Poetizing spontaneously without combusting
  • The poetizing begins

    The poetizing begins

  • The poet contemplates

    The poet contemplates

Nexus III

Nexus III

Nexus II

Nexus II



Seeking the Wind

Seeking the Wind



Slavery tastes of fear and feels as if someone barbwired your soul – taste the brutality.

sees animals not people
relies on a coarse compass
to guide his moral deficit

sells angels for the highest price
hawks humanity without a license
never apprehended

inoculates cruelty
stretches his frailty
with manacles of pain

drowns his subjects with drugs
weaving a chain of tears
in December bleakness

trades souls and hearts
shackles humanity
for shekels stained with tears

Remove the chains
Remove the tears
Remove the fears

Remove the chains
Remove the tears
Remove the fears

Remove the chains
Remove the tears
Remove the fears
© 2013 lgjaffe



Friendly Lamentation

friendshipFriendly Lamentation

It may come as a surprise to you
But when we became friends
I thought you meant it

I have never been half-way
About friends
They are all close
Or not friends at all

So I took what you said
At face value

We were to be friends

Pinky pals for all eternity

I would take a bullet for a friend
And you thought that presumptuous

I would be there 24/7 for a friend
And you thought that audacious

When did you change the definition
Of friend to someone you called
When you needed a ride

© 2013 lgjaffe

I Never Appreciated Bukowski

Bukowski-with-wordsI Never Appreciated Bukowski

I don’t know why
I never appreciated
Charles Bukowski
I just didn’t

I never got to call him
or Chuck
I never called him anything

I never got
to hang
out with his words

I just never appreciated
Charles Bukowski

Perhaps he was too raw for me
But that makes no sense
I invented
Unprotected Poetry
how could anyone
or anything
be too raw for me?

Perhaps something more sinister

Maybe I was told
He was an aging revolutionary
But I love revolutionaries
Aging or otherwise

Maybe Bukowski
was pawned off to me
as some sort of freak
vomiting on his shoes
Glass houses
is all I can say

I don’t tolerate drunks
all that well
maybe this was it


Today I discovered a Bukowski
left hidden behind his ancient art

I appreciate Henry Charles Bukowski
and call him Hank

© 2013 lgjaffe


21st Century Zombie

pills21st Century Zombie

A man steps on the moon
Almost 50 years later
He steps in mayhem

His trousers wrinkled
From defeat

His necktie ruined
From hanging intruders

His shirt speckled
With the blood of spectators

– Who is this man?
– Why does he wreak havoc so recklessly?

He is coated with the film
Of psychotropic drugs

His decisions not his own

His mind inundated
With televised violence

He breathes poison
Spouts venom

He has become a snake
In the looking glass
Revolted by his own image

Welcome 21st Century zombie

© 2013 lgjaffe

We Are Poetry They Said

keyboardWe Are Poetry They Said

puts pen to paper
rides keyboard
into sunset

man’s words
fly from fingers
by class

refuse to climb
socialite limbs
staying earthborn
with dreams
of flight

– Desperate words
breath last breaths
and leave a void

– Silence

– Disillusioned
by hapless

– Crying for resolution
and vengeance

long for freedom
unfettered by lust
wandering freely

yearn for life
not some

We are poetry they said!
We are poetry they said!

© lgjaffe 2013




He said

Snapping his fingers
in real time

No imaginary borders

Just him doing his thing
nice and fancy like

On the boulevard

© 2013 lgjaffe


%d bloggers like this: