A Reappearance of John, Part 1: On the Corner of Hudson Avenue

Jan. 31, 2013

A Reappearance of John, Part 1: On The Corner of Hudson Avenue

After work,
     I shuffle home,
Sludging my way
     through melted,
          black pools of snow.
It's a daily routine.

One night,
     fresh from sludging,
I turned the corner
     down my avenue,
And who's there
      smokin' a cigarette
But my old friend
     John,
          the blind,
               time travelling hobo.

How'd you find me?
     I ask.

John Said

Didn't you
     find me?
          Either way,
               We're both here.

We shook each others hands
     and climbed the stairs
          to my apartment.

Haiku #25: Goat

Jan. 30, 2013

Haiku #25: Goat

Shaking in the rain,
Capricorn clings to her rock,
Steady and unmoved

Twenty Pack of Coke

Jan. 29, 2013

Twenty Pack of Coke

Coca-Cola!
You sweet devil,
     you sticky stain,
          syrup in my blood.
You are my cultural obligation,
     my home town soda,
          and I've gotta represent.

Weekdays Off

Jan. 28, 2013

Weekdays Off

I've had two days off in Chicago.
No money,
     but I don't let that stop me.
Living off sweet coffees
     at corner cafes,
Tucked by their windows,
I kill my time
     studying business people
          about their business,
At work and play,
     Laughing,
          Staring into something that's not there.

Stepping Out for a Smoke

Jan. 27, 2013

Stepping Out for a Smoke

I stepped outside for a smoke
     and got lost.
Somewhere by the door,
     I turned down a street
          I hadn't known before.
Now I do,
     five minutes of memory saved,
The world larger
     and a cigarette burned.

Harp Playing in Bed

Jan. 26, 2013

Harp Playing in Bed

The shoes have come off.

I'm laid up on her bed,
     harp cradled to my lips.
I'm breathin',
She's breathin',
     strummin' a six string with love
          and a smile.

We sing to each other
     like a couple of birds,
Our notes twisting together.
I don't need to smoke,
Don't need to think,
     to breathe,
Just wanna blow my harp,
     Just wanna blow my harp.

Haiku #24: Oooh, Television

Jan. 25, 2013

Haiku #24: Oooh, Television

Netflix! You sneak up
And seize me by the eyeballs,
unplugging my brain.

54th and Roy

Jan. 24, 2013

54th and Roy

Michael trims the roses
     at 54th and Roy,
Clearing away the dead blooms
     that froze despite the sunlight.
He grips their stems with ungloved hands,
     grey palms snapping off the thorns.
Well weathered hands twist,
     crack,
          tear away the flowers,
Scratch his head,
     Pick the shriveled leaves
          As all the cars pass by on the freeway.

Dazed and Confused: Theme and Variation

Jan. 23, 2013

Dazed and Confused: Theme and Variation

I wake up
     with my face pressed into linoleum,
          ass in the wind.
Roll over,
     shuddering to a seat,
          pressing back into the bathtub.
The floor sticks to my hands,
     and wherever I'm sitting is wet.

Slowly on my feet,
     and the mirror's ghostly white,
Eyes sunk and dazed,
     Ashen lips,
          Teeth chattering.

I can't feel them chatter.

The ceiling bulb casts a pale light,
     chilling.

Snippet of Spring

Jan. 22, 2013

Snippet of Spring

Spring erupts
     out of the snow!
The ice runs screaming,
     the streets become a muck,
And shining in the murky grey of it all,
     The Sun comes riding out!

Let's keep it real:
This is but a snippet of Spring to come,
     bubbling over into January,
But I've stripped my coat
     so I can breathe in the rain.

Haiku #23: Drag Race

Jan. 21, 2013

Haiku #23: Drag Race

Rupaul addiction,
My guiltless pleasure that lets
Me feel fabulous.

Wind Maker

Jan. 20, 2013

Wind Maker

She goes by many names.

Some call her Zephyr,
     the breath that kisses our cheeks,
Or Gust,
     the spirit that snatches at our coats,
          carrying off our breath to the mountains.
She is Biter in the Northlands,
      where she rips at our flesh
          in a cold rage,
And in the Plains,
     deep beneath cellar doors,
          her name is whispered,
                "Death."

She's many forms.
In grey stoned Rockies,
     Citizens see her as the Eagle,
          Summoning up currents beneath her wings.
In the northwestern woodlands
     She is the whispering dragon,
          Brushing the pine needles aside
     As she breathes pure air from the ocean,
          grey and clean.

I met the Lady in my homeland,
     Southern green valley.
She dressed in lilac,
     Shades of summer green,
          barefoot and dancing in the grass.
Her beauty,
     breathtaking,
          for she is breath.
She held me in silence upon the hill,
     and when she kissed me goodbye...

Her lips tasted of snowfall.
Mistress to none,
     she is the Wind Maker,
          and she dances upon the grass.

Litterbug

Jan. 19, 2013

Litterbug

Poor little litterbug,
     aged seven and a quarter!
She drops her Skittle wrappers
     to paint the rainbow on the lawn,
Breaks bottles on the pavement
     to catch the light at dawn.

Haiku #22: Drifter

Jan. 18, 2013

Haiku #22: Drifter

Riding on the foam,
The pits and whorls of the wood
Tell seaborne stories.

Haiku #21: Tangela

Jan. 17, 2013

Haiku #21: Tangela

Celadon killer,
Lovecraftian spore sprayer,
A grass type demon.

System Requirement

Jan. 16, 2013

System Requirement

I need regular ventilation,
     Not once  a week or month.
I'm like the motherboard,
     Turn me on and air me out.
See,
     I've got a mind
          that runs on overtime,
     A body that wants
          for action,
     Longs to burst out of my skin
          and into yours,
     Dissolve this four limbed frame
          and flit about about the lamplight,
               moth-like,
     Taking deep drinks
          of everyone I meet
                to cool my throat, my eyes.

Do me a favor.
Next time you see me,
     don't say a word.
Just grab my hand and take off running,
     I promise I'll come tumbling after.

Haiku #20: Silent on the Train

Jan. 15, 2013

Haiku #20: Silent on the Train

Drowning in faces,
Greyed and silent on the train,
No one dares to breathe.

OKCupid Asks Me What I'm Good At

Jan. 14, 2013

OKCupid Asks Me What I'm Good At

1. Making Lists.
2. Trying Hard.3. Taking it easy.4. Thinking about you.5. Smilin'.6. Writin'.7. Rhymin'.8. Brainstorming.9. Brainsieging.10. Mutual Brain Picking.11. Listenin'.12. Whistlin'.13. Kissin'.14. Practicin'.15. Daydreamin'.16. Dropping g's for phonetic and poetic effect.

God Save the King, Theme and Variation

Jan. 13, 2013

God Save the King, Theme and Variation

The Aristocracy of America
     is alive and well,
Taking in matinees
     in trussed up coats and wigs,
          yellowed teeth rattling in laughter.
No crowns adorn their heads,
     No honor in their blood,
Just an aging pair of eyes blind to tomorrow,
     A dying caste,
          kings and queens
               abandoning their duty.

Prayer

Jan. 12, 2013

Prayer

I send my prayers to a specific address:

The Universe,
Et. al.
Everywhere.

See,
     I don't follow god in traditional sense.
No religious bending of the afterlife
     into fenced off neighborhoods for me.

I send my divinities
     to everywhere,
Every pinch of stuff
     that holds the whole together.

In short,
I pray to everything,
     everyone,
          You are who I pray to.

God,
     give me strength,
          Keep the good of man in your mind,
               Compassion and Hope for us all
                    in your heart.

Service Man's Diet

Jan. 11, 2013

Service Man's Diet

I eat a lot of eggs.
Every morning,
     if I can make it from the bed.
Eggs and milk and bread,
     that's my diet,
And I boil it down with coffee,
     A muddy fuel for me
          As I earn my day's wages
                holding hands,
Figuring out the role of service man,
      the human interface for the confused.
We plug up the gap,
      mend the fences,
          mind the door,
      little big men
          to help the Average Joe survive.

Then,
    when the day's work is done,
          we use our feet
               to carry us home.

Question for Daydreamers

Jan. 10, 2013

Question for Daydreamers

What happened
     when we forgot we did that?
When we turn around and see
     the bed made up
          or the room straightened?
Where were we in that moment?

We're you doing back flips in your head?
     Lost in thoughts of tomorrow
          or the warmth of the past?
Did you drape yourself in clouds
     and snuggle by the sun fire,
          camped beyond the moon?

I often find myself in stars,
     hopping about from planet to planet,
           hoping for someone to talk to.

Enlightenment

Jan. 9, 2013

Enlightenment

This ain't life.
This is enlightenment,
Our brief moment in time
     to make sense of it all.
We are but ruins
     in the eyes of our posterity,
          curious stones
               nudged from side to side.

Every moment
     is our waking moment.
Every day,
     a chance,
Not an endless toil,
     nor a brutal race to the finish,
But a voyage,
     to be taken across
          seas of years,
               seas of years,
And land in some distant port,
     our selves
          freshened by the wind.

Street Performer's Speech

Jan. 8, 2013

Street Performer's Speech

Excuse me Mister Gentleman, sir,
     can you spare a quarter?
          Nickels and dimes'd be fine.
See,
     me and my boys
          gotta raise fifty bucks a pop,
Just so we can play some old buckets
     on a cold Michigan spot,
          right by the lake.
Let me tell you,
     there'll be a view!
Picture yourself,
     as the drums fill the air,
          lake side,
     with the wind buh-blowin'
          and your girl ho-holdin' you tight,
Out on a Sunday walk,
     listenin' to yours truly
          as I play some sensual rhythms
              to give you that good feelin'!
Just some spare change,
     Mister Gentleman, sir,
You'll be lovin'
     and I'll be fed.
Mister,
     can you spare a quarter?

Chicago

Jan. 7, 2013

Chicago

Gettin' stoned
     with the wind,
Tucked away in a west side backyard,
     Listening to echoes
          roaring off the El.
The cold air lights me up,
     roses my cheeks.
Coffee tastes better,
     thick stuff that sticks,
And sidewalks
     make you walk them.

You've got to want to walk them.

The city asks one thing,
     Respect.
It's not here for you,
     You're here for it,
         pumping Leviathan's blood,
And in exchange
     she cradles you in concrete arms,
Rocking you to sleep
     to the old urban lullaby
          of bus stops and sirens.

A Whisper 1

Jan. 6, 2013

A Whisper 1

Last night,
     I listened to a song
That reminded me to say
     I've been away from you too long.

My Rose Poem

Jan. 5, 2012

My Rose Poem

This is a poem about a rose.
I know.
What old woman is writing this?
Truth be told,
I got a little old lady in my head,
     lecturing me always on what's important,
And because I love her
     I'm giving her the day.
Plus,
     I hear Shakespeare thought it was sexy,
          and who doesn't want that feeling?

I love the rose,
      Lush,
           Deep,
The feel of thorns
      Pulling at my hands,
Remind me while I hold it
      that it holds me back.

How I'm Feelin' When I'm Crushin'

Jan. 4, 2013

How I'm Feelin' When I'm Crushin'

If I had my way,
     I'd be kissin' you every day,
Taking drags from your lips
     and gettin' stoned off your sighs,
Throw your thighs onto my shoulders
     and carry you around
          like a bad habit.

Haiku #19: On Smoking Cigarettes

Jan. 3, 2013

Haiku #19: On Smoking Cigarettes

Three to five a day?
Sure, it kills me slowly, but
At least it ain't meth.

Picture of a Heaven and a Hell

Jan. 2, 2013

Picture of a Heaven and a Hell

Heaven
     is going to be
Dancing,
     with all those loved ones you remember
          from kisses,
               and fingertips,
          little glances
               in moonlights,
         smiling whispers
               and ocean side secrets,
And the music is killer.

Hell
     will be
Seeing them all,
     Standing still on the dance floor
          in dead silence,
     Not knowing their names,
          or if you ever knew them,
And it's cold outside.

First Reaction to 2013

Jan. 1, 2013

First Reaction to 2013

Twenty thirteen.
It feels weird.
     Like we shouldn't have got here.
I feel,
     eerie,
          Lovecraftian.
The people seem fictitious,
     little magical stories
          that feel unreal,
That man in headphones,
     interstellar music
          pumping into his body,
     unable to hear
          the sound of the wind
               pushing him around.
The sun itself glows old,
     a pale neon light
          that turns our shadows yellow
     as we walk down the old streets.

They're all
     old streets.

Man has hit his middle age,
     Looking at his ears and feet
          And wondering how they got so big.