Wednesday, August 03, 2016

Syndication


Watching Columbo and playing with myself
There’s something about Peter Falk that gets me all hot and bothered
Maybe it’s the cut of his jib and the way he wears his magical raincoat
Though actually I believe it has more to do with how he always has
One more thing to ask to crack the crime and put the guilty party behind bars

Watching Kojak and abstaining from the pleasure of pleasuring myself
There’s something about Telly Savalas that keeps me coming back for more
I believe it’s the cool way he does everything including sucking on a lollipop
When watching him I feel like he’s got the situation handled and I’m in good hands
And let’s not forget his voice as smooth as silk and as persuasive as rolling thunder

Listening to Nick Cave and wishing I was dead
I don’t mean it or maybe I do
I don’t fucking know
I’ve never done heroin, but if I ever did I’d want to do it with Nick Cave
Swallow the bad seeds and drink down the infected blood and never forget you are one of the chosen and completely flame retardant

Watching all of those bad poets up on that sequined stage reading their God awful Ginsberg-doppelganger poetry and wishing I could light a match and burn
I turn on the television like every other stupid American when there’s nothing better to do and even FB refuses to be my friend
Salvation these days is more channels than we’d ever be able to watch in a lifetime because don’t you know less is more and I guess if you’re not a refugee you’re one of the lucky ones
I love when people tell me they prefer my poetry with shorter lines like my longer stuff just misses the mark and will never end up properly syndicated.

Charles Cicirella
7/31/16

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Creaky Little Bones

http://charlespoet.podomatic.com/entry/2016-07-20T17_15_13-07_00

What’s the purpose of all this writing?
Does it mean anything?
I mean does it mean anything to anyone other than myself and does that even matter?

I stood up and my little bones creaked and it made me feel old and it made me feel human.
I’m not a super hero. In fact these days I’m not even God as my martyr complex goes the way of the Loch Ness Monster and Al Capone’s vault.
I saw Geraldo Rivera at Passover a few years back. I said hello because I’ve always been drawn to pseudo celebrities and their insufferable politics.

What’s the purpose of all these cave drawings?
Do they have any purpose?
I mean do they have a purpose to more than just the cave dwellers who are willing to risk their lives spelunking in the dark after hours?

I stood up and my little bones creaked in protest as I attempted to walk into the kitchen for a quick bite.
I’m not a monster. In fact these days even being called the spawn of Satan doesn’t fit me like it once possibly did.
I’m growing older as I consider throwing in the towel and forgetting about all of these high minded ideals as the status fucking quo calls out to me like a death sentence from a bygone era.

Charles Cicirella
7/18/16

Hana

http://charlespoet.podomatic.com/entry/2016-07-20T15_22_30-07_00

Haven’t met her yet
But I really like her mother
And I know poetic apples
Don’t fall too far from their
Poetic roots.

We expound upon whatever
There is around us attempting
To bring us down or alter our
True north because unconditional
Love doesn’t always wipe away the
Tears, remorse or ridicule.

And I was lost in translation before
I accepted the cost for doing no more
Business and going it completely alone
Because continually lying to myself was
Forcing me to be someone I was not.

Hanna is a trailblazer and I know this
To be true because the ether ruminates
Through each and everyone of us at the
Speed of light and leaves no room for
Mistaken identities or lost causes.

Haven’t met her yet
In fact I’m even too afraid to friend her
On FB because I don’t want to send the
Wrong message in these politically correct
Times where no one any longer expresses
Their true feelings because they’re afraid of
Blowback and all the bullshit going along
With it.

Charles Cicirella
7/19/16