Author: mlmichael

sir laffsalot

He laughed often, at least once a day.
one could catch him snorting under his breath,
erupting in guffaw, or exclaiming one great hah!
In fact, nary a day went by,
without some kind of humor coming into play. […]

Sir Laffsalot

He laughed often, at least once a day. 
one could catch him snorting under his breath,
erupting in guffaw, or exclaiming one great hah!
In fact, nary a day went by, 
without some kind of humor coming into play.

Those that knew him said that was the key to his success,
for his youthful vim and his enduring optimism…

Was it the laughter that made all of that possible – 
or was the laughter mere consequence?
Each laugh a declaration 
defining the merit of childish joy.

M. L. Michael 
/2/1/09/

About…

So, I found waldo

One night I was traipsing my way home from the bar
and there, down an alley, crumpled against a wall, was a figure
that wouldn’t normally cause me to pause,
except I noticed this familiar red and white striped sweater.

Carefully I plodded down the alley and roused the bum,
To which he snorted and grunted for me to go away, […]

So, I Found Waldo…

One night I was traipsing my way home from the bar
and there, down an alley, crumpled against a wall, was a figure
that wouldn’t normally cause me to pause,
except I noticed this familiar red and white striped sweater.

Carefully I plodded down the alley and roused the bum,
To which he snorted and grunted for me to go away,
But when I caught a glimpse of his thick black glasses,
I knew I had found the man I spent a childhood searching for.

‘Oh wow, you’re Waldo! Oh-my-god, I’ve found Waldo!’
Then hard as a hammer he struck at me and hissed:
“You fool! Leave me be. I am no one special, oh, 
  I have nothing no one could ever have missed!”

‘But…you’re Waldo…and I found you,
 all my life everyone’s been looking for you,
 and I’m the one that finally found you!’

“Yes… I am Waldo, and, yes, you found me,
  but whoever said I wanted to be found is a fraud.
  You see, I became lost for a reason.
  Now leave me be before I make people
  start wondering where you’ve gone.”

‘But…you’re Waldo…and I found you,’ I repeated, 
 and left feeling defeated, feeling thoroughly rejected…

/01/23/09
M. L. Michael

About…

since when…

since when did i begin to dream of you as poison,
since when did our lust rust into a kind of toxin,
was it when you sang to me like a siren,
with your hot whispers oiling my inhibitions,
or
was it when you and i shared a bed,[…]

Since When…

since when did i begin to dream of you as poison,
since when did our lust rust into a kind of toxin,
was it when you sang to me like a siren,
with your hot whispers oiling my inhibitions,
or
was it when you and i shared a bed,
and i couldn’t control that little child in my head,
who dreamed whenever you said whatever you said,
that our love was the kind that lasted long after we’re dead,
---
you sang your songs, you sang your songs,
to right my wrongs, to right my wrongs,
when all along you knew, all along you knew,
empty promises tear thru, empty promises tear thru,
---
since when did ‘love’ become a subjective term,
since when did your silence become a cold burn,
was it after you saw how much i could yearn,
how much your love is what i forever sought to confirm,
or
was it always all about some kind of esteem,
and, as an after thought, there was our dream,
our love for another that fit perfect into the grand scheme,
with you and i: the pseudo-wonderful-team,
---
i sang my songs, i sang my songs,
to right your wrongs, to right your wrongs,
when all along i knew, all along i knew,
such pleasure aint true, such pleasure aint true…

=

+
/1/19/09/
M. L. Michael
+

About…

a poet first, a blasphemer second

i find it easier to put my faith in poetry
than my constant struggle with the Holy Trinity…

i believe in verse that i can rehearse
above any Father i can never Fathom…

i believe in lyrics real as lilacs
instead of a Son too bright to never See… […]

A Poet First, A Blasphemer Second

i find it easier to put my faith in poetry
than my constant struggle with the Holy Trinity…

i believe in verse that i can rehearse
above any Father i can never Fathom…

i believe in lyrics real as lilacs
instead of a Son too bright to never See…

all in all,

i believe in words that carry their worth in weight
not some Holy Spirit i can confuse with values i create.


/01/14/09/
M. L. Michael

About…

brutal honesty is not for the weak hearted (NSFW)

I only think of you,
when my dick is hard &
aching for some-kind-of
hungrin’-human-touch-and-touch
like some-kind-of
inticin’-invitin’-such-and-such.[…]

Brutal Honesty Is Not For The Weak Hearted.
(A ‘Single’ Explanation)

I only think of you,
when my dick is hard &
aching for some-kind-of
hungrin’-human-touch-and-touch
like some-kind-of
inticin’-invitin’-such-and-such.

I can barely hide it-
I can’t keep dry in my dreams
I certainly can’t wake up in the morning
without that solid rock-of-gibralter
pumping these thoughts of pumping
through my body like rigor mortis,
with the thought of you;
and your promise of la petite mort.

…

When all I have to do is ignore it away,
or secretly erase it through-
and once my desire is shed away
I’m no longer thinking of you…
(and I find I no longer give a fuck
 rather you would ever give one to me)

/01/10/09/
M. L. Michael

About…

please delete

dear deity, i want to format: myself,
and reinstall a more stable and secure OS,
one that might not be compatible right off the shelf,
but with a bit of work, it will save me a load of BS.

really, i don’t mind if you click select-all and press delete,
most of those files are corrupt, the rest are wearing thin, [..]

Please Delete
(a new year sonnet)

dear deity, i want to format: myself,
and reinstall a more stable and secure OS,
one that might not be compatible right off the shelf,
but with a bit of work, it will save me a load of BS.

really, i don’t mind if you click select-all and press delete,
most of those files are corrupt, the rest are wearing thin,
and anything resembling unique remains vastly incomplete,
so do me a large favor: don’t forget to empty the recycle bin.

and with regards to an OS, anything different will suffice,
anything different must run better than this,
so fare thee well blue screen of death, goodbye error: device,
say hello to anything with a better guarantee than ‘hit or miss’.

                                 then: freshly formatted and reinstalled, i will compute to win,
                                 until a few years pass, and i will wish to be formatted again.


M. L. Michael 
1/2/09

About…

my heart said…my gut said…

My heart said ‘what glorious luck! she doth love me again!’
My gut said ‘oh, no, I am so sorry to hear that.’
My heart said ‘you don’t get it, this time will be different!’
My gut said ‘no, no it won’t. it will end soon with you broken.’
My heart said ‘blasphemer! she told me she had changed!’
My gut said ‘your memory is worse than your sense.’ […]

My heart said…My gut said…

My heart said ‘what glorious luck! she doth love me again!’
My gut said ‘oh, no, I am so sorry to hear that.’
My heart said ‘you don’t get it, this time will be different!’
My gut said ‘no, no it won’t. it will end soon with you broken.’
My heart said ‘blasphemer! she told me she had changed!’
My gut said ‘your memory is worse than your sense.’
My heart said ‘but I don’t care! for her I’d steal the heavens!’
My gut said ‘but she don’t care, and you’ll still do the time.’
My heart said ‘damn you! I’m not listening!’
My gut said ‘I know, and I’m sorry…’

12/19/08
M. L. Michael

About…

Some kind of telepathy

i want you to ‘close’ your eyes and think:
no matter when/&/wherever you are right now – here i am,
right here writing of You.

so- think of me sitting outside; my journal and pen in lap,
breezily surfing along these azure thoughts
of the You that transcends my time and space. […]

Some Kind of Telepathy


i want you to ‘close’ your eyes and think:
 no matter when/&/wherever you are right now – here i am,
 right here writing of You.

so- think of me sitting outside; my journal and pen in lap,
 breezily surfing along these azure thoughts 
 of the You that transcends my time and space.

  (my musings about You: where are you when you read this;
  how much more wondrous have you become?)

and i want You to realize, that this poem is us connecting,
 across the spans of any when/&/wherever,
 and no matter when/&/wherever that will be,
 i’m forever right here, writing of Thee.

11/30/08
M. L. Michael

About…

i wish you could see what i see

I wish you could see what I see
;
morning’s dew
misting on the berries and burrs
marveling around the feet of a tree […]

I wish you could see what I see
;
morning’s dew
 misting on the berries and burrs 
  marveling around the feet of a tree
.
and I wish you could hear what I hear
;
 cricket-time chirping
  caroling with baritone bullfrogs
   croaking out a tune of “right here!”
.

11/01/08
M. L. Michael 

 `

About…

hyperbole owns all

America’s the biggest fan of hyperbole
Because there’s no greater figure of speech
or greater poetic device for today’s poetry,
that mirrors the rhetoric of those that preach.[…]

Hyperbole Owns All.
(The Greatest Sonnet Ever!) 

America’s the biggest fan of hyperbole
Because there’s no greater figure of speech
or greater poetic device for today’s poetry,
that mirrors the rhetoric of those that preach.

Hyperbole can solve all the world’s woes
better than any sort of euphemisms,
Hyperbole will rock you from your head to your toes,
by being that ism to end all isms.

So listen up and listen well,
Hyperbole can and will save us all from destruction
With the gilded promise of a solid sell
Hyperbole can and will obliterate any form of obstruction. 

Until you stop, and you think, and you look it up in the dictionary,
and there you discovery that hyperbole is really quite silly.  


M. L. Michael 
[9-15-08 –– 10-30-08]

About…