Buddha

https://www.podomatic.com/podcasts/charlespoet/episodes/2019-07-28T01_29_37-07_00

Back of the car coming back from Amish country when I got the text

His guy had come through and he could hook me up tomorrow before the stone setting

Waiting for the man can be a dubious affair; it can also be the only thing that exceeds expectations when your whole life is one car crash after the next

Escaping reality these tortured days is a prerequisite to protecting the light that is our soul

Everything is a drug so it’s best to do the good drugs because waiting around to die only proves beyond fruitless in a Townes Van Zandt soundscape of shit kicking cowboys and the bareback mountains they’re afraid to climb

I tell people my inner child is a monkey and they always laugh because they don’t seem to get how much truth I’m spilling as another phoenix goes up in smoke

My art has saved me from a life of doldrums and lethargy, but it’s best not to envy me because I too often live hand to mouth as I await the creativity to kick in and transport me from this labyrinth of sleep and PTSD

You want to know the truth well I can only disclose so much at any given time as I daydream about Kat Boyd walking down the Glasgow streets

When I’m in the grips of a writing jag there’s no better high and as I await my next poetic journey lighting the pipe and listening to the Gods in my head keeps me spry and in fighting shape

I’ve known him since high school and he never fails to astound me with how laid back he is in a crisis of conscious and twisted steel

I like to think of him as the Godfather like Brando was once upon a time

Waiting for the next Lou record to drop because you cannot accept that he’s dead and in the meantime driving the spike in takes away some of the agony of having to wake up only to die all over again

Charles Cicirella

7/27/2019

Everyday

https://www.podomatic.com/podcasts/charlespoet/episodes/2019-07-23T10_09_30-07_00

Every day I wake up and make a cup of NESCAFÉ® Clásico

It’s a routine like watching Jeopardy! or masturbating

Sometimes I misplace my purpose, but I always regain my sea legs before I need to resort to Dexedrine though don’t put it passed me to crush it up and snort it

“The world is turnin', I hope it don't turn away” Neil wrote that and I couldn’t agree more as the beach swallows up more of the coast and singer songwriters  go the way of apoplectic dinosaurs

Don’t forget to put on your galoshes as you wade out into puddles of blood and pushcart carnage

I am so sick and tired of the haves doing their damndest to eradicate the have nots and I am glad that the me too’s have begun to rise up and right so many king-sized wrongs

Weinstein, Rose, Spacey and the list goes on and on can go fuck themselves into oblivion as the people rise up to take back what’s rightfully theirs

The “rich and powerful” seem to think the world is their playground and their “celebrity” makes them impervious to right and wrong

We must draw a line in the sands of time and teach these demolition experts a thing or two or three thousand about how real people feel about being take advantage of for so goddamn long

Every day I wake up and seek out a flower to smell or a puppy to pet because I so desperately need to reconnect to the beauty and simple complexity of everything and nothing

Multiple shithouses are burning as the news from across the pond only fans more flames of incompetence and entitlement

Our civilization only has so much air left in its tires before we fall flat before our creators, begging forgiveness for all the wrongs that have been perpetuated in the name of vanity and self-aggrandizement

Charles Cicirella

7/23/2019

Smoking Resin

https://www.podomatic.com/podcasts/charlespoet/episodes/2019-07-21T16_16_07-07_00

Two days smoking resin sucks, but that’s what happens when you don’t have two cents to rub together and no one will come to your emotional rescue

I have plenty to be thankful for including Nightingale saints who have more than helped me out when my electric light was growing dim

Still I crave more because I’m an American and I’m not really surprised with the current racist tinged situation we find ourselves in

Actually it’s not racist tinged because the apple never falls too far from the tree and when it’s a tree growing in Brooklyn forget about it

He was born with a stainless steel spork up his orange despoiled asshole

This could be the end of everything as a weak and insecure baby-man takes us down the rabbit hole because he cannot face the truth Pres. Obama is everything he is not

I want to get high not so much to escape reality, but to instead create my own reality and leave the Cowardly Lion, Tin Man and Scarecrow in the poppy fields

The music does what it can, which is quite a lot, and the artist is always prepared to strike a pose and give the finger to all the poser poets who think they’re so cool because they know how to Xerox

I was born kind then I began to unwind and before I knew it I had misbegotten my original wrapper

Let’s stop pretending we don’t deserve these just desserts, after taking the Native American’s land and giving them back nothing in return, but diseased blankets and losing mascots

Sometimes when I think no one is looking I stick a finger straight up my anus and rub it till its raw. It feels good and helps me to keep my eye on the prize, whatever that is

Still I crave more because one finger is never enough especially if you have the whole afternoon to yourself. My point is even broke asses deserve to get high

Charles Cicirella

7/21/19

Distorted

https://www.podomatic.com/podcasts/charlespoet/episodes/2019-07-16T09_06_42-07_00

Take the smoke in

Hold a loaded pistol to your lungs and pull the trigger when you lift your finger off the carburetor

Natalie Bunch was the first one ever to sell me marijuana; I still want very much to fuck her

The smoke is my savior and I but its humble servant

We serve so many masters we’re not even aware are on the scene

The haves have been eating our lunch long before the neo-liberals started pulling the levels to our ultimate destruction

It’s all in the game when you refuse to educate yourself to what’s so plainly written on the lavatory walls

Two sides went up in smoke long before I was hatched like a disgruntled chicken or purloined disciple

I listen to his moans of ecstasy and am convinced we share the same spirit animal and shaman

The music is here to enlighten, not constipate us

When we refuse to acknowledge what’s falling apart all around us we’re even more prone to our failures and well deserving of annihilation

Our collective carbon footprint has already doomed us to the eleventh circle of Dante’s Hell

Take in the pungent fragrance of sweat sock and weed handed over to me by a Buddha who has lent me comfort since junior high

I’m not messing around, it’s time we dropped our big honking erasers and stopped perpetuating a revisionist history where Mel Gibson is still big at the box office

Our country is losing face because we’ve clearly not learned that paying attention to a bully only makes the bully stronger and fuller of rage and sharp, stabbing regret.

Charles Cicirella

7/15/19

Escape Hatch (For J.B.)

https://www.podomatic.com/podcasts/charlespoet/episodes/2019-07-04T01_00_09-07_00

She tasted like Edward R. Murrow

Meaning she was newsworthy

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Dedicating this poem to J.B. because he’ll get where I’m coming from

Plus there won’t be any accusatory glances like I stole his best lines

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Sitting in only my boxers because when I hit the pipe I choked so hard all of my clothes became an impediment

Oftentimes the only comfort I feel is when I stand over the kitchen sink retching in time with the Final Jeopardy music

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He hinted about an escape hatch long before performing his final act of desperation

I understand you want reparations, but you’re not the only ones who were raked over the coals and left in the sun to harden like aggrieved melons

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I’ve been called a misogynist and will probably be labeled a racist for the last line, but none of it is true

I get a bad rap because I don’t believe in cutting off the crusts before serving the peanut butter, banana and bacon sandwiches because even rock royalty needs to learn to eat crow

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She wanted to play my bagpipes, but I told her my kilt was at the cleaners and she bought it

Let’s focus less on news that is slanted, white washed and pasteurized and hone in on the atrocities laying siege like breadfruit to our planet’s core

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I’m as out of touch as the next American casualty

If our apathy was worth its weight in gold we’d all be Donald Trump

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She fixed my watch by breaking into my heart and taking my very last ounce of courage hostage

It distracted me just long enough that she was able to make a break for it while “Break On Through (To the Other Side)” played in my mind

Charles Cicirella

7/4/19