When God Tells You That You Suck

--Note this is rough, off the cuff, and my latest attempt at third person. Lots more planned with this one--

When God Tells You That You Suck

It happened to Lewis when he least expected it, in the same holy way that it happened to the prophets and the sinners on the brink.
God spoke to them.
And sometimes saved them.
But he did not save Lewis.
The word of the holy messenger came down to poor Lewis for the first time on a golf course in Florida passing over the rolling green that clashed in epic war against the surrounding marsh where there is no doubt that dinosaurs used to roam long ago when the world was different.
There are only crocodiles there now. Sometimes they bite the occasional businessman and the novice golfers cackle in delight and see it as some sort of karma or intervention from the gods.
God did not speak to Lewis through the bite of a crocodile, but rather in two simple words.
The day it happened Lewis was with his friend Geoff. Geoff was a hunched up guy but working on getting that back straight. He had some problems when it came to gambling. We all do in our own way.
“Life’s a gamble isn’t it?” he would say, oftentimes sticking his hands in his pockets as if he knew the truth behind the statement.
Usually his pockets were empty after a day at the tracks or a day on the green.
That day with Lewis, his pockets were still empty and most likely will be for eternity because people do not change.
Lewis knew this, when Geoff asked him to put some money down on the hole.
Lewis wasn’t the gambling type. He was an average sort of guy.
“What doya’ say Lewis? How about puttin’ a few dollars on this hole. It’s an easy one,” Geoff said.
“I don’t think so. Not today,” Lewis said, lining up for the drive. Squaring the feet, straightening the back, judging wind and the manipulations of the sun on the eyes and perception.
This stuff is a science.
“Oh come on. Don’t be such a square. I know you’re trying to be a straight shooter but have some fucking fun man,” Geoff said. He slapped Lewis on the back, disrupting his zen moment of concentration.
Lewis gazed at him. They used to run together, in another life. One of cigarette butts littering the old apartment they shared, and the occasional pink thong found in the couch, and pages and pages of small black books with no title and no cover. Just names, money amounts, and bets.
“I’ve cleaned my shit up man. I’m married to a girl I love, I run a business,” Lewis said.
“Bullshit. You know you miss our glory daze. Who wouldn’t. We were hustlers once. Lets give it a go again. You know I still got the old contacts,” Geoff said.
“I’m sure you do. But I’ll have to respectfully decline,” Lewis gave him a look. So this was what this golf outing was about after years apart. A business discussion about illicit business operations.
Lewis looked out over the water trap. He thought he saw an alligator ripple through the water somewhere, but probably not.
“I’ll sit this bet out Geoff. Even though I’d win anyway,” Lewis said.
“Suit yourself big shot,” Geoff said, surrendering far to easily than what was usual.
Lewis entered his zen golf zone, squaring his feet and doing that jazz that serious golfers do.
No Happy Gilmore shit here.
He raised the club in the air and focused. His breath steadied in his chest and the warm moist Florida fire sun pressed against it and reflected its light as if the dinosaurs still roamed the earth and the club and the light from it were the death comet that rained down their destruction.
Lewis was in the moment.
As he brought the club down in a swift moment, the flurry of the universe parted for a brief second, the singular nano-second from the point of impact of club to the ball stopped and time ceased to be.
Lewis felt it.
The voice from the high above coming down to him.
It was loud, hoarse, cigarette choked and broken. Defeated. The sound voice of a dying man.
It was God.
It was God that rang out the only two words that Lewis would come to know only to well.
“YOU SUCK.”
The club turned in that nano-second, right after the “-uck” in suck. The ball went wildly out of its desired path into the water trap.
Lewis thought the alligators might grab at it.
Lewis turned to Geoff.
Geoff cackled in his own way. His hands still in his empty pockets.
“Damn I wish you would have taken me up on my bet.”
Lewis stared at him dumbfounded. His lean legs shook in loose kaki.
It was a moment before he spoke.
“Did you hear that?” he asked.
“Hear what? You fuck up that shot?”
“You’re telling me you didn’t hear that?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Nothing. Never mind.” Lewis shook his head and looked around the golf course. They were alone save for a few fire ants crawling and a stray pelican flying in from the coast.
He knew then that it must have been God that spoke to him.

Haibun 16

I walk down the sidewalk between two buildings. The sun and wind feel fresh and new. A pair of crows peck and fidget along the sidewalk between two buildings-bored. They fly to the roof as I near them. They behold me from above with their hollow eyes.

they watch
to find out
if I am dead or alive

Haibun 15

Removed...

Haibun 14

Removed...

Haiku 21

Removed...for consideration somewhere else

Ikkyu couplet

You can never
escape your own shadow

Haibun 13

An angry old lady has filled my head with thoughts of the end. Books, television, music-everything will drag me down to evil. I am five and instead of thinking about “Frog and Toad” I am thinking about angels, terrible and mighty, dragging me in chariots of fire away from my mother.

Still
I am worried
I’ll hear the trumpets

Haiku 17

Removed...

Haibun 12

It begins with bottle rockets and beer. The fever takes over and garbage is burned, parts of the garage torn off. The landlord’s spare plywood thrown into the pit takes awhile to catch. Others join and bring more things to burn. With the songs of Bob Dylan echoing we make beautiful sacrifices to the cool night.

old picnic table
rusting screws
manage to survive

Haibun 11

In the dirty, almost empty bar, a band is playing. Blasts of sounds ripple clothes and dulled senses. A few people hang about drinking and swaying to the music. In a corner a middle aged couple exchange tongues and fondle one another, the youth surrounding them.

battered leather stools
support the young and the old
to exchange places

Tanka 7

7
In the first calm
cool spring rain
the world takes
a shower and
removes its worms

Thinks I like-A Poem

In my opinion this poem is far from finished and I myself am not even sure how much I like it. Comments and suggestions welcome.

Things I Like

There are many things that I like.
I like being named Floom.
It sounds funny,
And people usually remember me.

I like books, boobs, beer in that order,
Followed closely by breakfast,
Baseball, being, Bob Dylan.
Not bombs, never bombs.

I enjoy people, most of them anyway.
They make me feel connected,
In each conversation something new,
Yapping about nothing does just fine.

I love each person that I meet because
There is no other way to live.
I’m sure there are some that don’t love.
Give them tears, give them tears.

I put my foot in my mouth,
not because it tastes good.
I’m inappropriate,
And I deserve it.

I like loud music in bars,
Speakers rippling clothes.
Music is a pulse.
And let it beat, and let it beat.

Religion doesn’t work for me.
I can look out my window or
Walk down the street and feel the
Touch of spirit in everything.

I drive fast because driving
is like thinking, and thinking
uses gas, and everybody is trying
to go green, to go green.

I have sinned. Criticized,
fibbed, stolen, cursed,
smoked a cigarette,
and then smoked a cigarette again.

I am human,
Imperfection with a
mix of thought and animal.
Warm blooded, warm blooded.

Haiku 16

Removed...for consideration somewhere else

Poems from my Window

Below is a small collection of poems that stemmed from opening my window for the first time since winter began.

Ikkyu Couplet

The door can be closed,
But the window is always open.

Haiku 15

open window
high heals clomping
in the night

Tanka

Open window in spring
Cool calming breeze,
carries the sound of
clomping heels.
I am never truly alone.


Haibun 10

Night. I sit in my room alone. The window is open and a cool breeze has an uplifting quality. I can feel a hunger and energy inside me. Something has flipped a switch. Restlessness in the night forces productivity, an inner drive to some unknown end that Spring herself doesn’t understand.

outside heels click
and curiosity
drives my eyes away

Persona Poetry

I'll leave it up to you to guess the Persona I'm using here.

1. Reliability

Turn on my keys
And fire me up

We’ll go places
And do things

We’ll go to work
and when the day is done

I’ll see you get home.

2. Speed

Let me sit in an empty parking lot
at night when the dusk conceals us.

I can be your vessel,
your mobile island shelter.

Be gentle with your passenger,
She is new, pure and sweet.

Please tomorrow,
Won’t you clean my seats?

3. Insurance

How dare you, you
insolent ignorant fuck.

Turn the wheel
Guide me true.

Save me now
from the destruction.

It’s all to late in these last seconds,
In the instance we shall part.

Tanka Poetry

1
Dim lights,
in an old bar.
Days last light-
fading as the
flies congregate.

2
To the woman,
her arms and ample chest covered
in indigo tattoos-
My friend is in love,
with your art.

3
In the chilled night,
a hint of spring blows-
through the dying city.
The absence of people
tells all.

4
Driving with the windows down:
The air rushing in
Complements the radio.
Erasing all fears of dulled senses-
Passing by a cop: all breath ceases.

5
A piss before bed,
Long lasting relief
in the steady golden stream:
the spoils of battles won
and foes of the evening passed.

Haibun 9

Removed...

Haibun 7

This Haibun has been removed for submission to Contemporary Haibun.

Haibun 6

This Haibun has been removed for submission to Contemporary Haibun.

Haiku 13 (Gift Haiku)

This poem was written as a gift to a Native American Healer that came to my poetry class a few weeks ago. I felt a little awkward about it because everybody else had neat printed copies or cards whereas I had to rip mine out of my notebook and forgot to put my name on it. I hope that he enjoyed it never the less, I actually spent a lot of time and care working on it.

Lift my spirits high,
Send me your gracious insights-
fly away on wings

Haiku 11

Iris in the sky
outline the wide universe-
in your basking glow.

Haiku 10

Me and my roommates found a stray kitten out in the cold about two or three weeks ago. We couldn't bare to let it freeze to death so we took it in for a few nights.

Haiku 10

Stray cat
cold concrete
rolling

Ikkyu Poetry

This is some of my poetry in the style of Ikkyu. The point is to be playful and offer insights on life. Feel free to let me know what you think. For some reason I think perhaps this style takes my work to a bit of the extreme content wise. Maybe it's the playfulness and the fact that in the style of Ikkyu any subject and insight is up for grabs.

I shovel a path through the snow just to make it by
I do the same with living

I was taking a shit in the bathroom and saw ants crawling on the floor
‘bet they hated the view from down there

Fuck expensive booze
it all does the same thing in the end

Sometimes I try to chew gum instead of cigarettes
the fire tastes better

Everyday I try to run ahead of the pack
but somehow the pack always ends up in front of me

Haibun 5

I debated a long time before posting this. I see my Haibun taking new directions, more so into past images for some reason. This is written about my friend Mark who died in a car crash over the summer. I have been struggling over the thought to write about it and I know deep down that I need too. The events of that July 4th weekend I returned to BG, the funeral, the calling hours:it still haunts me. His parents, family, all of my friends, twenty of us staying at my small shitty rental house on Wooster St for three days-sleeping in the garage, cars, etc. Going through it together. There is something there, a story, an account, but a part of me feels it is to surreal for words. The greatest challenge I have is writing about myself (perhaps the hidden use of this blog).

What still haunts me is his facebook page, which has not yet been deactivated. People use it as a living electronic testament to him and still occasionally post things on his wall. Sometimes it's a reflection, sometimes its a simple "I miss you". They used his quotes on his info page in his calling hours as well as a few notes he had written. I find it remarkable and foreign at the same time.

Haibun 5

I am friends on facebook with a dead person. He is my true friend. And when he died innocently in a car crash, people posted on his wall. It’s still there seven months later. I still don’t know what to write.

electronic epitaph
elegies never spoken
I am wordless still

Ryokan Poem

This past Friday's moon was absolutely huge and beautiful. I figured I'd share this poem. It is in the spirit of Ryokan (at least I hope so), a hermit Zen Buddhist monk.

Large bright moon-iris glowing.
I walk down the streets,
Hard asphalt is black-
Snow gleams in the radiant lunar glow.
People’s faces frantic in the night.
Pulled like waterless waves,
They laugh with one another.

Haiku 2

Pale white skin
turning pink,
on cold snowy ground.

Haiku 1

Pecking on the keys:
the condor is endangered,
flown towards the sun.

Haibun 1

After revising this piece I have sent it off for consideration at Haibun Today. I have removed it just in case it does indeed get published. How awesome would that be?

Reflections on Blogging

Hello all. What follows is my first blog post. I have considered starting a blog for some time now, but never really put any serious thought into it until the start of this school year. Up until recently I have been a little biased towards the idea of a blog, considering it just another aspect of the internet to dominate ones life and the only real purpose of it being an online journal. I am a very private person, so the idea of putting a journal on the internet really did not appeal to me. Recently I've found that many people are sharing their creative work on blogs, and as a creative writer it sparked my interest.

When it comes to writing I have always held the view that it is something highly personal. That being said the only time I've really shared any of my work was in the workshop/academic setting. With this blog I intend to take the plunge and really put some of my shorter work out there. I intend to start posting some short haiku pieces up just to start things off. Please take into consideration that the art of the haiku is something completely new to me, and something that I have absolutely no background knowledge of. Later on down the road I will most likely post some parts of short stories, or perhaps even little bits of writing projects that I've been working on.

Feel free to read, comment, and hopefully enjoy.