Poems by Robert L. Seltman
Haiku Stringer for the Hangman
Tormenting chatter
bladders down my ears
taped role play
looped on replay
Sitting heavy acid tummy
hurry lunch
Ham fed baloney mashed in place.
Nobody asked yet you listen allowing
fragrant freedom through a hole
calling my body
‘follow’.
Soothing soft cream
make my day
Singing sparrow to no ear.
Choke air cloister,
a class where
my scratch throat
shits songs of sin
before swine.
Simple construction
or architectural blunder
stupidity rains on my Kyoto
Wailing assassins and greed
weak minds murdering a sacred city.
The Prince and new bride
wade through
oblivious to their own death.
|
Gene Pool
Named for a man
who held my father's
love
Holding me now
a life in his image.
guilt.
Dad's Dad died
His beloved brother
killed young
This son gone his own way…
more betrayal?
Separation
from the past
without burying the living?
What we say to our children,
when we try to make
them like ourselves.
Eat my Shit.
Family coming,
rainy reason blue. |
Deserts of Silence
How sacred and
refreshing
soft peaceful
suzuki weeds
waving in the wind
|
Hiei-zan
Powder blues, pink, and green
softly sets my mountain.
Bright red, yellow, and party blue
flowers sit on our sill
a generous gardener's gift.
Color a paint by number bible.
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Poetry
Fearing death
I number the pages.
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Command
Be air
Express farts
Fling clouds of fragrance everywhere.
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Sweet Samson Savitri
Sweeping
cleaning the inscriptions for translation
a cryptic soul opened to the sun
Wisdom given a chance to breath.
Untied from knots
gnarly and rotten
her light holy hands |
Holy Faster
Living on air.
Seasoned in my salty heaven
with a peppery pinch of hunger's Hell
Soft scented rain
caressing students
as they run for cover.
Maternal patience
wetting all with
father's love.
|
Was Wednesday
Creeping upon a birthday
Two soft creams for lunch
a simple solution for sadness
In my majestic
philosopher's book shop
I am free momentarily
suspended on my delicious dialogue
of boyhood didactic dreams
Nishitani on Nihilism
Nietsche mirror Max Stirner
warm memories
masculine mind games
dripping through the old percolator
Anarcho-Marxist masturbating
on a youthful hard-on,
where's my dogma when I need it?
Pssssst at students
all for no good reason.
Anger so old she has no mother.
Disgusted witness
to outgoing trivia.
How to end my rein of terror?
Sannyas suns radiating
cooling my hot
stretching my tight
hailing my taxi out of here
|
Diet Lust
Eating air
I touch the hunger
Tasty, free, and all for me!
Deeply I descend
A chest warm and soft
Mom's milk cradled on my lips.
Ladders of nymphs
with pointy tits
warm parting thighs
waving.
Sucked by sentiments
a monstrous tongue lashing
long lingering strikes
against the throne of my scrotum.
The King lies dying
God speed the Queen
Eating to feed
a desperate
grumbling deep
within.
My hallow caverns
walls of haunted earth
a breath of ancient air
|
Osho
Meddling with the cord
between mind and autopilot
Free fall
Death defying stunts
aerodynamic dialectics
Delicious time spent
alone with your voice |
Michael Barnett
a superstar
Earning his living
Loving.
Fuck’n lucky
Bastard
eh.
|
Disciple's Dare
Do what you do. . . but do not say
what must I do …and
thy will be done
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MAN-MEAT
her quaking flower
Creation or death?
|
Saturday work
Next Year
these classes will not exist
Praise the Lord
|
Spontaneity
Centered
margin
justified
circumspect
On the step of the mountain shrine
I viewed my lustrous cock
seamen dripping proud
|
| If man were woman |
there'd be a lot less of us.
|
ANGER
This vanquishing angel
expressing contempt
My tongue stinging
sensitive skin
Is anger good?
I feel evil
down deep in my belly
Giving up
feeling down
stumbling sideways
Another
frustrated middle age fool
my sickening reflection.
I was happy
meditating by that pond
but here
I see the sinister
Breath in…free
Breath out…dead
head talking.
"If…"
what stupidity.
"when…"
too late.
Where is the god
in this old fart
reflecting in my rearview? |
Thirsty Thursday
Wedded to Osho
Subhan suffers securely
Wedded to Reiko
insecurely sufficing
responsibility
I and Osho
unconsummated flirtation
James Deep end extending
frail young roots
A box home
concrete
closing
in
I love
but her door
bumps my head
left unattended
I fantasize a new waiter
Please Serve Me
I was making progress
then I remembered
myself
I catch myself smiling
I like teaching
despite
it all
Tough lesson
for poor students
I tell my rainy season joke
soft smiles crack over hard desks
|
more miracle monkeys
Dollar saved
in a dull day spent
worrying about
my fictitious future
Mom sleeping in eternity
waking only to remind me
of things I can't forget.
Pretty preschool teacher
holding my daughter
a kiss good-bye
A message from my pants
"Position for attack"
neglected husband
hazardous waste
sign flashing
in her face
In all the cream coated fantasies
you take the cake
|
Just a Tuesday
Zen
my son's
wide grin
burning
Hot humorless air
Wafting from the head
inhale in
cool again
Illuminating my anger
in all-woman classes
hyperventilating
my seamen
up through my ears
My dick
a door stop
|
I respect you enough
to wanna waddle
your mid-drift.
|
Erased
a poem for you
after
what you said.
|
Injured strangers in my wake.
|
I lift
your skirt
to catch my reflection.
|
If
hands were as free as eyes
I wouldn't need glasses.
|
White skin
asking my touch
Brown eyes
disagreeing.
|
Elbowing my way
I reach the gates of hell.
|
Taking a cruise
on one liners
|
Life
hit single
or fly ball
out.
|
Digging deep
into my trousers
I find what I am looking for. |
Two soft denim clad globes
bubbling over the back
of that chair.
|
Fabric webbed over
shoulder wings
I yearn to grab her
from behind
|
Hair
hues of brown
cascading down translucent cotton.
Wild shag cut above bony shoulders
long fingers clad
in amber skin.
|
How refreshing!
As pleasant up front
as her behind.
|
Strong firm fingers
releasing
a button
hole
|
Sex
plain and simple
life
less
|
her
too diversified a pronoun
for me |
momi
sound of one
tit
squeezing
|
Too many faces
black eyes
waiting
|
A
touch
so soft
even I melt.
|
After five weeks
he comes
falling sound asleep
in class.
|
If food made answers
I'd be informative
If it made art
I'd be beautiful |
handicapped happiness
Bottomless desires
swirling
all motion tainted
uneventful exertion
Mirroring surfaces
bored witless
dust
inches thick
|
end of a week
students sucking air
shoulders aching
time dragging
Being clever drains
I seek vacations in mindless bliss
yet…find . . .this and this and
|
Transfusions
from aluminum cans
Platters of deep-fried
indisgestables
Is there any wonder? |
Children
sure you see
pure
and sweet
damn responsibility
|
Boring friends with my sadness,
I try and hide.
Yet in my aloneness
a greater fear, boredom in my soul.
You say
"Where ever there is life
Enlightenment is underneath."
Show me
|
sometime silent
noisy nonsense
or cold ignoring
|
Days at work
aching
heart murmur
a lily bent by
callousness.
Being kind
if it is language
I fail miserably.
|
A break
brief but full pause
away from you,
those, and their
expectations
|
Holy warrior
waiting
armed to the teeth
|
freaking out
Japanese students
the threat of a test
Pavlovian pranksters paradise
|
New Waves
A wave of tiredness
bumps my side
Yet I dare not fall
asleep
Quintessential flesh and bone
decorates stimulates,
creating erection upon erection,
piled in storage for the duration.
All white natural fibers
soft clean skin
cool water and wild rice
goodliness
Could tonight I begin?
Transforming
everything within my power
to cleanliness
|
Anger
centered in the chest
warm rising tight
tensing head
feet and hands sweat
bowels hot, stomach acidic
vision blurred, sounds disturbing.
Coming out of Anger
mental anguish
headache
breathing shallow
distracted
body temperature in flux
the smell of regret.
Price of admission?
|
Time oriented
Fear of being left behind
Space restricted
Fear of being left out
Spiritual quest
Fear of fear itself
|
Her Sign of Trust
Sharing gesture and trust
the tattoo on her tit
before the open wide eyes
of a hungry child.
White water pouring down over
salty tombs of years
encrusted in these crystal tears.
Glistening madness melts,
molten magic from fountain eyes
a torrent of liquid love
erupting red.
|
Swallowing
I sit poised on a poem
stunned silent
the scent of your eyes
still circling
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Good
Deep cold water
washing me toward the fall
I swim
feeling my control.
What is missing in man
Can be gathered from woman
when currents are clear.
Dipping deep into her lake
I feel hidden hands
holding me
afloat
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