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The Poetry of 2012

In 2012 I wrote eight poems. 

In 2012 I wrote 8 poems. As the year dawned, I proclaimed it would be my best so far. However, I've suffered possibly more depression and less positive energy this year, particularly during the terrible times which have wracked the world and my psyche. I'm facing 2013 in a more positive place. I'm still (hopelessly, and forever) single. Just last night I shed tears again, asking the Universe why I have never seemed to gain comradeship with my fellow man, and find a partner. In 2011, I actively searched, and I socialized, but the group in which I eventually found myself was too full of younger folks who possibly used me (and my place) as a haven from their own lives with parents or strict housemates instead of offering me companionship and solace. The last friend I made in our mobile home park passed away two months ago. Two friends from the past also passed into the Universal Consciousness during this year. The carnage which (still) wracks the world upsets me and bothers me greatly. As the Christmas season occurs, I'm more apt to remember that on the 26th it's the 8th anniversary of a tidal wave that wiped out over 3000 people in Thailand. Still I plan to remain optimistic that both humankind and my own life will prosper and I will hopefully write more hopeful poetry next year. Michael F. Nyiri, the Electric Poet 


"Circular Psychosis: Lackluster in Loneliness"
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
03/23/12 5:11 p.m pdt


When will companionship come?
Why does love leave me alone?
What ancient allure must these brittle bones bear?
If affairs of the heart still exist I want some.

How often must questions present?
Is pure past all I'll ever remember?
My "girl in dreams" disappeared and dire straights
Replaced my climbing hopes with descent.

I remain folly's fool with a smile.
Age, wisdom and health hardly matter
If when I ask questions I just talk to myself
My life matters no whit all the while.

The tears dried dire decades ago
Past friends reside six feet below
How often must questions present the dire straights
While cold doubt replaces warm blood flow.

I scream with no meanings again.
Why does love leave me alone?
I'll proclaim I am happy, hale, hearty and how
If affairs of the heart still exist through the pain.

The words drop disgusted, deluded,
At the feet of the foolish in time
What ancient allure could this hole in my heart
Be decided, denuded, alluded?

I walk out of the room railing at nothing in particular,
As the myriad masses attempt to console me,
Then, nodding affirmation, and bravely attempting a smile,
I turn my back again, 
wipe the dry tears from my face,
And face the night,
Knowing at least,
That a new day 

I'll straighten my back
Happy tunes I will hum,
But tell me, Oh Lord
When will companionship come?

Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
03/23/12 5:40 p.m. pdt

Out of time
Out of mind
Overcoming obstacles
Leaving memory behind
Writing the same words
Believing insane words
For the station master 
Forever forgetting fealty
Are the ramifications
Ready for the 
last supper?
And have I had my fill of
Did enlightened souls
search for sanity
while the cities burned 
and the butter churned
and the words
whirled down the 
drain of disgusting drivel
I'm not done yet
I've only begun to fight
flatulent foolishness forever
The clock stopped 
And I took a minute to think about
what I'd been doing.
Wait a minute
Those sixty seconds of serenity
Slay dragons of dialogue
with the denizens
of dilapidation


"Around and Around Again"
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
03/23/12 5:48 p.m. pdt


Life was never simple, and simple pleasures never defined my life
Making friends was easy, but easy friendships never really mattered.
Driving fast on the highway of circumstance
Allowing dirty windows to cloud reason,
And without a map to any destination
Used to bely bragging rights to oblivion.

Now, as age creaks it's wrinkled head, 
smiling, cackling, bellowing in glee,
The reasons pale beside the journey
Reason was never simply pleasurable
Pleasure never reasoned with lucid lagresse.

Existence matters, as long as matter exists.
Words still get in the way of the meanings,
And meaningless mutterings hardly matter at all.
Life was never a simple journey,
The roadsigns got muddy and fell off their signposts
I'm still driving fast
And I'm still embellishing the journey,
Even as the road gets longer 
and more perilous
And the roadmap flys out the window of willing wonder

Turn right at righteousness
Or perhaps left in libidinous licentiousness
Or maybe even stop for a moment 
And admire the circumstances 
which have put me here again

And again.

"Assessment Again"
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
May 13th, 2012, 1:18 p.m. pdt (begin)
May 14th, 2012, 6:42 a.m. pdt (conclude)

The longer we inhabit our world
The more hours, days, years clocked into our personal odometer
The shorter our attention span
The leaner our understanding
The more we make attempts to catch up
The horizon just keeps receding in the distance

Memories so ancient
Purpose so isolated
Advice and lessons remorph into questions and mistakes
As years creep unheeded into calendar existence
Wisdom shines her lamp on the balding head of melancholy
And laughs because we're forgetting what advice wisdom brings
and only ask questions in return

We don't want to make any more stupid mistakes
Life wasn't going to be easy, we knew that
But at least something was supposed to get easier,
Wasn't it?

Moreso the questions disappear yet remain,
like an overused metaphor 
Elegaic diatribes, intelligent assessments
Simply txt on the touchscreen of life
I wish I could remember when I became disposable
Culturally inadequate
Unable to communicate 
Choked to perfection
by a world I didn't create
and hardly understood

Did the inhabitants change?
Or just multiply till they ceased to make sense?
Did memory stay intact?
Or did it slightly slip into shallower waters
now evaporating

No wonder wisdom maintains that at some point
It's easier to close one's eyes and accept the inevitable
I've been pondering the end since the beginning
Typing the same thoughts into eternity
And reading those same thoughts 
written by the scribes of lost memories past
penned as they too
approached the assessments of purposeless ponderings

The cycle certainly ceases in serentity
And on the other side of the door we'll perceive our perfection
As I will terminally write, and as those before me wrote so long ago
When their infinities stretched father than the horizon
and before the sun sank forever into metaphor's ocean




"A Dark Night is Slowly Rising"
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
7/20/12 6:24am pdt

Awaking to the morning 
After a night of clear, bright dreams
We never know what to expect anymore
As Father Sun rises around the world

Terrible news instantaneously presented
As soon as we tap our touchscreens alight
Connected calamity indented
Terror happens right here in plain sight

Can a day ever pass without strife?
Can a night soothe in safe slumber again?
Or did days and nights always bear burdens
Of bad news, bad taste, evil sin?

Something is dreadfully wrong
Something so powerfullly strong
A strong wind is blowing
And no one is knowing
The terror is lasting how long

Controls and restraints not the answer
The righteous will pray to the sky
But the evil ingrained in our nature
Causes us to ask the eternal why

I shudder for humanity again
To the Universal Consciousness I pray
The day's just beginning for this simple soul
But it's a mystery and common sense may stray

If we awake, we are safe so it seems,
We breathe, perhaps a sigh, 
As we cry, and others die
Terror lurks in both shadows and light
And it hurts as it screams, 
As calamity sets in it's sight

The evil in our nature turns the common 
The quiet kids and the bullied
The intelligent and the sullied
Has it always been like this?
Perhaps it has.
Instant news cycles compound 
terror's message,
And that message is loud and clear.
What do we as a society do here?

And are we a society, 
Or a bunch of conflicted souls without direction
Or somebody to listen to our problems?

Evil begins as misdirection, misapprehension
Mistakes of mammoth proportions
And grief stricken collateral residue

Once the trigger is pulled
Once the mind sheds all common sense
Once the other voices start to babble
All is lost for those involved
(And oftentimes the victims are innocent)

The smoke clears
As it always does
And we open the door and begin the day
And as always for humanity I pray

"Softening the Edges"
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
8:15p.m. pdt August 15, 2012


on edge again

powerful prickly

never know why
and it hurts

precise painful perilous brittle cutting seething
agony searing the temples
pricking purveyors of the impossible 
ripping serenity from the hinges of my sanity

why do I feel this way why
what is wrong today
it's hot
it's stifling

but I have an air conditioned soul, don't I

I'm the electric poet aren't I
rescuing wisps of emotion from the abyss
no.....don't talk to me 
don't bother me
my soul SCREAMS...
get out of my way
damn it hurts so much

but then,

too slowly to be sudden
a cloud, and then another 
appear on the horizon of possibility
questions fade with father Sol
as He slowly disappears
beneath the line of trees rimming my painful brain

and I relax

awestruck with the passing of circumstance
aware and awake and alive again

the questions become answers



for a moment

I don't care about past prickly painful power
I only care about impending solace
as the crescent of the baby moon appears
and Mother Earth begins her rest for the night
under a blanket of pink pulcrhitude

goodnight my demons

hopefully I shall not meet you on the morrow
and the pink will soothe sensing sure 
and serenity will prevail again
as she is 
as she has
during my yesterdays

and tonight

in the pink


"Deadly Family Matters"
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
10/26/12 7:45 a.m. pdt

Human life so precious
Every person special and sublime
Whether by love or accident,
families grow.

Hopefully love 
replaces accidental circumstance
in time
both love and the family grow fuller
If not always together,
at least together in spirit and celebration.
Anger, allegiance, arduous times
Togetherness, happy times and smiles

People matter 
Family matters
The matters of some families give us pause
We are shocked and saddened
surely sickened by sanquine reports
of shootings and slicings and shallow graves

A grave report of 
the state of humanity
when family matters
don't seem to matter to some
And the heinous harrowing 
hollow horrible misgivings
of seemingly normal people
cause pain to all
when they turn on their families
or on the families of others

We are all alone
And yet we are all family
For those who anger too quickly
For those in so much pain
the only solution seems to 
reign pain on others;
For those about to claim 
that nothing really matters
please take pause 
before taking matters into 
your shaking hands.

Family matters
to me
to you
to all

(a poem for all of humankind a week before (yet another) reported apocalypse)

 Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri

12/12/12 6:30am pst


if the world were to end i sure wouldn't
and neither would you or would you
you may believe in rapture, enlightenment or you didn't
you may think that nothing you hear is really true

you may have your questions and yearnings
you may have regrets and recourse
but as you have lived you've been learning
no cosmic occurrence bends personal force

the universe is bigger than the both of us
we have faith cause we weren't meant to understand
we while away our hours with depression or bliss
we either shake our fist or extend a waiting hand

the earth is just a ball of geology
think of it as home away from home
it'll stick around, it will be us who depart
but the universal mindset maintains cosmic energy to roam

If this spinning orb were to stop spinning
If the gravity of this situation were to suddenly disappear
If all of humanity fell off of the earth
what a really strange end to such a wonderful year
i began proclaiming this year to be the best one
still i'm in debt but it's shrinking 
i'm getting older but who isn't?
i'm grateful and alive i'm thinking

i'm celebrating both the past and all possible futures
the solstice always brings warmth through the cold
my hand is forever extended to humanity
as the endless story is never completely told

the mayans stopped engraving their 
calendar i'm thinking
simply cause they ran out of stone
a solstice is a good place
they were winking
as they put away their tools and went home

i'm home here on my planet this morning
and who knows i may be buried some time tonight
as the planets align, and we count nonexistent time
we are universally together in our seeming plight

and as the sun sets wherever

i bid you goodnight

(the new sun will rise tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, and if the universe is willing so will i
and so will we all, except of course those of us who won't)



NEXT (2013)


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