A tradition in Modern American Poetry since 2005. Please visit my companion site, www.virtualpoetryreading.com and listen to some poetry.
Buddah Moskowitz's Articles
April 1, 2009 by Buddah Moskowitz
Hi - This ain't no April Fool's joke

I've relocated to ihatepoetry.livejournal.com

Also, please continue visiting http://www.virtualpoetryreading.com and http://virtualpoetryreading.com/more/

as I will still be keeping those websites in operation.

 

Thanks to all my readers - Buddah Moskowitz

ihatepoetry@verizon.net

 
March 6, 2009 by Buddah Moskowitz
First, start with the title:it must be directly related to the content of the Poem - or not. Then, begin the Poemwith a phraseof tempting ambiguity,a detail so compellingthat the reader will follow youas you pull back to reveal its unexpectedmilieu. Continue by making an arcane allusionto a 17th century English essayistor by adding a sly referenceto one of the lesser known Beats(nothing from Ginsberg,Kerouac, Burroughs or Bukowski, please) – this will establishyour lit credamong ...
February 19, 2009 by Buddah Moskowitz
Everywhere I lookI see the flocklost in their prayers: young and oldrich and poorJew and Gentile. Each in holy communionhuddled around their electronic beads,their mutant rosaries. Speaking in tonguesto unseen companions, each believer in holy solitudeconnected to something greater than themselves. In gratitude they offer the abstract sacrificeof their time. At last,the world is of one accord. Bridging the gapbetween human lonelinessand cosmic emptinessis this ...
February 5, 2009 by Buddah Moskowitz
This mortality creeps upon me like the relentless single-minded zombies from “Night of the Living Dead.” Death and all her servants  keep dropping hints into my lifelike postcard solicitationsfalling out of magazines. My eyes take longer to refocus. My torso stiffens overnight. My hips surprise me with their occasional ache andsome presumably insightful thoughts vanish before they ever reach my tongue. It’s temptingto luxuriate in the pastbecause I like what...
January 23, 2009 by Buddah Moskowitz
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the day has been paidand now is gone. These days gather speed as they snowball down the hillindifferent to me. In these busy daysnothing is negotiableand no one willbudge. I’m on the losing endof this tug-of-warbut everyday I try to snatch for myself a moment unscheduledwith nothing to do but breatheand lookand glowat the beautiful absurdenigma  of just being  before it’...
January 16, 2009 by Buddah Moskowitz
When her biological father left she dove head first into depression. The counselor provided by my insurance said "well, let's just handleher problems as they come up"not realizing there were five screaming meltdowns just on the car ride over.(This therapist was inover her head.) Her next psychologistaffirmed that she had depression and anxiety, and she was referred to a psychiatrist who prescribed Prozacwhich she took dutifully for three yearsalong with cognitive therapy. Her dark...
January 12, 2009 by Buddah Moskowitz
The world is vacantthis early Sunday morning except for the newspaper deliverer and the liquor storeand the customer who waited for 6am. Mostly people are insidesleeping off hangovers slumbering in a warm bedof post-coital narcosis lone desperationpassed out at a kitchen tablesplayed with overdue billsand trepidation. Some greet the day with reluctancesome will ride bikesand some will never knowSunday morning exists. As I drive my daughter to the early church s...
January 8, 2009 by Buddah Moskowitz
Your lips are missedas are the long weekendswe spent as one. Replaying those old songs,memories come backstripped of any imperfection. There was intrigue in your kissand I became dizzywith the possibilities. I could spend an hourholding your handand every momenthad the thrill of finding an undiscovered river.  Where there was once mysterybuilding a life together has brought comfortso I’m not asking for much,except this:slow down ourspinning planet of noisy obligation,te...
January 6, 2009 by Buddah Moskowitz
My father taught me to develop good habits. “Make it second natureso you don’t have to remember so much.” Clean up after yourself.Iron your work clothes the night before.Work first, then play. These habits hum in me silently in the background like a trusted computer program. But every January 6thI am trapped because the post office doesn’tdeliver to his new locationand my cell phones plan doesn’t include roaming to Heaven. He would have been...
January 5, 2009 by Buddah Moskowitz
I apologize, but I honestly didn’t know – I thought it was allsome primordial fairytalewritten to mete out shadow retributionfor some unspeakable incestuous rape. I disguised my lust and gluttonyas joie de vivreand followed them from every well-intentioned lesson as I blazed my pathetically predictable path. I thought I was giftedwith a vision, but now I seeI was just another in an unending line ofmyopic nonconformists. I stand now at the foot of your crossunder a brui...
October 27, 2008 by Buddah Moskowitz
which is the strugglewalking through the fire orresisting God's will?
October 22, 2008 by Buddah Moskowitz
the muse comes to callI'm too busy to visit--two silent mourners.
July 27, 2008 by Buddah Moskowitz
 Rising from the battlefieldbloodied but unvanquishedshe still radiates. I know the struggle.I nurse her wounds.I am her partner. There is nobilityin her risingand fixing her visionon the next horizon. At times like theseshe appears to meexactly as she didat our beginning: valiant, heroic, and beautiful. The contour of hersmoke-smudged profileand the jewelry of her tearsinspires me as I gird my armature. We embracesilently taking anyhope and strength we canfrom one ...
July 17, 2008 by Buddah Moskowitz
Fully humanand fully divine: the hallmark of humanityis sinfulimperfection and yet you had none. I wonderhow you managed to steer clear of everythingbut the bull’s eye. I reconstruct your ignoble demiselike a forensic scientistsearching for somethingto connect me over the centuriesto you something that would betrayyour humanity. As you hung there dyingand they mocked you,you petitioned the fatherfor a pardon on their behalf. I keep rooting aroundfor even ...
June 25, 2008 by Buddah Moskowitz
The difference between the balance and the slip is microscopic. Remembering the rulesand honoring the impulseare flipsides of each other. Id and superego fight me for the pride of ownership as I struggledailyhourlyand sometimesbetween this thought and this one. And that’s only meand you’re no differentand if we multiply theseinfinitesimal decisionsby 300 million under the right circumstances rioting occursfutures vanishinnocence, rapedand God, forgotten....