Poetry- pre 1995

The Poetry of Paul E Sexton3

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Poetry- pre 1995

Plato Schmato

I hate Plato.
Separating
things and
labeling things.
Plato tells us
that the things we
see around us such
as trees or animals
are not special perfect
thing unto themselves,
only flawed imitations of
the perfect "Ideal" of
these things, such as
tree or animal. An Ideal
that exists separately
from the particulars
that we experience. That
can never be obtained in
the physical world.
NOW if it wasnt for
this ancient Greek
JERK OFF
and the effect his bullshit
has had on Western Culture
Perhaps I would have
found the "Ideal" woman
by now instead of the
flawed women I am forced
to experience in my imperfect
toilet of a
world, and what about
me. How do I measure up?
I hate Plato.

BIRD

Black bird
murderer
Poe like executioner of
senseless carnage.
Death bringer
killer of the
little brown bird outside
my window. Me singing
Bauhaus, Hallowed Hills.
You swoop down upon the tiny
brown bird.
Feathers flying ending his tiny
brown life
with your LARGE
black, so black destructive
tendencies.
I look for a weapon with which
to stop you but all I have is my
breakfast in a plastic bag I grab
an uncooked potato intending
to use it as a projectile to end your
dark unholy vengeance
but then
Black angel of death rises
slowly
wings spread dark foreboding into
SO blue morning sky
dragging brown tattered corpse
toward rooftops
falling brown feathers
unfair agent of chaos
raven crow black death
leaving me
bewildered
saddened
standing foolishly with
a potato
in
my hand.

Crawl Away On Dead Legs

Now
Ive got this dead
COCKROACH
on my bathroom floor.
It must have been
nearly
two weeks
since I
crushed the little bastard
with a hairspray can.
I cant seem
to pick him
up
and flush him.
So he sits
and stares at me.
Death waiting
staring at me
on the crapper.
Staring while I shit.
Staring while I read
comic books
and listen to Cure CDs
I HATE him.
I wish he would crawl away
on DEAD LEGS.

Fear of Knowing

Futuristic indecision.
Past indiscretions.
Colliding
to
create
the here
and
now.

Knowledge
Ignorance
Spinning wheel
of
existing
illusion.

Find
the
spot
you are
here.

Rest

momentarily

then
flee.

Saint T

I see
Mr. T
on my tv
trying to sell
CHRISTIANITY
to me.

He says
give my money
to Pat Robertson,
and Ill be happy.
It aint like tthe A-team
or when he dabbled in
professional wrestling
This time hes
SLUGGIN
FOR JESUS

Perhaps theyll put his
Saturday morning
cartoon show about
traveling acrobatic kids
back on.

However,
dispite his new found clout
(with the lord God)
and his rep with the kids
and no matter how
sincerely he looks at me
I cant forget that
he killed Burges Merideth
in Rocky Three!

Green Ones

The green ones.
So dark black
in the middle, a fleck
of light. The middle
appears white, slightly.
Staring down, not blinking.
Roll over slowly.
Out stretching yawn.
Twitching of small hairs.
Hairs, short and black.
Rippling motion on
sides as a twisting
motion turns those
shadow eyes
this way again.
Crouching in the
corner, beneath wicker,
it shakes at the
end. Either
fear or anticipation.
Walk slowly away
careful to check
all paths
ahead

High Rent, Three Rings

Of the three guys
one was quite large like
Lenny from "Of Mice and Men"
and he looked just as stupid
as he rolled a tire in front
of where he walked and the
stocky waddling midget would have
been George, but much much shorter
and they would have looked natural
together except for the cowboy in
the purple tank top carrying the
orange jam box, who was apparently
their friend. And together, they
appeared something like a circus act.
Wondering through the apartment
complex that was so large, and because
far too many people lived there.
it seemed that they had begun
to take the absurd for granted.