A Pointless Question

Dec. 31, 2012

A Pointless Question

How did we get here?

My room,
     a tiny closet of a space,
Drowns in letters and books,
     Wrinkled shirts,
          Passed down through time and thrift stores,
     Crinkled photographs
          Pulled out of shoe boxes,
     Flecks of dirt and dust
          that clung to my shoes
               and now rest in the corners by my door.
My house is full of strangers,
     A Mexican poet
          with his words read in Italy,
     A young Chilean ghost
          whispering from the corner room,
     An aging woman
           reading the Bible
               and nothing else,
And the house sags and cracks,
     Sunk into the earth
          long before we got here.

How did we get here?

Does the tree ask how it was planted,
     The stone how it was formed,
          The river from whence it flows?

What a human thing,
     to wonder.

Haiku #18: My View After Work

Dec. 30, 2012

Haiku #18: My View After Work

Grinning co-workers
Leaning 'gainst the local bar,
Storybook creatures.

Haiku #17: Drawing Confidence

Dec. 29, 2012

Haiku #17: Drawing Confidence

All the confidence
That drawing a straight line gives!
Hand-drawn ecstasy!

Haiku #16: Goodbye Georgia Christmas

Dec. 28, 2012

Haiku #16: Goodbye Georgia Chistmas

Misty Christmas days
Kiss me goodbye, as I fly
Away from Georgia.

No Small Worlds

Dec. 27, 2012

No Small Worlds

I don't believe
     in a small world.
I say
     there is no such thing.

You know,
     A wall is a human child,
          raised up by our forefathers
               as they learned to stack their vertebrae.
The Earth was born without them,
     open,
          as naked as you and I
               in our first gasping breaths,
And no matter what Man props up on this Earth,
     She rolls on
          and on
               and on,
     Long after all the walls have gone to dust.

I strive to live like the world,
     Boundless.

Haiku #15: Haiku for Henry Lee, A Homeless Veteran

Dec. 26, 2012

Haiku #15: Haiku for Henry Lee, A Homeless Veteran

Oh that I could turn
All the trains to cabin homes,
warm and free for all!

Christmas Break in Georgia

Dec. 25, 2012

Christmas Break in Georgia

Went down to Georgia,
     wrapped in Christmas trappings
          and steel
          and fiberglass wings.
Slipped into Atlanta,
     the sighing city,
          a rainy day in the wet South,
and I rode down the long highway,
     I Eighty Five,
tasting the pines
     along the side of the road.

Honeysuckle,
     violet-green needles
          caught in the sunset.

I want to paint this picture of my home
     to share with you,
     to share with you.
See the bark of my forest kingdom,
     Hear the echoing strings
          plucked from over the river,
     Taste the warm,
          Wet earth in your nostrils.
Peel off your coats.
Come run
     and get lost
          in our wood.

Haiku #14: Haiku on the Sensation of Writing

Dec. 24, 2012

Haiku #14: Haiku on the Sensation of Writing

Pen scratching calms me,
Soothes my spirit like cold breaths,
Sharp and refreshing.

Poem for Lady Chelsea Mae

Dec. 23, 2012

Poem for Lady Chelsea Mae

Let me take you to my friend's house,
     Lady Chelsea Mae.
The quaint home,
     Addressed four twenty on the avenue,
A pale thing with flavors of green
     And vanilla,
Broad porches,
     And the Lady smiles behind her hand crafted curtains.

The door whisks open
     And you are entranced,
Rippling patterns of carpets
     and corks,
          beads,
               jewels,
                    and sophistication.
The walls hold London,
     Paris,
I once went to Amsterdam
     when I got lost in her walls.
The foyer,
     the lounge,
          Her small but stately greenhouse!
Picture the boudoir
     of that queen,
          that princess you only know from your mind,
Swimming in the scents
     of Bedouin tribes,
          the Nile,
               and all the seas of the Romanovs.

The Lady bustles,
     ever busy,
          busy,
               busy,
Turning house to home,
     with tints of purple roses
          and electric stars.

Haiku #13: I wish...

Dec. 22, 2012

Haiku #13: I wish...

To walk with Buddha,
Listening to the river
And his thoughts on trees.

Drink on the Airplane

Dec. 21, 2012

Drink on the Airplane

We're at forty thousand feet!
Who wants a
SHOT
SHOT
SHOT SHOT SHOT
SHOT?

Sprawled by the window seat,
     a Kansas belle by my side,
And two drink vouchers
     from a friendly Air Tran bar man
          tucked in my palm.

Hi there,
     Miss Attendant,
          Whaddya have?
Bourbon?
     That's fine.
A shot of rum?
     That's dandy!
No tequila?
     Shit.
Well,
     let's toss back this booze
          and pick up the pace!
It's a drinking race,
     the two of us against
          the two hour flight,
Rinsing our brain in golden liquors,
Two of the Bacchanae
     who found each other
          aboard flight twelve
               and made a night of it.

Smoker's Remorse

Dec. 20, 2012

Smoker's Remorse

 I'm trying to quit tobacco, folks,
     And it's a bitch.
 One cigarette
     Demands another.
 All I can do
     Is chant to myself:

Rotting gums
     And soiled teeth,
Blackened lungs
     And death.

Catch me smoking and scold me,
     'Cuz I definitely know better.

Haiku #12: My First Northern Snowfall

Dec. 19, 2012

Haiku #12: My First Northern Snowfall

Snowflakes fly wildly!
Yankees whine, complain of ice,
Yet I freeze happy!

This is California

Dec. 18, 2012

This is California

This
     is California.

Doors open on the left
     At California.

Doors open on the left,
     To the smell of crushed cornmeal,
          Batter deep frying at dawn,
     At California.

Doors open on the left,
     With the sounds of street vendors
          Shoving their carts,
               Inches at a time,
Ancient Mayan men selling candy colored wheels,
     Women the color of the midday desert
          Gifting coffee to tired young boys in the morning,
     At California.

 Doors open on the left,
     To a crowded labyrinth of homes,
     To young lives out of sorts,
     To symbols of fear in scrawled spray paint,
     To laughter united over language,
     To children,
     To mothers,
     To fathers,
     To people,
     At California.

 Kedzie
     Is next.

 Doors open on the left
     At Kedzie.

Waiting on the Snow

Dec. 17, 2012

Waiting on the Snow

Leaning against the window,
     I press my face against the glass
          And stare at the rain,
     Drip dribbling down the aluminum slats
          To the sidewalk.

 Across the alley
     In the next house over,
 A little boy from Mexico
     Puts his nose to the window pane.

We give each other a sympathetic wave,
     Then sigh,
          Waiting on the snow.

Anxiety

Dec. 16, 2012

Anxiety

It starts all too subtly,
     A small hitch-hitch in my breath,
And suddenly it's there,
The ancient ghoul,
     Clinging invisibly 'cross my chest,
          Digging,
          Digging,
          Digging fingers deep into my lungs,
               Forcing their air into retreat.
The back tenses.
Words stu-stutter,
Loose on my tight lips.
Jaw snaps shut.
I,
     Can't breathe,
          Just,
               Choked gasps.
Can't you tell on sight?
The beast's on me always,
     Riding me like a steed,
          Even needling me now
               Over that last erotic line.

What he doesn't know?
I'm onto him!
I know he bares his claws
     At Change,
          At Lady Fortune.
He has a fear of Success,
     Of Happiness.
See,
     He seizes me
          'Cuz he's afraid.
So I pat his head
     And carry him along,
          All the while he's screaming,
'Til at last
     The worst is over,
The new beginning through.
At that he hops down off my back,
     Returning only when he needs to hold my hand.

It's Not the End of the World, My Friends

Dec. 15, 2012

It's Not the End of the World, My Friends

It's not the end of the world, my friends,
C'est pas la fin du monde.
The scissors won't cut,
     Or the smart phone's too slow,
It's not the end of the world.
The pavement is cracked,
     The gate is loose on its hinges,
The roof is aslant,
     The bath tub is spilling,
It's not the end of the world.

It's not the end of the world, my friends,
C'est pas la fin du monde.
The skies have gone red,
     The moon is in shadow,
It's not the end of the world.
The cigarette smoke is blinding,
     And ashes litter the roads.
The Earth has grown old
     Her gears are a'grinding,
It's not the end of the world.

It's not the end of the world, my friends,
C'est pas la fin du monde.
His hair is too big,
     Her clothing is wild!
It's not the end of the world.
The dead walk among us,
     The night creatures howl!
That boy,
     Or that girl,
          Or that thing gives a scowl!
The music's too loud,
     Drugs set the room spinning,
In world politics
     All the losers are winning!
The air is polluted,
     The stars fade from sight,
All experts agree
     On our planetary plight,
But it's not the end of the world, my friends,
It's not the end of the world.

But the world may end tomorrow,
     So let's be alive tonight!

Papilio Societas

Dec. 14, 2012

Papilio Societas

I'm proud to call myself
Papilio Societas,
The Social Butterfly!
I do not care for
     Petals,
          Buds,
               Nor stems,
No!
What I treasure most
     Is the nectar of human spirit,
A warm drink that sets fire to my wings
     And sends me soaring!

I'm never still,
     Flitting from flower to flower
          Drinking in their every word,
     Their every breath,
Their every smile!
I long to listen in
     As people bear their hearts,
Love to nestle on your shoulder,
     Keep you company with shared thoughts,
          Or dance the night away together!

A foolish creature?
     Sure,
          But true,
And should you need a friend,
I'll alight upon your cheek,
     Fill you up with kisses,
          Fly beside you
               'Til you can spread your wings
                    And find your way.

Two Ghosts Making Love

Dec. 13, 2012

Two Ghosts Making Love

The other night on the train,
     Wednesday night, I think it was,
I walked in on two ghosts
     Making love on the rails.

At first,
     I thought the car was mine,
          Vacant save for the wind
                Leaking in beneath the doors,
But,
     As the empty car rolled on,
The wind turned into moans!
Stray papers suddenly leapt up
     In exquisite patterns,
Whirling sensually through the air!
Phantom palm prints
     Pressed against the windows,
My cheek was brushed
     By a warm breath,
My leg was squeezed
     In someone's fit of ecstasy!

I clutched my bag in fear,
     But all the laughs of lovers past
Quickly picked me up
     And set me dancing
          (All out of my control!)
'Til I found myself
     Wrapped in unseen passions!
My face was caressed,
     My forehead kissed,
Then,
     At the hissing of the Quincy stop,
The doors slid open,
     And I was dropped into my seat
          While passengers shuffled on
               In fits and coughs.

Recovering,
     My hat in hand,
          My book bag safely on my lap,
I glanced at the two empty seats on either side of me.
On each was carved
     A teenage initial,
          Wrapped in hearts and smiles,
     The letters old as dirt,
          The ink still fresh.

Courtyards on Jupiter

Dec. 12, 2012

Courtyards on Jupiter

In my days at school,
     I spent a semester on Jupiter,
          'Cuz I heard studying abroad
               Looks good on a résumé.

I studied the stars,
     The finer arts of gas and light,
The truths of single molecules
     Colliding,
          Splitting,
               Dissolving in the mad winds.

I met a few girls.
I write them,
     Time to time,
          But they never write back.

You see,
     On Jupiter,
They've abandoned writing,
Letters,
Alphabets,
Sciences,
Mathematics,
Facts
     And figures,
Arts
     And physics,
Statistics,
Law
     And government.

Their universities are simple,
No study halls
     Or libraries,
Just endless courtyards,
     Floating in the atmosphere,
Dissolving in the dust
     To reform again,
Now embedded near the planet's core,
     Now hovering atop the storms,
          A breath away from space.

Their motto:
     Veritas est Vita.
They've done away with knowledge,
     Replaced it with the simple act of being,
Living to be torn and reborn
     In the planetary maelstrom,
 Loving every moment
     Of their volatile lives.

The Best Conversations

Dec. 11, 2012

The Best Conversations

The best conversations
     Are had between sheets.
Lost beneath layers,
     Legs tangled together,
          Knees to thighs to intertwining toes,
Our bodies might as well be vapor,
     Melding skin and breath,
          An erotic heat,
               A mattress haze.
Words pour out like water,
     Uninhibited vocabularies expand,
          Shakespearean at their peak,
               Then downright dirty
As we dive
Dive
Dive!
Losing ourselves
     In nothing but ourselves,
Until we rise,
     For oxygen
          And the shimmering sound
               Of lover's speech.

Haiku #11: Glue Stick

Dec. 10, 2012

Haiku #11: Glue Stick

Purple licked fingers,
Tacky to touch, gooey proof
Of someone's hard work.

Haiku #10: Clock

Dec. 9, 2012

Haiku #10: Clock

Dead hands frozen still,
Locked somewhere 'twixt lunch and dusk,
A moment's mem'ry.

Layers

Dec. 8, 2012

Layers

There's something to be said

     For this Yankee winter cold.

Well,

     Many things.

The thrill it adds to your breath,

The freezing shock up your legs

     Having gone two steps too far

          Into a deceptively solid snow bank.

But the something I refer to,

     The one I had in mind:

Layers.

Let me walk you through

     My morning pattern.

Rolling out of bed,

Scampering bowlegged into

     The shower,

In nothing but my slippers

     And my silly man-bits!

From there,

     Pulling on paper thin shorts,

Wrapping my legs

     In fifty shades of denim,

Wriggling into a scrap of colored cotton

     That kisses up against my skin,

          Give the gaps between my buttons

               Some flare!

Ideally, then,

     The button down,

          My indoor defense,

     The sacred robes

          Of office work.

Next,

     I buckle on my final armor,

          My plate mail Land's End coat,

     Enchanted by the wizards

          Of Velcro

               And Insulation!

Now I'm a warm and sweating bulwark,

     But I've still armor yet!

Thick knit mittens,

Leather boots

     Laced three inches past my ankles,

Scraps of scarves left over from last year,

     Tucked around my collarbone,

          Hiding my throat from the howling wind,

Skull cap saved for centuries

      By sages long gone blind,

And finally,

      The Great Hood,

          Savior of Ears,

               Blocker of Periphery.

 So there I am,

     A cloth covered paladin,

Armored against the wind and sleet and snow,

     Locked in tight by zippers, buttons, straps,

Layered up against the world.

Explains to me a lot about this city living.

Quick walks to outrun the cold,

Eyes downcast for fear of wind,

Smiles hidden in pain from chapped lips,

People shielded from the winter,

     And shielded from each other.

But what a fun game,

     When we catch some smiling eyes

          And get to undress each other!

Laughing at the mountains we don for cover,

     Sighing as we try each other on!

Sunshine Ponders the Origins of the Universe

Dec. 7, 2012

Sunshine Ponders the Origins of the Universe

Was the Big Bang in love
     With what was to come?

It's said
     We don't keep on with something
           If we aren't finding some pleasure in it all.
Is that the case for Big Bang Bessie?
Did she eagerly burst
     To go on and on forever,
          An endless changing pleasure?
Or did she know
     What was to happen?
Did she begin us all
      In a fit of love and faith,
           Trusting in the galaxies to come?

These are the things I ask myself,
      Smoking in the backyard.

Here's What I'm Lookin' For

Dec. 6, 2013

Here's What I'm Lookin' For

It's important to know
      What we're lookin' for.

I'm lookin' for someone
      To love for a while,
To smile,
      To play like children again,
            Laughing at every screwball
                  The world throws at us,
            Especially ourselves.

 I'm lookin' for a pair of lips
      That don't stop kissin',
Kisses you miss,
      Make me live every day
            Second to second,
                  Every one a year.

I'm lookin' for eyes
       That laugh,
Spy out paths through the dark
       That I'd never thought to tread,
Throw open the windows to the world
       And go diving in.

I'm lookin' for someone
       To get lost with,
       To get overwhelmed with,
       To crash madly in love with,
       To step back,
            Stand still,
                 And watch the madness unfold
                      In all its majesty.
                 Someone to hold her hand
            As we lose track of the days
       To whenever,
            Whenever,
                 Whenever the Fates say,
                      "Let go."

Sharing a Smoke with Someone New

Dec. 5, 2012

Sharing a Smoke with Someone New

Hello.
     Hello!
Cigarette?
     Don't smoke.
That's smart, they'll kill ya.
     You would know best.
Not me. My lungs, my heart, my blood!
     Your poor body!
Not even that!
     Not even that?
My self, decades from now,
Howling back at me.
     You hear?
I hear.
     Every day?
Every day.
     I'll take one, then.
 Oh?
     I'd like to hear the future.
With me?
     With you.
     No one should listen to those echoes alone.
Not alone.
     (Inhale)
You hear?
     I hear.
Make you want to quit?
     Make you want to quit?
A bit, but...
     A bit, but?
 Listen.
...
Hear them harmonizing?
     ...Not yet.
Not yet?
     We'll give it time.
We'll give it time.

Cold Day in the Park

Dec. 4, 2012

Cold Day in the Park

Cold hands
     Struggle against numbness
          As I tr-tr-try
To scratch out some words
      In Douglass Park.
Curse the cold!
I would freeze to death
      To keep breathing
           These Illinois sunsets!

I retreat behind my dirty window
      As the sunlight fades,
Tr-tr-trying
      To drink it all in
            Before the night
                 Smothers the view.

The Archer in December

Dec. 3, 2012

The Archer in December

Is it any wonder
     December is the month
          For the archer?
We bury ourselves on our roosts,
     Our lovers sleeping at our sides
While we peer into the wilderness,
      Winter lying thick around us.

I like to aim into the wild,
     Looking as deep as I can,
          Shooting at the Spring,
               Long in coming.

To My Friends, Somewhere in Time

Dec. 2, 2012

To My Friends, Somewhere in Time

You're on the way,
     The way we all go,
On that smelly shuttle bus through time,
     I said it,
          Through Time!
You've twiddled your thumbs,
      Paged through the Facebook plenty of times,
Played the game of
     Wuh
     Wuh
     Waiting out to the last move,
But now you're facing Change,
     Monstrous Change!!!
That apish beast,
      Come to gobble you up,
           Swallow you with
                Confusion and Fear.
Inevitable.

 But don't cry,
     Little baby,
          Don't cry.
We've all been eaten
     We've all been spat out
          Blind and naked all over again.
Trust me,
     I'm still sticky from the last time.
But I'll be here
     To catch you darling,
I'll be here to catch you.

Haiku #9: Cane

Dec. 1, 2012

Haiku #9: Cane

See the proud old man,
Laughing at the centuries
He knows he'll never see.

Haiku #8: Towering

Nov. 30, 2012

Haiku #8: Towering

Monumental twelve!
Towering over the boys,
Yearns to be thirteen.

Haiku #7: Pivotal

Nov. 29, 2012

Haiku #7: Pivotal

Standing by the door,
Shivering at the cool breeze
Outside. Goodbye, love.

A Woman in Words

Nov. 28, 2012

A Woman in Words

How do you capture
     A woman in words?

How do you capture
     Fleeting beauty,
Like a doe framed by the forest,
      Frozen in serenity,
            Nature itself
                 Falling still in her presence,
 A brief moment
      With a creature of poise and grace,
'Til the wood swallows her up again.

Oh that my words were music,
     A tune to catch in your head,
I would make you remember her always.

How and Why I Read

Nov. 27, 2012

How and Why I Read

I burn through books
     Like Sherman burned the South,
          The bastard,
An all consuming blaze
     That sucks up words
           Like oxygen to fuel the flame.

 Kids,
      Take a hint,
Read everything you can get
      Your grubby mitts on,
'Cuz once it's in your head
       It's yours,
            And no one can take it away.

I Say Shit

Nov. 26, 2012

I Say Shit

I know some people
     Who know some people,
Bet you know these people, too.

Say,
     Swearing shows a
          Miniscule vocabulary,
In that lecturing tone of voice.

Shit,
     Filth,
          Rubbish,
               Slime,
Foul fool who pains my vision!

 Fragment of diseased flesh,
     Pus-ridden cur
          With rancid breath,
A.k.a.
     You piece of shit.

Astronomical,
     Stunning in its form
          And physiology,
 Monument of life,
     Testament of human achievement!
Ala,
     This shit is bananas,

And let's not forget that solemn oath:
Away with all this triviality!
I am Man,
     As good as thou art,
          And I shall not be trod upon!
Vis-a-vis,
      Fuck this shit.

I say shit
     To get your attention,
To sum up
      All at once
           The torrents of thought
                 And exclamation
Bursting
     From my mind,
But my flourishing details,
      My
           rich vocabulary,
I save for those
     Who kindly ask,
"What's up?"

Hold Tight, My Brother

Nov. 25, 2012

Hold Tight, My Brother

Hold tight,
Hold tight, my Brother!
Armageddon's come,
     The signs and omens
          Fly about like demons!
The hellfire rakes our flesh,
     The Earth splits beneath our feet,
          The seas boil over!
But I'll never let you go,
     My Brother,
I'll never let you go.

 The hordes of Circumstance
      Are in our halls,
The hounds of Chance
     Snap behind our doors,
And old man Death
     Looks on through yonder window,
          Eyeing us with glee.
Our allies have abandoned us,
     Our homes engulfed in flame,
The countryside is overrun
     With the howls of tortured souls,
          Begging us to join their ranks.

But hold tight,
Hold tight, my Brother!
We'll face the beasts together,
     I your shield
          And you my spear!
We'll hurl them back to the Abyss,
     Throw them from our sight!
Arm in arm
     We'll catch them 'neath
           Our boots of steel,
               And grind them back to dust!
Hold tight,
Hold tight, my Brother,
 And I will never let you go,
     Oh no,
I'll never let you go!

Criminal of Love

Nov. 24, 2012

Criminal of Love

I'm waiting for you,
     Next one in life.
I'm expecting any day
     To head outside
          On my way to work
               And get caught by your eye,
          Get locked up in those eyes
               Far too long in coming.

I've been there before,
     Felt the soothing chains of love,
 Shackled to a lover,
     Hands bound
          To waists,
          To necks,
          To legs and lips.
Gods help me,
     A sweet prison,
Tied in knots of hands and arms and fingers.
Pressed chest to chest,
     We've lost our elbow room
          But gained a view,
     Watch the sun rise everyday,
          In our eyes.

I'm waiting for you,
     Next one in life.
My hands are free,
     My lips are unattached
 'Til you catch me,
     A criminal of love.

Haiku #6: Miraculous Medal

Nov. 23, 2012

Haiku #6: Miraculous Medal

Cold amulet hangs
On her hot chest, burnt lungs filled
With post-coital cool.

Penny's Worth of Thought

Nov. 22, 2012

Penny's Worth of Thought

How lovely it is,
     When all is said and done,
To stare up into the sky
     And know that it does not end?

Haiku #5: Thanksgiving

Nov. 21,  2012

Haiku #5: Thanksgiving

Not another day,
But a day we share the thanks
We give every day.

Poem for Thyself, On a Future Day

Nov. 20, 2012

Poem for Thyself, on a Future Day

Friend, you have gone far.
     You've shaken the earth beneath your feet,
You've travelled the great road
     And found new lands,
And you've longed for him before,
     As you'll long for home again.
So I gave this to you.

Be at peace.
Know I am here beside you,
     No matter who you are,
I am here.

 I am not a god,
     I am but a soul.
 You hold me in your hand
     As you lift the page.

I wish you
     Nothing but peace.

I grant you nothing
     But hope.

I give you
     I am here.

When the heaping weight of the Earth
     Stands on your shoulders,
 When you are plagued
     By the black gnats of fear,
When the whip
     Lashes most,
Say,
     I am here,
         For you are,
And this will always be true,
     For I am here,
          Too.

Encounter with a Man in Need

Nov. 19, 2012

Encounter with a Man in Need

A man came up to me today,
     Name of Mr. Washington.
 I shared my bench
     And we sat down a while.
Bought him a cup of coffee for his story.

Fifteen years in prison,
     Locked up in '97,
Locked up when our towers
     Cracked and shuddered
          The foundations of the world.
Locked up
      When the internet took over,
          Computers in our palms.
Locked up
     When I was eight years old,
          Thinking about church
               And video games.
And now,
     He's free,
But all the world is changed,
     He said,
          All the world is changed.

I gave him a ten dollar bill.

I should've told him,
     I'll tell him now,
You and I
     Are two great Alexanders
          In a world of superheroes.
 Bit by bit
     We'll assemble our empires
           Out of this mess.
My prayers for you,
     I wish you all the best.

Note from a Soul Recently Deceased

Nov. 18, 2012

Note from a Soul Recently Deceased

 From six feet underground

     The world all looks the same,

One big mess

     Of caverns and graves,

 Sprawling out before me,

     But all the people at rest.

 Had I known in life,

     I would have found a patch of grass to lie in,

          and had the world laid out before me.

Live at your best,

     I'll cheer you all the way.

Motion

Nov. 17, 2012

Motion

I like to feel in motion,
     Riding the sidewalks
          Into the paths of Douglass Park.
The sound of passing trains is a comfort,
     The streets steadily alive
          Footsteps pulsing out
               A steady rhythm on gravel.

Even the movement of the pen pleases me,
     Thoughts skittering across a page
          Like scattered swans,
And when I'm sitting still
     I take a great relief,
 Knowing the Earth rolls beneath me,
     Swimming through
          Some heavenly ether,
Towing me slowly out to sea
     With moons and stars.

From the Wood

Nov. 16, 2012

From the Wood

I'm from the wood,
    From wooden castles
          Built upon the hills.
In my younger days
    I ran through pines,
         Ivy and vines
               Clutching with thorns,
          Snatching at my heels.
My size six shoes
     Would come home muddy,
And I would leave them outside
     With the dogs.

My windows were ever green,
     Shaded with blues.

The wood,
     It teaches you to listen,
A listening
     Silence imposes on us.
Came to love lady Echo,
     Jets roaring far overhead,
     Wind pushing needles
          Side to side,
     A quiet shuffling of creatures,
         Too ancient and set in their ways
     To move.

I came to love
     The silent sound of age,
          Waving in the breeze.

 Barefoot on blue rock driveways,
     Laid down half a century ago,
Pressing my toes
     Into a damp stone ribbon,
          Swallowed up by the branches,
               The shadows of fig leaves.

 Now I'm on the traveler's path,
     Leaning against slabs of buildings,
 Listening to the wind whistle
     Off from the lake,
And I still listen out for that timeless,
     That good wooden sound
          Of days inching by.

On My Move to Chicago, IL

Nov. 15, 2012

On My Move to Chicago, IL

Like diving into a concrete ocean,
     Fighting just to reach the surface
          And spitting up slimy chunks of gravel
               and stone.
After recovering from the impact,
     I waded to a semi-solid mass,
          a clod of Earth
               smothered in the sludge.
I went to work,
     chipping off the dirty coat of cement
           til the soil could breathe again,
And,
     hoisting it upon my back
          to keep it dry,
Walked out on the hardening rock
     to find another piece of Earth.

I have built mountains,
     and though I'm on a foreign shore,
I will build again.

Haiku #4: My Hope for our Future

Nov. 14, 2012

Haiku #4: My Hope for Our Future

We make and break love,
Holding hands on hidden paths,
May they always wind.

Georgia Sun

Nov. 13, 2012

Georgia Sun

I made love to Georgia,
     sun streaming through her hair,
Kissed her neck
     and laid her down
          upon the forest floor.
We slept between the hillsides,
     awoke to the pale glow of midnight
          and stretched out our feet in the grass,
     soaked with dew.
We picked our clothes down
     out of the trees,
          shook the magnolias
               'til they rained.

I kissed her then,
     covered in moonlight and cool water,
Held her,
     Felt her pulse fight back the cold
          as she looked into my eyes,
     the look in her eyes
as she held me back.

Heart's in Charleston

Nov. 12, 2012

Heart's in Charleston

Heart's in Charleston where I left it,
     Gave it to her 'neath the moon.
Found my love in Carolina,
     I left her much to soon.
When I'm old and I am weary,
     Please take me to her shore,
 Lost my heart in Charleston,
     Now I'll never love no more.

We first made eyes when I arrived
     On the old I-26,
Her steeples rose before me,
     I knew my soul was fixed.
Her eyes as blue as oceans,
     Her isles all brimming green,
A pearl upon the seashore,
     Finest gem you've ever seen.

Last time I saw her
     was far too long ago.
She kissed me with her her coral lips,
     She begged me not to go,
But I was bound for foreign towns,
     New ports and distant shores,
So I left my heart in Charleston
     So I would never love no more.

A Love Poem, #...Lets' Say 1

Nov. 11, 2012

A Love Poem, #...Let's Say 1

I would wait a hot second
     just to see you smile.
I would wait a hot minute
     to chat with you a while.

I would walk five hundred miles
     to help you cross a step.
I would meet five hundred faces
    'til yours and mine had met.

And

I would tear apart the Earth,
     snap it to halves,
          hurl them to scour the stars,
     lasso the moon,
          recruit Venus for the search,
     blaze my way through time
          to meet you at the end,
     to take you by the hand.
Fade out with you,
      blink back with you,
'Til we begin again.

Public Surfaces

Nov. 10, 2012

Public Surfaces

I am not a sanitizer.

I don't fear rails or handles,
     worn down posts,
          tarnished brass,
               peeling paint or chalked up windows.
Germs may propagate,
     swarm across the surface,
But these things are landmarks,
     Monuments of our day to day.
The broken balustrades,
      The knobs gripped by thousands,
The shaky desktop
     bears the hands
         of souls departed,
               from yesterday to long ago,
And with every touch
     I leave my mark by theirs.

Lean into your seat on the train,
     Feel the millions marching to work
          to feed the family,
                to earn the chance to rest.
I don't feel filth.
I feel a handshake
     from the past,
Warming my palm
     and helping me along.

Ode to Nanowrimo, A Braggart's Tune

Nov. 9, 2012

Ode to Nanowrimo,
     A Braggart's Tune

I took my ship a'sailin',
     A beauty, oh, she was!
But we made for
     an icy shore,
The port a frozen glow,
 She snapped her masts and jib sheets,
     She sank beneath the foam,
I lost my boat
     upon the floes
          of Nanowrimo.

Me mum
      she told me not to go,
           the word count was too high,
But I was brave,
      a foolish knave,
          she knew I'd lost my mind.
Her icy shores, her pearly shine,
     Her women all are fine,
So
I stole my father's fishing boat
     and took her to the brine.

We hit the water running,
      The words they flew and flew,
First past old two thousand
      then four thousand and forty two,
But I slammed the hull
     somewhere around
          six thousand,
              minus a few,
Lost Father's boat
     Upon the floes
           of Nanowrimo.

I may not have got far,
      but I'll claim my words the same!
I struggled though I lost the ship
      upon the roarin' mane,
Even though
     I numbered more
         than I
              can truthfully maintain!

Lost Father's boat
     upon the floes
            of Nanowrimo.
Lost Father's boat,
     a mile or more,
from Nanowrimo!

Inspiration #7

Nov. 9, 2012

Inspiration #7

An interesting feeling,
     denoted by our sense of strength,
That is,
     our strength of soul
          and self.

We rise to it,
     a constant steady climb,
'Til all find,
     at last,
          a place,
               equilibrium,
Or,
As we often feel,
 the Good Lady
     leans down with a kiss,
          filling our mouths
               with a blissful taste.
 All for a moment,
     and she lowers us back to the earth,
The hike still ahead.

Anger Addicts

Nov. 8, 2012

Anger Addicts

We've all met them,
      seen them played
          in many roles.

The ferocious driver,
     running down snakes
           and dogs,
     terrifying parents,
           thrilling children.
The late guest,
      furious at time,
          at their own neglect,
      reaching out
          to snap the smiles around them,
               drowning everyone's party with a sneer.
A child,
     electrified by the feeling of fists,
          striking everyone in reach
     before he sees his wake.

We leap upon our feelings when they fire,
     we cling to them,
          even as our breath steadies,
               hearts pumping us back to equilibrium,
     'til we can light up again
          at the nearest inconvenience.

A Visit to My Backyard

Nov. 7, 2012

A Visit to My Backyard

Let me take you to my backyard.

I'm sitting on the step
     leading out back to the alley,
          everyone's trash overflowing.

Ivy laces the chain link,
     crawls over the shed
          and the house
               and the chair,
          long abandoned
     by an invisible man.

Sometimes I'll use it
     when the house is all asleep,
and watch the days roll into one another
     as the garden wilts into winter.

Two Dragons, Dueling

Nov. 6, 2012

Two Dragons, Dueling

One day
     in a bitter November,
Two dragons met in the skies,
One of red,
     a flaming beast,
          hide studded with gems
               of dead crusaders,
          the wealth of centuries
               mingling in his scales,
     fire seething about his mouth,
And one of blue,
     sapphires lined along his back,
     the scars of axes
                        swords
                        and spears
           forged to his flesh,
     wings blotting out the sun,
     wisps of lightening
           leaking 'round his lips.

The Clash!

Thunder slammed the heavens,
     shaking the stars to the ground
As flame seared the Earth
      and lightening rent the sky!
Mother Nature fled in fear,
      the Fates cowered at their visions,
           and Hope wept.

And when at last the beasts were done,
     one lying dead beneath the other,
I could not tell the winner,
     so blackened were they both
           by the battle.
Upon his rival's corpse he laid his treasure,
      prying the gems from the body,
          adding them to his hoard,
      a mound of gold
          upon the ruined land.

Today upon the train,
       I asked my fellow passenger:

Vote today?
     Nah.
          Not much to vote for.

Sweet Lucy, A Song for the Blues

Nov. 5, 2012

Sweet Lucy, A Song for the Blues

Sweet, sweet Lucy,
      what ya tryin' to prove?
Sweet, sweet Lucy,
     what ya tryin' to prove?
Your children all love you,
     for what you tryin' to do.

You've shown me, Lucy,
     you can stand on your own.
You've shown them, Lucy,
     you can stand on your own.
Just wanna hold you, Lucy,
     You shouldn't be alone.

Come over, sweet Lucy,
     I'm sure to keep you warm.
A kiss, sweet Lucy,
     I'm sure to keep you warm.
I promise, sweet Lucy,
     I don't mean you no harm.

So c'mon, sweet Lucy,
      what ya tryin' to prove?
So c'mon, sweet Lucy,
      what ya tryin' to prove?
I wanna love you, Lucy,
     for what you tryin' to do.

No Sun Morning

Nov. 4, 2012

No Sun Morning

I woke up
      to a no sun morning.
The moon was working overtime,
      leaking out a pale light,
the sky still black
      and tired.

All the trees were starving,
      wilting down
          towards the dead pavement.

A dog howled hoarsely,
     confused and afraid,
But people trudged past,
     unknowing,
          oblivious,
Caring not a button for the darkness.

A Statement of Beleifs

Nov. 3, 2012

A Statement of Beliefs

Believe in the cold
     'cuz you can feel it.
Believe in the heat
     'cuz you can reach it.
Believe in the smiles people share,
     believe that they care
          'cuz they do,
Believe in your art
     'cuz it makes your blood pump.

Believe in the bounty of Earth,
      believe in the beauty,
           Appalachia
               and the Georgia woodlands,
           in the lakes of the Great North,
     in the desert fire
and the golden coasts of the West.

Believe in a god,
      in the universe,
      in tomorrow
           'cuz it's always coming
      whether you want it or not.

Believe in your country,
     in it's place in your world,
           in the day you hold
                 the reins of the earth
                       in your hands.
Believe in paved streets,
     in every child learning
         'cuz every child's learning.
Believe in your rights
     'cuz you have'm.
Believe in the leaders among you,
     in their courage
          'cuz they share it,
     in their trust
          'cuz they give it.
Believe you can raise the nation
     'cuz it's in the palm of your hands.
Believe in the good of all
     'cuz the good of all
           is the only rule you need.
Believe that the stains
      of corruption
          will wash out,
     that two-party
           becomes house party
                and everyone's invited.

Believe in your brothers,
      your sisters,
           your family beyond your blood.

Believe in what you do
     'cuz you do it,
In what you make
      'cuz you made it,
In what you felt
      'cuz you feel it.

Believe in yourself,
     'cuz it's all yourself
           in the end.

Roamin' Home

Nov. 2, 2012

Roamin' Home

I'm tired as a bone,
      and home is where I'm roamin,
Home!
Home!
HOME!
Home is where I'm roamin'!
Where the girls are sweet
     and feed you,
Where the men all laugh
     and greet you,
And your Mother and your Father
      hold you close,
           hold you close.
They sing you songs of old,
      keep you warm when winds are cold,
Home
Home
HOME
      is where I'm roamin'!

Inspiration #6

Nov. 1, 2012

Inspiration #6

I find it
     lots of places.
In the 8-bit rhythm
     of the old N.E.S.,
In the swelling of a Debussy,
In the eyes of the actress,
    filling with tears and laughter,
Snatching your heart away
     to the misty morning
          where you kissed her goodbye
               for the last time.

A warm tune
     we recall,
Tickling our memory
     and stirring our mind
'Til we're spurned from stasis
     and driven
          to make something
               out of nothing,
Every day a measure,
     every moment the note we play,
'Til we see the pattern
     in the madness of the music,
And,
     diving in
          and drowning,
We are carried on
     and on,
          beyond what we thought so.

A Brief Poem...

Oct. 31, 2012

A Brief Poem,
In Which
The Artist Attempts
To Analyze and Express
His Eternal Attitude
For the Contemporary State
of the Electoral Process,
The Two Party System,
And the Prevailing Mentality
Of Our Modern Politicians
Toward their Duty
To Lead the Human Race
Into a Brighter Tomorrow

Pull your head
     Out your ass
And please
     Work together.

Fire Escape Perspective

Oct. 30, 2012

A View from Fire Escapes

We've got a different view
     from the fire escapes,
Huddled up for warmth,
     wind pinching
          our cheeks,
          our ears,
     every inch of flesh we've left exposed.
Our knuckles have it worst,
     clutching our cigarettes stubbornly.

We are determined addicts!
Addicted to laughs,
     and coughs,
     and smiles,
Addicted to dancing
     and shaking the rafters,
1, 2, 3, TURN!
1, 2, 3, BACK!
1, 3, Turn
     and run into each other,
          crashes of laughter,
Slumping to the floor
     in our drunken whirlwind.

In between numbers,
     we steal back to the fire escapes,
Holding hands,
     wondering how we got here.

Haiku #3: I Love Lost

Oct. 29, 2012

Haiku #3: I Love Lost

Sawyer's great, Jack, too,
But I think we all agree
We all want more Kate.

Three Wishes

Oct. 28, 2012

Three Wishes

I wish I wrote like Billy Joel,
     could low his full toned notes
and sing about a steady sadness,
     but he eludes me,
          and my words tend to smile.

I wish I had all the money in the world!
I'd bury it in the moon
      so everyone could dream
      of buried treasure
           when they fell asleep at night.

I wish I were a vine,
     a kudzu vine,
With my feet in the earth
     and my sprawling self
          spread across the world,
     soaking up the sun
at every given moment.

Chorus in Need of a Song

Oct. 27, 2012 (One to grow on!)

Chorus in Need of a Song

Oh,
Oh my soul,
Fallen soul,
We have touched
     and now I've lost control,
Lost control,
Fallen soul.

Satisfaction

Oct. 27, 2012

Satisfaction

It's remarkable,
     impossible to find
          as long as you're lookin'.

So I'll give you some tips.

Satisfaction is a subtle bliss,
     the milk of human kindness,
That rare elixir we read about
     in books by dusty old men.
You can taste it,
      savor it
      in the beer that saves a bad day,
          in the air of your free time,
               in the kiss of that girl,
          that girl with the smiling eyes
     that you can never get enough of.

Don't look for it.
It hides like the snake in the grass,
      leaping up to bite at a chance step,
and though it may frighten,
     the venom will ease,
          sending you to a sleep
    with dreams
you never knew you'd have.

When You Feel Rushed...

Oct. 26, 2012

When You Feel Rushed...

Watch the trees.
They have no care for dates
     but flow through the years,
enduring ages without worry.

Before the minutes were measured,
     before the days were timed,
They sprang from the Earth
     and lived.

Watch the trees.
They calm me,
     remind me
before the watch
     and year
     and time,
Everything still was.

Silence on a Train

Oct. 25, 2012

Silence on a Train (Yay! More Train Poems!)

There's an astounding silence on a train,
     floating between the dozens of people per car.

Crowded day
     and we're shoulder to shoulder,
Sharing the air unwillingly
     with moms
     with dads,
     sisters and brothers,
hundreds of relations
     we can't begin to unravel.
We bunch like birds,
     standing lock-kneed,
          doubling over in chairs,
               killing ourselves to keep from touching.
Everyone holds their breath
    against each other,
The bizarre social circumstance of strangers.

A passenger lets his skateboard drop
     KA-KLACK!
The whole car jumps,
     save for a few deafened veterans.
The boarder just smiles
     and hops off at the next stop,
leaving us with our dying laughter
     as the silence resets itself
          and gains control again.

Love Song for a Pennsylvania Girl

Oct. 24, 2012

Love Song for a Pennsylvania Girl

Before I drift to sleep tonight,
     I'll tell you 'bout a girl,
the Pennsylvania girl.
There the wind runs cool
     over the mountain roads,
          sighing over the snow covered hills,
               whispering in the firs,
a deep breathing kind of air,
      filling the lungs with grey skies.

That air was first to give her life,
     the Pennsylvania girl,
Taught her fast
      the strength of the North,
Taught her the taste
     of good earth on her tongue.

You can see it in her eyes,
     the cold,
see the struggle to survive,
     unbreakable grey-blue eyes
          to freeze you fast,
               command you still
                    before her.

I've never seen her home,
     the Pennsylvania girl,
But I see her strolling 'twixt the trees,
     pushing aside snow laden limbs,
Her body
     cloaked in fur and denim,
Warming up the forest with a smile,
Hair collecting snowflakes,
     anointing her in frost,
          glowing heavenly white.

I left her on a porch.
The Greeks would build her temples,
     and I left her on a porch,
          turned her into a memory,
     my favorite dream,
the Pennsylvania girl.

Nocturnal

Oct. 23, 2012

Nocturnal

I've gone nocturnal,
flitting back and forth like a moth.
At night I'm alive,
      swimming through the dark,
brushing wings with my fellow nighthawks,
each of us patrolling the moonlight
      to spare the Men of day.

We fight away nightmares,
      making sure the world still turns
          while no one is looking,
and at dawn we hand the reins
     to the morning shift,
landing on early trains
     and beds
     and loaned love seats,
resting 'til the sun cools down
     and the day seeks relief.

Haiku #2: Flowers on the Fence

Oct. 22, 2012

Haiku #2: Flowers on the Fence

Flowers on the fence
Choking chain links with their stems,
Fighting to survive.

Haiku #1: Masterful Poets

Oct. 21, 2012

Haiku #1: Masterful Poets

Masterful poets
Sculpted simple words from thoughts,
Made the first haikus.

Scottish Infection

Oct. 20, 2012

Scottish Infection

Last night,
     I was infected
          by a Scottish beat.
My blood's been pumped
     with northerly winds,
and the only time I can keep
     is a steady
la-la-la-la,
a thrilling dash
     through the hills,
bounding over cool stone,
     frosted by the snow,
digging my feet into
     frozen turf,
the pounding of my heart
      the only thing to keep me warm.

Every breath is laced with winter,
     smells of ancient earth
          filling my nostrils,
          in my sweat,
     a good sweat,
          cooling off the skin.

I'm delirious,
     my eyes blurred by visions,
strong women and men,
     brusque and beautiful.

A Random Sighting with Sleep in My Eyes #1

Oct. 19, 2012

A Random Sighting with Sleep in My Eyes #1

Grey spotted dog on the roof!
He snuck on through an unlocked door
     that Juan left open
          when he went to lunch.

First the snout peeks out,
     a nostril radar:
What's this place, huh?
It's warm,
     that's nice
BUT WAIT
What's that
      I saw it move
 It moved
     I saw!

He creeps out and bares a little teeth
     at a wind blown garbage bag,
But when it doesn't jump him,
     he pads slowly out into the sun,
tilting his ears to the sound of traffic,
     finally finds a corner
and tucks himself inside it,
      smiling a wet pink mouth
and showing his tummy to the sky.

Running Late

Oct. 18, 2012

Running Late

Shit.
Shitting shit shit.
No time to brush
     or wash
     or floss,
Just slap-dash pack
     and out the door,
Losing too many minutes
     even with just that!
Every second counts,
     and they've all gotten shorter
Out running me
     as we both race to work,
     or play,
     or date and play.
Rush past all niceties and manners,
     push out everyone else
           with their own times
           and dates
           and deadlines
     and go,
lashing myself to fervor,
     the whip in my right hand.

An Uncomfortable Search

Oct. 17, 2012

An Uncomfortable Search

Search me,
     officer.
That's what he said,
     with regular fiery looks in his eyes,
his bag on the ground,
     his hands at his thighs
          in tight fists.

We're on the side road,
     by a K-Mart,
a couple of miles from home.
We were all business,
     a regular routine stop,
          a warning kind of occassion,
so I thought,
yet we've been stopped for a search,
     irregular,
          uncomfortable.

Officer Jackson,
     leaning through the window,
Why are you uncomfortable,
     he asks.
 I'd like a cigarette,
     says my passenger.

Door opens.
     DON'T DO THAT!
Get back in the car!
Why are you uncomfortable?
He says,
     I have anxiety.
          Search me, officer.

He takes me aside,
     Officer Thomson,
Is he hiding something?
     You're liable,
          and why,
          is he uncomfortable?

Passenger door,
     Do I need to search your bag?
Here it is,
     he says,
          lets it fall to the ground.
Search me,
     officer.

Comes back to me,
     Officer Monroe,
So,
     Why is he uncomfortable?
Sir,
     He' just uncomfortable.

And that was that,
     we drove away,
myself disturbed,
     my passenger
          uncomfortable.

A Warm Day Between Cold Spells

Oct. 16, 2012

A Warm Day Between Cold Spells

A warm day in October
     on the shores of Lake Michigan.
Timid townies peep out their dors,
     waiting for a frigid wind
     to blow down the day.
But for once,
     the wind is still.

It's a miracle!

And suddenly the doors burst open,
     windows nearly broken
In a mad rush outdoors.
Children stare agape
     as all their parents
          peel off their coats,
     start dancing in the warm sunlight.

The air is filled with stained glass shards,
     yellow-red-gold
          still clinging to the trees,
Catching the sun,
     refracting it
          millions of billions of ways,
     'til the Tuesday atmosphere
          is all color
               and dance.

Watching Others on the Train

Oct. 15, 2012

Watching Others on the Train

Watching others
     watching others,
Watching others on the train.
A grey haired man
     plays with his fingers,
Reads the texts
     of a tired Korean woman sitting next to him.
Across from her
     is a Mexican mother,
Making faces at her daughter,
     laughter in the arms of her father,
          brother sulking in the corner,
     watching others,
watching others.

A grey hooded man sleeps
     with his hands in his pockets,
         dreams of thick jackets,
While a woman with a rosary
     hums a hymn
          and rocks herself to sleep.
Favored past time for city couples,
     silent smiling lips,
          inches apart,
     subtle points from fingertips
          flick from him,
     to her,
to me,
     sitting back two rows,
watching others
     watching others on the train.

Oct. 14, 2012

Graffiti Bandit

There's a graffiti bandit on the Pink Line.

They say he only strikes at night,
     clad in black,
          a prowling wildcat of a man,
     carving his signature into the walls and windows
          from Clinton down to Cicero.
A bounty's on his head,
     a hundred grand!
For anyone who can catch
     this dreaded fiend.

I saw him once.

I was sitting,
     shivering in the wind
          atop the California stop,
     my arms splayed back to prop me up,
When quiet as a cat
     a man crept up
And traced my hand
     with a navy blue crayon.
He tossed me a wink,
     and scratched a hasty
          "J.T."
     on the seat next to me,
Before he leapt across the rails
     and danced away along the rooftops.

My Dogs are Barkin'!

Oct. 13, 2012

My Dogs are Barkin'!

When you're on your feet as much as me,
     you start to know this feeling,
Like your bones will
     CRACK 'n SNAP in half
          at any step you take.

Know what I mean?
     Good.

So,
I was headin' home last night,
     strollin' California in Little Mexico,
When
CRACK 'n SNAP
     go the bones in my shoes,
My arches shuddered
    'n collapsed flat,
And down I rolled
With a WHUMP,
landing with my back against
     a tiny,
          single table taqueria.
My poor dogs let out a howl of pain,
     so loud they woke the neighbors.
Out of the house steps this sweet abuela,
     grey haired
          with skin wrinkled as a husk of corn,
          tanned a leathery brown.

Eh Gringo!
     Your howling woke me up,
          so keep it down!
     I've got seven mouths to feed at morning,
          and I'm frying 'til the night!

I said,
     Abuela,
          Perdoname, perdoname,
     but a ten hour day
          for ninety dollars
               is enough to make any dog cry.

She stepped my way,
CRACK 'n SNAP
And she went down!
I caught her in my arms
     to the sound of her feet how-howlin',
neighbors screaming out
     all down the street,
but we just laughed,
     and wept,
          and shared,
     me on ticket sales,
          her on empanadas,
               and the shores of Mexico.

Oct. 12, 2012

Shoreline

We're on the pier,
No one about
     but the Rip Van Winkle guard,
permanently napping at his post,
     crosswords clutched in his hand.

Looking inland,
We see the great meeting of the seas,
One of earth,
     lapping up against the land,
           receding to the depths,
And one of man,
     solid tides rippling skyward,
          glittering steel and glass waves
     frozen in the air
          as they slam against the lake shore.

There's a path that runs between them,
     and we share it single file,
          you and me,
     longboarding between the shores
          of earth and man.

Observing Harold in Flight

Oct. 11, 2012

Observing Harold in Flight

Consider Harold and his life.

Harold's life's in flight,
cut cutting
thrust thrusting through the air
     like a swan,
          stream lined
               and rocket fueled.

Harold flies so fast,
     Faster than sound and light
'til everything dissolves around him.
He's just a speck of light,
     a star until he supernovas.

And all the while Harold's zooming,
     all the other stars are shooting,
and down below them all
     spins the perfect perch,
round and wet
     with plenty of spots in the shade.

A Ladder on Michigan Avenue

Oct. 10, 2012

A Ladder on Michigan Avenue

A ladder leans against a scraper
     planted along Michigan Avenue.
The rungs splintered long ago,
     coarse,
           brown wood swelling up beneath the bolts,
time tearing through the boards.

The concrete tower shoots up to the clouds,
   
 but

 her golden foundations tarnish,
      and the fire escapes succumb
           to rust.

Oct. 9, 2012

To a Stranger Recently Deceased

I was wondering if you smoked.

It's my preferred form of self-destruction,
     and more fun with a friend.
You took the fast route
     while I'm trudging slowly towards the goal,
          a cool spot in the earth.
I was hoping to sit and chat
     in broken Spanish,
garbling our way through introductions,
sifting our way to the heart of our words.

Interesting thing,
     people meeting people.
It's souls meeting souls,
     miracles meeting miracles.

We met once,
     just once,
an anomaly of chance
     hours before your last breath.

Who's to say
     random
          isn't
               miraculous?

Oct. 8, 2012

When I Shared a Cigarette #1

Northern skies shine,
     crisp on a Sunday morning.

In the grass by my bare feet,
A lame grasshopper struggles through the lawn,
     hobbling his way to the sidewalk,
          his left leg pinched off by Fate,
A weathered old man
      who's seen better days.

He reaches the pavement,
      pops a squat,
          and I scooch over
               to give him some room.
He's about the size of my cigarette butt,
     so I pinch off a scrap of tobacco to share.
He lights it up gratefully.

I ask him,
     "How'd you lose the leg?"

He takes a drag.
"Fuckin' sparrow.
Clipped me over on Damen.
Never saw him comin'.

Not so bad,
     really,
          but haven't gone hoppin' since.
Thanks for the smoke."

He stumbles on his way,
     and I do my best
          to brush away the marching ants
               hot on his trail.
    

Oct. 7, 2012

A Poem after Four Weeks in Town

Life's happening in Chicago.

The air may be cold,

     but it breathes the same.

Neon shining skies

     still hold the moon.

The streets run empty at midnight,

     and tomatoes grow in the garden,

          curling through the cool.

People still smile

     when they don't know the words to say

"Hello"

Trying Again

      A few years ago, I tried an experiment where I attempted to write one poem each day for a year. I made it from May to November, I think, and while I may have failed to meet my 365 goal I did thrive off the constant creative challenge.

     I'm going to give it another go.

     Background on the time lapse: I've recently moved from college town and fantasy wonderland that is Athens, Georgia, to the train roaring streets of Chicago. No more school. Mainly just living now.

    Thanks for reading. Did you know it's good for you now?