Honestly, I'm a Liar, & Other Balances & Imbalances

June 8, 2017

Amen, Brother

Filed under: Uncategorized — namelessneed @ 8:52 am




May 29, 2017


Filed under: fragments, lost, POEM, poetry, prose, Uncategorized — Tags: , , , — namelessneed @ 2:28 pm




Where is the wound that shines?

Well Over 50 years on

Over this  his day, on?

My Back  way against all this memorial day shite  here

I’ll intentionally send me  to a ill-shielded shy there,

Back at  again to that  day where

I’m Far  too young  to fathom,

Or even  notice  yr. crevasse,

Yr  Grande Malaise,

Yr. countdown…Yr. Pass.

It makes me madly think now

It takes  the saddest thing    to tell now..

Stuck in a stack of old NewYorkers

There’s this raw cartoon drawing;

A mere boy  drawn in black & white

Stands on a step of his own basement,  stares,

He did look down on his own  livid  apocalypse,

His lips, and the caption say

“It’s  A.O.K.”


Here is the wound that shines

Tonight, a glint off yr. cracked onyx ring.

I lift it  in my open fist to my lips.



L  O  O  K


Hope  we’re having  a heaven  so

I’ll look all about  &

Daddy can call out, (& it won’t hurt, no)

He’ll look just like he just got home from work:

“There’s my inquisitive young man,” he’d shout.

We’d have it out;

My young man’s mystery,

His young man’s misery.

We’d upheave it out. One Heavy inquiry would unfold

If he mightn’t have killed himself  he might have taught me:

“You gotta take the bite of bitter with the cold”


My Mother could steady things when she told me

When I was ready she told me:

“I know, I know,

With time…

We’ll  heal.

He  was  not  well.

They say  that You/

Have his look.

You  know.

You know

I say  ‘You’ll/

Try having my smile’”.





For always, again, rest in peace, daddy 3/21/1929-5/29/1959

May 8, 2017


Filed under: Uncategorized — namelessneed @ 10:19 am

I’m  ripe  with  dereliction

My repast  still  strewn out before me

I’ll lap seeds from fruit eden fronts me

Though I’ll stick slow to my sloth….my depiction

April 12, 2017

Gethsemane, by Mary Oliver

Filed under: Uncategorized — namelessneed @ 10:01 am



Gethsemane, by Mary Oliver

The grass never sleeps.
Or the roses.
Nor does the lily have a secret eye that shuts until morning.
Jesus said, wait with me. But the disciples slept.
The cricket has such splendid fringe on its feet,
and it sings, have you noticed, with its whole body,
and heaven knows if it ever sleeps.
Jesus said, wait with me. And maybe the stars did, maybe the wind wound itself into a silver tree, and didn’t move, maybe
the lake far away, where once he walked as on a
blue pavement,
lay still and waited, wild awake.
Oh the dear bodies, slumped and eye-shut, that could not
keep that vigil, how they must have wept,
so utterly human, knowing this too
must be a part of the story.

March 27, 2017

“BURDEN” ( Lesson From Bergman’s “The Seventh Seal”)

Filed under: Uncategorized — namelessneed @ 4:01 pm


March 22, 2017

Birthday Tribute

Filed under: music, poetry, rhyme, Uncategorized — Tags: , , , — namelessneed @ 12:52 pm

It’s likely/ It could be

That when Leonard Bernstein,

At his piano bench…

It was very late when he,

In a creative trance,

Had opened an envelope

From a Mr. Stephen Sondheim,

And started to work on

A musical phrasing for

“There’s a place for us”,

He eyedropped a gold teardrop

Into a test tube, & heaven reacted,


& now can make me ache

20,000 late nights after






Happy birthday, Mr.Stephen Sondheim

March 10, 2017

No Verse

Filed under: Uncategorized — namelessneed @ 11:15 am

Since the day before Donald Trump’s inauguration, filmmaker Ethan Coen (brother to Joel) has been a writing politically-tinged poems as a blogger for the Huffington Post, penning articles such as “Be Fair!“, “Wasn’t Wanted,” and my personal favorite, “Oh Where Did Your Balls Go, Paul Ryan?” (His bio reads, “Ethan Coen is a totally overrated filmmaker. Sad!”)…

via Ethan Coen for Poet Laureate of the United States! — Flavorwire

March 3, 2017

Knocking On A Locksmith’s Door

Filed under: Uncategorized — namelessneed @ 11:48 am



I need to knock on a locksmith’s door.

It’s trying   on my entrance in

It has me hammering   for him,

The  man outside, stands right in a stance

On his  home mat.

My security windows live up to their damn claim.

Cats perched there can watch me.

I Calmly curse in the rain,

Calm for keys  that Mercy sees

Cures to unlatch me.



March 1, 2017


Filed under: Uncategorized — namelessneed @ 11:56 am




“The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of true art and true science.”
Albert Einstein, The World As I See It

February 25, 2017


Filed under: Uncategorized — namelessneed @ 11:17 am




The Danes have hygge, the sense of coziness that helps propel them to to the top of all those happiness rankings. The Swedes have, um, Ikea. But in the ranking of trendy Scandinavian exports, Finland’s coming in hot: Introducing kalsarikannit, a Finnish term that roughly translates to “drinking home alone in your underwear, with no intention of going out.”

As my colleague Melissa Dahl has written for Science of Us, there’s a certain satisfaction that comes with putting a name to the highly specific emotion you’re experiencing — like ilinx, French for “the strange excitement of wanton destruction,” or torschlusspanik, a German term for the panicky sensation of time running out. With kalsarikannit, the Finns have given us a similar gift: You’re not just being too lazy to make plans. This is your plan. You’re doing something, and that thing has a name, and that name is kalsarikannit-ing.

Or something like that, anyway. “Is it a noun? A verb? Does one kalsarikannit, or does one take a kalsarikannit?” a Chicago Tribune writer wondered. It’s not totally clear, but according to its description on Finland’s list of country-specific emoji, the concept may best be understood less as an activity and more as a state of mind. (Other emoji, in case you were wondering, include a sauna, “the original Santa,” and, weirdly, a headbanger, the last of which is helpfully captioned with this fun fact: “There are more heavy metal bands in Finland per capita than anywhere else.”)

The beauty of the whole thing, though, is that when you’re drunk in your underpants, it’s just so hard to be bothered about whether or not you’re using it right. As the Tribune put it: “Who cares, frankly — turns out my house has been a temple to kalsarikannit this entire time.” That’s the kalsarikannit spirit.

                                                                                                                          – Cari Romm

« Newer PostsOlder Posts »