each day the world morphs beyond

anything we've known it to be--

no plan holds--no effort succeeds--

unless it be adherence to the cold dark clay of earth--

to be among those to pull the shoots out of the ground

as if they could enforce growth--

to be with those who wreck all green and growing things

to entomb such things in the crypts of their ambition

and think they've done a wonderous thing--

there are those among us who know better

but we've always been dismissible--what the world does not understand

it will ever seek to destroy--it has always been this way--

on this earth it will never change--

and each and every one of us in the earth will choose our way to die--

born into generalities and dying out in our own particulars

we who in our uncleanliness strive toward the One may one day be clean

and strong enough to pray for those plunging headlong into perdition

as ever the choice is ours--choose wisely then--then dare to leave

the rest to the One

Content (c) 2008-2011 Philip Milito.

I can never understand

How more people in love

Don't kill each other

Strength of will

Or fear of law

I guess

And I would back

The latter

*

honesty can get you killed these days

we talk loosely--carelessly--

thinking ourselves among friends

and suddenly you're in a refrigerator

accosted by negativists who denounce all good

as if it were a grand lie and that truth can only be

dirty and humiliating--they look for evil and find it

then turn and say "see?"

now I understand the mountain men of the Old West

who saw the lie of good and bad alike

and said "the hell with it"--

I admire them as I/we endure our technological world society

run by both tyrannies alternately (but actually in unison)--

wish I could hunt game and grow gardens--

think I'd better learn--unless death spares me

the post-apocalyptic hell of a "New Golden Age"--

who--help us all?!

*

thank whatever power the One (for lack of an adequate word) is

that the moment is calm

that love and power are not present before me at this time--

may we all make it home one way or another

may we all find that peace that always around us

despite our lack of notice

Content (c) 2008-2011 Philip Milito.

after a long weekend of illness

some business settled but nothing fully resolved--

and the same pressure for sustenance pressing pressing

and the same dashed hopes and fortified resentments--

what a life!

and yet--

let the unconsciously fortunate talk of positive thinking

unaware of their blessings or some future life

where they won't be allowed their ease of talk--

for me these troubles are so long established

that I see nothing amiss--I'm used to them

and frankly--wouldn't know how to live any other way

Content (c) 2008-2011 Philip Milito.

A MEMIOR

1) I hurt; I healed; I stared at her legs all through first grade; I went up to my room and daydreamed.

2) I passed; I failed; I trembled at a first kiss; I boasted to schoolyard pals; I went up to my room and daydreamed.

3) I made the grade; I didn't make the cut; I knocked her up; I looked for work; I went up to my room and daydreamed.

4) I worked for years; I lost my pension; she and the kids are somewhere I can't follow; my liver became ruined; I went up to my room and daydreamed.

5) I was thrown out of bars; I became embarrassed during one-night stands; I mourned my limp pencil; I went up to my room and daydreamed.

6) I became the cliche I never thought I'd become; old friends avoided me where possible; a woman gave me a shot and failed; I went up to my room and daydreamed.

7) I lived with nothing to show; my memory was one long static shot of a sunset; I cried at the thought of my favorite childhood toy--a squeaky rubber lamb; I went up to my room and died.

8) ?

Content (c) 2008-2011 Philip Milito.

our Lady of Endless Horseshit

attend the transfiguration

of merde to flowers

on the mounds of our displaced earth

Content (c) 2008-2011 Philip Milito.

Rimbaud saw vowels in color--

a former co-worker did also "A is bright red"

Dylan also created in color--Blonde On Blonde's sound

being metallic and bright shiny gold by his own testimony

or later when he was Tangled Up in Blue--

Rimbaud and Dylan both among my artistic heroes

and I contrast them--

my color being silver--like the cloudy

monochrome days of winter

Content (c) 2008-2011 Philip Milito.

how much I love

living in the moment of Infinite Possibility

and how sad--

that this is the only moment that feels alive to me--

its passing a gradual decline into mere effort

apotheosis or failure to achieve no matter

but just the senseless doing--hamsters

on treadmills serve a greater purpose

than we with our dreams and wishes and grand desires--

all we do is live in the glow

of the moment of Infinite Possibility

and wreck every strand of the Almighty's creation

in the process--how much I love

being a traitor to my own knowledge

for love of the Infinitely Possible

Content (c) 2008-2011 Philip MIlito.