your bedroom

once when I was young


and you were older in mendacity...

black nylons over the bed post

the garter belts black and tight


the stays grazing the smooth fleshy hips...

at that age that's all I wanted and needed...


and now I know I am staring into the middle distance

on some soggy late summer evening

remembering for as fleeting second


the perfumed thighs and the white glowing flesh

around my ears as I listened for the grinding of the spheres...


and wonder now where you wound up

how you are or even if you are any longer

some reminder of a romantic boy's idea


of poetry and erotic mysticism...

a seemingly better idea than the slavery and slow death

of marriage and what the dwindling of days


have delivered unto us...

memories of our best selves that time and loss


have ground down to their places in mind...


and perhaps me barely remembered if at all

while the shrine of your bedroom outlasts

the hospital smells of age and withdrawal...




Content (c) 2008-2013 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.