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 » Page 4
August 6, 2007 by Buddah Moskowitz
I wasn’t watching my step and I slipped and now I’m sinking there’s nothing exotic or adventuresome in this struggle I seem helpless to fight its narcotic pull disconnected despairing and lonely details upon problems upon burden upon miseries weighing down my shoulders pushing down on my head I watch the world hustling by noisy unaffected and laughing as I sink further into this blue quicksand I try and stay calm and say to myself “I’ve been her...
July 25, 2007 by Buddah Moskowitz
Missing In Action: Shovelheat New-Age Nomad Dr. Donald Dynamaso Ms. Mitchell KellyW. JohnnyMasuda DeathByBeebles all my online regulars have all moved on back to their careers their spouses or perhaps even The Great Beyond all I know is they’re not here and I’m still here cranking it out like moldy sausage there was a time when I looked forward to their reflection for validation but now I have this empty mirror and my lone histrionic voice crying out...
July 19, 2007 by Buddah Moskowitz
"we'll get out of Indiana somehow" he breathlessly promised as they raced each other to nakedness in the basement of James' parent's house in the blue glow of an unattended television they threw the dice as his parents slept blissfully unaware. That was November. Months melted slowly they made a pact and their secret grew inside her. When people started to notice Jessie dropped out in her senior year nobody was certain and nobody asked. His parents were skept...
July 17, 2007 by Buddah Moskowitz
His book of photographs betrays his memory was he ever that thin? and what of that unctuous smile he wore like a mask? and what did he see in her because now all he sees is a stranger he used to lay naked next to whoever he was he smiled too hard and convinced no one especially himself. In this group shot everyone looks more drunken and alive than he does. When I look at his picture all I notice are his collection of scars and his oversized Achilles’ Heel. He...
July 10, 2007 by Buddah Moskowitz
I stroll the aisle my poisonous paramours are all there smiling and beckoning “come on, it’s been 17 years” I swallow hard but do not look away approaching slowly I stroke her neck and in my reverie I am swimming in her taken back years ago virginal before responsibility I put her on my lips and she offered me the kiss of life and I happily reciprocated but I was an unfaithful lover and I sucked on so many others desperately promiscuous somewhere alo...
June 21, 2007 by Buddah Moskowitz
I want to be an old man with you to weave a lifetime tapestry and repaint bedrooms plant more Korean boxwoods and take more pictures of the kids as they dress up and become adults I want to be an old man with you and feel the warm reassuring grip of your hand as we stroll through Decembers and sit on our bench on the warm July nights beneath a blanket of ancient stars I want to be an old man with you and remember all the ways we changed and inwardly smile because w...
June 13, 2007 by Buddah Moskowitz
Their dad moved to Montana the weekend before Father’s Day and my two teenagers acted like it was no big deal but I know the truth but my Little Blonde Talking Monkey reacted with her expected shower of tears and guilty anxiety she tells me “Dad deserves to be happy too” as I rock her crying heaving body I suggested they each pick out a Father’s Day card for him so he wouldn’t be forgotten in Montana (the reason he left: “there was nothing for him in Califo...
June 6, 2007 by Buddah Moskowitz
Every morning I go down to the garage and lift the large metal door and I get on my Nordic track hamster wheel and walk 3.5 miles per hour at a 7 incline for 30 minutes this is the way I try to keep high cholesterol and heart disease at bay I live as the unnatural man I find myself with the unnatural problems of too much food and too little activity as I plod along in the misty morning air I see the plants with the long stems and the bright blue flowers and ...
May 25, 2007 by Buddah Moskowitz
I returned to the temple seeking God and knowledge it’d been months since I was there but that same cool embrace of air conditioning and quiet history welcomed me as though I never left and I found many ideas there perhaps too many for one lifetime but I marveled at what a lifetime of learning I had awaiting me and I walked where the words of Jesus were and I read the titles on every spine and there were so many invitations just waiting for me and ...
May 23, 2007 by Buddah Moskowitz
The comforting illusion is that each one of us is separate and the things that separate you from me are real where my skin ends and the air begins and where the air ends your skin begins is an elaborate delusion most of us see the world as a collection of disparate puzzle pieces but I’m trying through prayer compassion and forgiveness to see the truth we’ve been taught to ignore: from the moment of our conception in our mother’s womb we are attached we a...
May 10, 2007 by Buddah Moskowitz
The stubble outline of a freshly shaved head forces a question: was this a choice or was it a default? I watch with bemused recognition their vainglorious and futile fight against the ravages of time I embrace the wrinkles on my face in the hope they’ll resemble the wrinkles on my brain I offer this prayer to the Eternal God: let me accept this entropy gracefully gratefully to err is human to forgive, divine so I forgive my eyes their diminishing cl...
May 7, 2007 by Buddah Moskowitz
and it can get you laid and you’ll make an obscene fortune and your sainthood will be secured and fame will embrace you and your genitals will become larger and your doubts will silence and everything will be perfect and if you believe all that then keep sending entry fees to online poetry contests and keep that thesaurus within reach and don’t stop your production of densely packed blocks of literary meringue imagery but don’t show me because I hate poetry and the pedi...
May 3, 2007 by Buddah Moskowitz
144/110 was the blood pressure reading and I immediately began calculating odds deathclock.com predicted I would die in July 2037 at 74 and realage.com said my body was closer to 49 than my actual 43 my waist is still under 40 so I take comfort in that but the number that hangs around haunting me is 64 that’s when my Pop cashed out or rather God cashed him out and if I die after 2023 she doesn’t get the insurance money but the house will be mostly paid for ...
April 25, 2007 by Buddah Moskowitz
Looking at the oily French fries I saw a stain on the discolored melmac plate and I wondered: what caused this? was it a fresh stain or has it been here for years? did the cook wash his hands or for that matter did he scratch his dark oily hair? As I bit into my pastrami sandwich the eternal warning returned: don’t think too much about it. I’ve been told this my whole life as I attempt to scale the holy trinity or when I’m trying too hard to have an erection t...
April 24, 2007 by Buddah Moskowitz
things seem right but unexpectedly over a bowl of cereal they twist and voices raise pulses pound and words are sprayed like so much buckshot I watch my wife and daughter in their standoff of anger and accusation she’s just being mean she won’t listen I don’t know who’s saying what anymore as I try to find my briefcase and sneak off to my job so I can pay for this fight to continue another day Buy my book before it goes out of print!!