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 In Poetry » Page 2
May 28, 2008 by Buddah Moskowitz
We study the pieces of the puzzle splayed on the kitchen table   just me and my special daughter, the one with the flashflood anger, who screams an unconvincingly “I hate you!” right to my face.   When she rages I comfort her through inexplicable tantrums boiling tears and the confessional non sequitur “I hate Dad!”   We keep taking her t...
May 19, 2008 by Buddah Moskowitz
Looking around this profane and prodigious marketplace, there is one answer for everything:   larger breasts.   If it cannot sell on its own merits,   if it is deemed inferior and rightfully ignored by the masses then put a pair of big tits on it.   And if the tits aren’t big enough, make them bigger.   This is neither a great secret nor insi...
May 12, 2008 by Buddah Moskowitz
Marry me today and bathe this moment in golden hope   promise that you cannot live without me just as my heart knows this truth for me   light our unity candle with your adoring gaze   let us embrace exchanging whispers as we sway to a song that only we hear   and when we’re apart walk through your day wistfully aware that you are incomplete   ...
May 9, 2008 by Buddah Moskowitz
As elusive as the mystery of that rattling sound under the hood of my ’79 Aspen is poetry.   Auto mechanics like poets see how everything should fit and can discern a perfect specimen immediately   but I’ve no formal schooling in anything artistic.   I tried writing poems plays essays and jokes failing in predictable unremarkable w...
May 7, 2008 by Buddah Moskowitz
Don’t oversleep don’t curse the alarm clock don’t wake up the others   don’t go to work without shaving don’t wear that tie with those pants don’t leave without kissing her goodbye   don’t drive like a maniac don’t get in an accident don’t be late to the office   don’t be unproductive don’t go to non-work-related websites don’t daydream about sex   don...
May 6, 2008 by Buddah Moskowitz
Strolling through the church courtyard I passed the purple flowers   and suddenly a host of butterflies appeared and swirled about me in mad abandon.   This floating laurel of fluttering wings surrounded me and became my retinue.   As I walked among them I heard them singing:   “Glory to God on high! King David has returned to us!”   I did noth...
March 26, 2008 by Buddah Moskowitz
  Hundreds of poetry websites thousands of poets millions of poems. I send up mine and hope it will not be lost in the cyber-abyss but I know better. My smoke sculpture soul and precious imagery are superfluous and temporal as inconsequential as the confetti trampled and left for dead in Times Square on New Year’s Day at 6:07 a.m.  
March 11, 2008 by Buddah Moskowitz
It feels quicker than a blink since I first saw you and took you to raise up as my very own. Through laughter, patience scrapes and tenderness, I readied you for a cold and undeserving world. Through the seasons you blossomed and the world became resplendent with possibility when seen through your naive and limitless vision. I knew the world would sing your song once you taught them. You asked if I was ready and I snapped awake from my reverie. With a weak, sincere sm...
February 28, 2008 by Buddah Moskowitz
Somewhere else is what I want but right here is all I'm gonna get and all I need according to God. So I'll walk through it without booze or pills or illicit thrills. You walked through this howling madhouse of no escape and let them nail you to the cross where you died for me. You're just a big show-off Jesus. You suffered for me. I pray I can return the favor.
January 28, 2008 by Buddah Moskowitz
All night I worshipped her blankety-blank without a single thankety-thank so I called her a middle-aged blankety-blank (to give her collar a yankety-yank) then I pinched her on the blankety-blank (it was really just a prankety-prank) she hissed "don't you touch my blankety-blank!" (I was hoping she'd give me a spankety-spank) but she just covered up her blankety-blank and asked how much I drankety-drank and then my heart just sankety-sank when she declared "never again...
January 3, 2008 by Buddah Moskowitz
You just can’t understand the pressure the expectation everyone claiming you wanting a piece of you the Jews claim me as one of theirs own but you know how that all ended up and the Christians think they’re all doing things in my name the Muslims call me a prophet but still subordinate me the Buddhists draw parallels and come closer than most and the atheists love me because they find their strongest arguments in my weakest followers I’m tired of being e...
November 29, 2007 by Buddah Moskowitz
We sleep together deep through the winter restlessly in summer we fall asleep holding hands sometimes curled like shrimp sometimes we are a human pretzel of limbs desire dreams and exhaustion in between our sleeping we nurture small triumphs we persevere we work through misunderstanding and unintentional hurt but thankfully we ripple with laughter too on nights when I can’t sleep I watch her sleeping and smile so big that I can almost hear it I study the e...
November 15, 2007 by Buddah Moskowitz
I’m looking for a slower and kinder world where little things aren’t passed over and cellphones don’t buzz like horseflies where kindness isn’t an inconvenience because there’s never too much of a hurry I will savor that spicy Thai chicken and really try to penetrate the mystery of that sky and how blue can it really be and money can’t buy it and it cannot be possessed just gently coaxed from a grateful heart it all goes by so quickly seemingly...
November 8, 2007 by Buddah Moskowitz
in my sadness I went to the bookstore to find something that would fix me In the "Self-Help" section I found books on money sex communication dieting dating & romance but not how to undo painful memories how to make the newness reappear how to make her forget that really cruel and hateful remark I had been saving up for years I left without buying anything when I realized I was too late I didn't need a self-help book I needed a time machine
November 2, 2007 by Buddah Moskowitz
Here I go again secretly picking up my favorite blade and cutting myself I don't know what I'm chasing but sometimes I find it perhaps someday I'll no longer need to pick at the scab and feel the sting as I tear my beautiful brown skin open to provide a canvas for all this pain sometimes if the skin is intact I will swallow it in a shameful communion "this is my body broken by everyone" and as the full rich red slowly drips down my forearm I tast...