Bill Friday

fictionary… 8 megapixel artist… bloody awful poet

“Two for Moonday”

Two poems, read at the Moonday poetry reading, held at The Little Theater in Los Angeles on Sunday, April 20th, 2014.

They are…

 

“Clean” (formerly titled “Come Flooding Back”), and “Feet for the Callouses”

 

 

“Clean”

 

My hands smell

like dispensered soap

from the bathroom

inside Starbucks

 

Clean

like the hospital room

where my son died

all those years ago.

 

Copyright © 2014 Bill Friday

 

Followed by…

 

“Feet for the Callouses”

 

To trade this now

for another

because parts of now

make me sad

to severe an arm

for the birthmark or

feet for the callouses

 

And deny my senses

for a life of fewer lessons

curse my eyes

for the glasses

or my mouth

for the soap

that washed it out

 

To not have held

the entirety of love

against my chest then

carried it on feet

that have withstood

the weight of imperfection

but continued forward

 

And trade the scars

that gave me beauty

in the infinite tomorrow

for an empty past

of losses unremembered

is a cowardice

for fools.

 

Copyright © 2014 Bill Friday

3 a.m. at Cedars

hospital basement

Robots on the basement floor

at Cedars

stopping in their tracks

like cars

or a Roomba for the cats

three a.m. basement maze

a graveyard

the halls down which

Zombies of mercy shuffle

 

Copyright © 2014 Bill Friday

Three Heartbeats in Eternity

three heartbeats x2

 

 

 

 

 

 

I spoke to a friend today,

much longer than I had the right to,

and learned that it was okay to just be.

I whined like a goddamned infant child,

and found a place to lay my head.

And for what seemed like

three heartbeats in eternity,

I saw things as they really were.

 

I spoke to a friend today,

not as long as I would have liked to,

but guilt held onto me.

I felt like a thief,

shoving goodness into pockets full of shit.

I felt worse, then better by the end.

And for what seemed like

three heartbeats in eternity,

I didn’t want to die.

 

And I kissed my fingers toward heaven.

 

© 2014 Bill Friday

The Monster

 

 

 

 

 

I sit to write

with coffee

at my side

and in my blood

and sleep

the monster of

my waking dreams

whispers

warm upon my neck.

 

© 2014 Bill Friday

Disco Remix

Under the Boardwalk - Tom Tom Club

Under the Boardwalk – Tom Tom Club 1982

 

I

got

nothing

 

fuck this

disco remix

of Under the Boardwalk

like Studio fucking 54

 

with coffee

 

there are some days

when the words

flow like butter

over popcorn

 

this

ain’t

one

 

 

 

Copyright © 2014 Bill Friday

One of These Things

photo credit uvalaw.typepad.com

photo credit uvalaw.typepad.com

Johnny Cash covers

will never be better than

covers sung by Johnny Cash.

 

A home run watched

from the fifth deck at Dodger Stadium

will always be better than

listening to Charley Steiner

call a home run

on my car radio

no offense Charley

you’re not Vin Scully.

 

Sex without love

makes you common

love without sex

makes you a fool

sex and love together

makes you a porn star.

 

 

 

Copyright © 2014 Bill Friday

Come Flooding Back

photo credit "We Were Strangers" c 2012 Redboy

photo credit “We Were Strangers” c 2012 Redboy

My hands smell

like dispensered soap

from the bathroom

inside Starbucks

 

clean

like the hospital room

where my son died

all those years ago.

 

 

 

Copyright © 2014 Bill Friday

Lucky Seat

"Lucky Seat"  Copyright © 2014 Bill Friday

“Lucky Seat”
Copyright © 2014 Bill Friday

 

I thought about moving from this seat

and from the glare of the afternoon sun

as it closed my eyes in a squint

against my reflection

in the laptop screen

 

I thought about moving from this seat

and from the sting of the setting sun

as it burned itself three layers deep

into the skin

of my red right arm

 

I thought about moving from this seat

and from the warmth of all good things

that had not felt this right

for so long

to have its way with me

 

But I have written six poems in this seat

over the last two days

and I will be damned

if I’m going to do anything

to fuck this up today.

 

 

Copyright © 2014 Bill Friday

I Gave Up Writing Poetry

"Free Poetry" © 2014 Bill Friday

“Free Poetry” © 2014 Bill Friday

I gave up writing poetry

for the last time yesterday

right before I got talked back into it

by smiles

by circumstance

by words

oh, those damn persuasive words

and the way people look at you

when they think you

can do something they cannot.

 

© 2014 Bill Friday

Fifty Shades of Bullshit

bullshit x

Fifty shades of bullshit got your panties in a bunch

fiction in the place of real friction

of wet thighs

and gravel sighs

and a man’s rough hands where you settle for the touch of your own

 

Waste of time between life’s stages

replaced by dog-eared pages where fantasy isn’t real

wax fruit in place of a meal

hot wax on skin like in some video with music and a grainy feel

story never meant to last like you and I once did

 

I have read your kind before

a spider web in place of a door

and spilt perfume to cover the decay of what once passed for your tender soul

cracked and old and dry and dying

and lied to by so many, then so few

now just by you

 

Last look back at a life unfinished

at bodies and minds left diminished

by time, by the past, by struggle against what once convinced us

that we were our last and only

never get lonely partners for life

till I saw light

 

Fifty shades of bullshit got your panties in a bunch

trying to remember what didn’t need reading

pages were never meant for feeling what once was between us

heat in the place of a cold feel, of pulp in the space where you melt cold steel

of my rough hands as they touched what was

my own

 

© 2014 Bill Friday

This work first appeared in the anthology “…and it happened under cover”,  © 2014 Nightwing Publications.  To purchase this book, please visit their website or Amazon.com.

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fictionary... 8 megapixel artist... bloody awful poet

fictionary... 8 megapixel artist... bloody awful poet

Tanya Chernov

Author of A Real Emotional Girl (Skyhorse, 2012)

The Whimsy Art of TJ Lubrano

An Artist that Enchants the World with Her Illustrations.

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