A.S. Osel

A Waste, A Very Sad Waste

i am never shocked
at people’s reactions
when they find out
i write poetry

they’re always very enthusiastic
about the whole business

i try to keep my vain pursuit
as hush as possible
because i am not proud

with all the time
i’ve spent
writing poems
and sending them
to magazines
i could have become
something real
something better
something something

i could have been re-building homes
in Kenya
in India
in New Orleans
and in my own neighborhood

i could have taught a child to read
or write
or fight against oppression

eradicating homelessness
racism, sexism
or the unjust treatment of the poor
would have been worthy ways
to spend my time

i could have spent my time
finding solutions
to the horrors that face
my fellow human

i could have done this
and that
traveled here
and there
and less
and more
and somthing else

i could have
but i didn’t

and that’s
the tragedy
of
all
this.

---

Soul Tragedy of Errors

for some
the soul-mate
does not exist
and being no
more real
than
the perfect
woman
it is very easy
to walk away

no harder than pulling
your fingers
from fire

in-fact natural

and being that
you can find another
who is not your
soul-mate
with relative ease
the human condition
is relived

but

in absence of a
soul-mate
some find life
to hard
to carry on
and
many times
the end for
these souls is

Shakespearean

and while they
cut off their ears
for the sake of
love

the rest of us
continue to
drink
sleep
fight

and fuck
our way
towards

the end.



A.S. Osel is a fan of good cheap red wine, his own poetry, some of your poetry, and his ivory Buddha. He is also Editor-In-Chief of The CommonLine Project. www.ananda-osel.com/.