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OBJECTS IN MIRROR Daily Poems from November 2012

Kenneth A O’Shaughnessy


Text & Illustrations copyright © 2012 Kenneth A O’Shaughnessy Bad Bad Boy Publications 501 Agewood Drive Simpsonville, SC 29680 kempisosha@gmail.com All Rights Reserved


This month’s book is dedicated to my Muse. A lot of my poems are at least inspired Not to mention the ones that are directly about, You know, a name that frequents these pages As acrostics mainly - by my favorite person


Table of Contents

Contents one november, two-thousand twelve two november, two-thousand twelve three november, two-thousand twelve four november, two-thousand twelve five november, two-thousand twelve six november, two-thousand twelve eight november, two-thousand twelve nine november, two-thousand twelve eleven november, two-thousand twelve twelve november, two-thousand twelve thirteen november, two-thousand twelve fourteen november, two-thousand twelve fifteen november, two-thousand twelve sixteen november, two-thousand twelve nineteen november, two-thousand twelve twenty november, two-thousand twelve twenty-one november, two-thousand twelve twenty-two november, two-thousand twelve twenty-three november, two-thousand twelve twenty-four november, two-thousand twelve twenty-five november, two-thousand twelve twenty-six november, two-thousand twelve twenty-seven november, two-thousand twelve twenty-eight november, two-thousand twelve twenty-nine november, two-thousand twelve thirty november, two-thousand twelve afterword


one november, two-thousand twelve For all the photos I take, I actually am Of the opinion that memory is better. Remembering makes us present, Giving us a sense of inclusion. Each photo is an object, separate. This makes us voyeurs, not Involved in the action anymore. That being said, I take pictures.


two november, two-thousand twelve I want to lie down In a fried brown rice paddy Under Gen. Tso skies # A couple people went on a picnic No one knew what was Going to happen that day Except me. I took her Left hand (I thought) And slid a ring on it. What I didn't realize is I put it On the wrong hand Forgetting that I was Facing her. She was Only confused for a minute, Realizing that I was Doing the proposal thing


three november, two-thousand twelve Let the waters flow, clear the debris away Open the floodgates, let no blockage stay Until the brook waters once again sound gay It all used to flow smooth when she lived there So it must be restored now with diligent care Everything in its order, each thing in its where


four november, two-thousand twelve After a while one Needs to remember Yesterday may have been Awesome, but it’s over now


five november, two-thousand twelve What is 12 cubic feet of space All the world that I displace Some world enters through my face Though soon it exits in disgrace Each time reminds me of my place


six november, two-thousand twelve Very important citizenship Obligations should be Thought through thoroughly Even if it's hard work # Anastasia Will come again - or you go Clouds part for the Sun


eight november, two-thousand twelve Just to be fully present when one is Always missing another seems to Not be so easy, but never Ever think that getting to See you by yourself is Second choice for me or Anyone else who loves you because Man, are you Awesomesauce! You really are. Do you know that I am in Awe of your abilities, which are Very impressive and broad It is fascinating to talk and Simply to spend time with you


nine november, two-thousand twelve I have an affinity for leftovers And the bottomful not poured Muffins that are gone stale Little cheeses in the drawer Empty ketchup bottles Found lingering in the door Til somebody notices Or there is nothing more Useless unless no one wants to Travel to the store


eleven november, two-thousand twelve Another day with no artistic production No real motivation to write for pleasure You’d think maybe I hadn’t been Able to see my muse much lately # If you’ve noticed my lack of production My muse is no longer mine Instead of white paper seduction Something about blank is fine So instead of sentence construction All I can do is supine Now succumb to writer’s obstruction Yet I know a random line Again will be my muse’s induction


twelve november, two-thousand twelve Dear friend, How are you I hope you're feelin' fine You've been on my mind Thought I'd drop you a line 'Cause I've been kind of blue I'm glad that you're my friend I hope we never end So I just thought I'd send This letter off to you I called you on the phone But there was no one there I hope that you still care Got a moment to spare 'Cause I am so alone I spoke to your machine It sounded kinda mean Like the call was being screened I think you might've known I checked you out online Your family's lookin' good I saw you liked that food That one pic was almost nude Brought a bottle of wine I'm standing on your lawn I see that you're not gone My gun's already drawn I'm pretty sure you'll find


There's a word for you, I can't think what it is Perhaps it's more of a feeling You know when something pulls you to it I don't think the word is "appealing" I just know that whatever it is It sets all my senses reeling You're indefinable I want to call you so many things But the words I find don't have the ring Of the meaning that I feel So I just say There's something just on the tip of my tongue It's so close I could spit it out Or maybe it's down in the pit of my gut I can feel it thrashing about I need to expel whatever it is But it's something I can't live without You're indefinable I want to call you so many things But the words I find don't have the ring Of the meaning that I feel So I just say Nothing.


thirteen november, two-thousand twelve I gotta get a grip Can't keep feelin' like I do Gotta get a grip And I know you feel it too But I gotta get a grip On you Pretty sure I'm goin' mad And I guess I'm kinda glad 'Cause the truth just makes me sad Since you're not mine to be had And so I don't do something too bad I gotta get a grip Can't keep feelin' like I do Gotta get a grip And I know you feel it too But I gotta get a grip On you You know it's always fun To feel like you're spun But I'm the only dizzy one And I can't keep up this run So I'll just put down pick up my gun I gotta get a grip Can't keep feelin' like I do Gotta get a grip And I know you feel it too But I gotta get a grip On you You've got this blue look on your face In the midst of our embrace And you're reaching for your mace So I've got to pick up the pace And strangle off all your breathing space I gotta get a grip Can't keep feelin' like I do Gotta get a grip And I know you feel it too But I gotta get a grip On you


fourteen november, two-thousand twelve Inside of my front pocket Never know what I'll find I'm not even sure If everything there is mine I need to sort it all through So that I will have a clue Because some change is sure due Gotta take inventory Gotta take inventory Gotta take Inside my walking room house There are things in their place I know every one Like the nose on my face But the stuff that's all over Like a scrap paper cover Might just need a leaf blower Gotta take inventory Gotta take inventory Gotta take Inside my head there's a mess It's so full I can't think I guess I'd better Spend some time with a shrink 'Cause there's stuff I put in there That gives even me a scare And so that I won't despair Gotta take inventory Gotta take inventory Gotta take out the trash


fifteen november, two-thousand twelve Now we seek purity of spirit and flesh As we join the Mother of God in her Yea Through which her flesh was filled with Glory Incarnate God her only offspring Verily let it be for us also In this time of taking in only Those things God grows for us Yearning to produce only Christ


sixteen november, two-thousand twelve Oh JimBob had two rights He kept 'em exercised He did what he could Just like he should Because his rights were prized Tried to dance the best he could Since his could meant that he should And he cut a mean groove in the wood 'Cause he had two right feet Oh JimBob had two rights He kept 'em exercised He did what he could Just like he should Because his rights were prized He always swung from starboard His sinister side left out But he hit with his right twice as hard His right fist had double meat Oh JimBob had two rights He kept 'em exercised He did what he could Just like he should Because his rights were prized After the election mess He used his right of redress And let it be known in the press But he went down to defeat Oh JimBob had two rights He kept 'em exercised He did what he could Just like he should Because his rights were prized So JimBob took up his arm He didn't mean anyone harm But still he bought the farm His right to die was complete Oh JimBob had two rights He kept 'em exercised He did what he could Just like he should Because his rights were prized


nineteen november, two-thousand twelve Sometimes it seems the soup just needs to stew Letting the contents cook through and through Until the soup is a cohesive glue Maybe creative juices are like that too Popping in the pot 'til they become something new # Currently considering composing a Lost love's lament for Mountain Dew


twenty november, two-thousand twelve There is something, one thing I don't love about you But when you're with me I can't think what it is It has something to do With something that's missing But your face is perfect With lips and nose and eyes All framed with glossy tresses Your limbs are all intact With holding hands and Circling arms, legs that hold The feet that bring you to me And the rest of you that Ties everything together And rests comfortably Alongside my center In the same way that Your personality Complements mine When you're not with me I remember that the Missing thing that I Hate as much as I Love you is you


twenty-one november, two-thousand twelve Objects in mirror are closer than they appear This is not true Most of what we see in the mirror does not appear at all The guy with the beard who looks kind of weird Is just seen by you What I see I could see without a mirror But like in the rearview mirror it does look small And uglier than I originally feared So this is what's true Objects in mirror are closer when they do not appear # Last things will be first, a la Only by checking the end can Value truly be known. Every Eye should view the omega # Anytime the object SQUIRREL of your affecSQUIRRELtions is Nearby it makes SQUIRREL it hard to pay attenSQUIRRELtion to Your other responsSQUIRRELibilities without pretenSQUIRRELsion And to avoid causSQUIRRELing any dissenSQUIRRELsion


twenty-two november, two-thousand twelve By DMH: A muse is such a fickle thing Not always there when needed You could not always make her sing Although you begged and pleaded. # Although I sometimes beg and plead Not always not making her sing You know what tends to work the best Always is vig'rous tickling


twenty-three november, two-thousand twelve And now commences The best part of Thanksgiving Turkey sandwiches


twenty-four november, two-thousand twelve Standing alone overlooked in plain sight Collared by the one who desires inside Access though difficult to the life and light Reservoired where nearly all are denied Full for those willing to ascend the height


twenty-five november, two-thousand twelve I don’t want to go home There are places still to go I’m even willing to roam Wherever the road may flow But I don’t want to go home I still haven’t been to New York Or the South Florida shore Not to Disneyland or World Just want to go one place more I don’t want to go home There are places still to go I’m even willing to roam Wherever the road may flow But I don’t want to go home I haven’t been to Ryan’s Or the Cracker Barrel store Not Taco Bell or Casa Just want to go one place more I don’t want to go home There are places still to go I’m even willing to roam Wherever the road may flow But I don’t want to go home I haven’t been to the mailbox Or out to the garage door Haven’t been down the hallway Just want to get off this floor There are places still to go I’m even willing to roam Wherever the road may flow But I don’t want to go home


twenty-six november, two-thousand twelve Can't you see? (Can't you see?) Yeah it's trouble There it is (There it is) Seein' double Had my eye exam at eight And they had to dilate Now I don't see real great (Yeah it's trouble) So when I pull out my gun Oh yeah man you better run 'Less you're standing in the sun (Seein' double) Can't you see? (Can't you see?) Yeah it's trouble There it is (There it is) Seein' double Got a pair a them sunshades Blocks the glare from off my blades Now I got eyesight in spades (Yeah it's trouble) But they just popped off my face And now I'm just lost in space So I guess you get some grace (Seein' double) Can't you see? (Can't you see?) Yeah it's trouble There it is (There it is) Seein' double If I catch you later on Then your chances will be gone 'Cause my glasses will be on (Yeah it's trouble) So you best both watch your back 'Cause once my eyesight ain't so whack Then I can tell which one to smack (Seein' double) Can't you see? (Can't you see?) Yeah it's trouble There it is (There it is) Seein' double


twenty-seven november, two-thousand twelve You come over to my house You say you want to play There's tickling and there's petting And it lasts all through the day But still I feel lonely and That's why I have got to say For you it's all about the petting And the rubbing and the snog But I need something more than that Please stop playing with the dog I know that we're together Although we are not alone And you know I love to watch you When you're playing fetch the bone But it's gotten where you even Call me "Puppy" on the phone For you it's all about the petting And the rubbing and the snog But I need something more than that Please stop playing with the dog I watch you wag your tail And it fills me with delight But now you've started curling up On my feet in bed at night And if I touch that tender spot You give me quite a bite For you it's all about the petting And the rubbing and the snog But I need something more than that Please stop playing with the dog


twenty-eight november, two-thousand twelve If I only had an internet I'd search for everything My brain would grow by leaps and bounds And knowledge would be king Oh the high degrees that I would get If just I had an internet If I only had an internet I'd contact everyone Strangers would all become my friends And boy would we have fun Oh the relationships that I would get If just I had an internet If I only had an internet I'd watch a lot of shows Docudramas, TV, cartoons And stuff God only knows Oh the sleep I wouldn't get If just I had an internet If I only had an internet I'd wish that I had none I'd complain because I have no time And nothing can get done Oh the whines that you would get If just I had an internet


twenty-nine november, two-thousand twelve I went there looking for a place To let my demons roam To forge my chains and cut my face And sleep there on the loam Then came a man who offered grace And set my face toward home It's a place I visit more often As an uncertain future looms I found what I was looking for Walking among the tombs I went there looking for the place Where my loved one was laid To lay some flowers and wet my face With tears and there I stayed There came a man who offered grace A resurrection made It's a place I visit more often As an uncertain future looms I found what I was looking for Walking among the tombs I went to take my final place My long nap in the dirt To let the worms come eat my face Since there is no more hurt There came a man who offered grace From death to life convert It's a place I visit more often As an uncertain future looms I found what I was looking for Walking among the tombs


thirty november, two-thousand twelve Sometimes we count backwards It is mostly when we're Very excited for An event that makes us Divinely happy to Endure until that time Sometimes, though, they are things Instead we dread, at least Until they happen and Often turn out OK Lately I count backwards As I look forward to You, and I am afraid Now that I am counting And rarely get to stop


afterword A hearty thanks for reading this book No doubt something here made you go “Huh.” You should come back next month for a look Another set of poems will be here for ya. Kenneth A O’Shaughnessy kempisosha@gmail.com


Objects In Mirror: Daily Poems for November 2012