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.