Friday, March 29, 2013

A Life For A Life



The plan was different,
She, spent,
Rifting minutes
Tending to his bent projection
Malleable tear from within
Without care
For life’s beauty,
Who could predict?
Why should I try?
The point
Counters
Absent of adversarial foe
Breath,
A beautiful moment unexpectedly
(Aren’t they all?)
Upon me,
Ahhhhhhhh.
The infinitesimal breadth of true experience.
I humbly promise to serve thee,
As you serve me so well,
Trusting in you, tense of the beloved,
Tense of my beloved,
As I have felt your heart beat,
As I have felt hers,
And know without question for it to be true—
What a present together are the two!
Today, I water my seeds
Uproot this backwards thinking disease
Of that stuck in some place where now used to be mentality
Steering clear of hypothetical fast forwards
Watching parenthetical asides inside my mind float by
Giving in to this moment,
Knowing that because I do
My flowers bloom
In daylight
The same as they do in this dark room,
Predictable, darkness of night and lighter day,
The twilight of enlightenment, knowing it as no other way.

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Roots



Strong and old is the crest,
Lushly splayed out,
The outlay of its efforts vast,
Lavish, full of life
Inviting a rug rat to climb,
Musicality to the ears of chirpy chatty visitors
That frequent, nature kept abreast of any changes
New developments
New players
Or new layers,
Listening with an ear to the ground
In the absence of an axe to grind
The world, watches as life unwinds,
A walker in a park along any path with trees
Knows what this is about, family—
From the bottom up,
The lightest sprinkle of earthen ash,
A mother, a father, gone in a flash
Touches the soul forever
As dirt under dirt,
Inner beings pull down like a lever
Lifting our hearts, growing this tree of ancestry
Alive in us always, forever
A part of this world,
As are we,
For our neighbors, our friends,
Our descendants to see.

Sparks Fly



To the end of the Earth
His love unfurls for her,
Birth right or be damned
This land to be lived on
His love, un-tempered
Runs free,
The frozen tundra
The way that she lays
The light fertile rays
Given off
Unfreezes ground,
She is weightless
He feels no weight
Two hearts the same rate,
Blood pumping emotion,
Mindlessness comingled,
Raw, animalistic tingle,
Electromagnetic if only for a single
Second, as if the Earth were flat and should end.

Monday, March 25, 2013

Directional

In the corner of a white, cluttered room,
In the darkest sector of brain
Sits a boy,
The mind of man
His present play toy—
Dunce cap his crown to wear
The man walks cautiously,
As if in the dark,
Feeling for an end to this wall or that,
In search of another corner he might turn—
In spite of laughter heard
He continues,
Turns inward
At the end of each wall
His fingers graze along that
Eventually ends.
A starved rodent of the road,
Amazed at the nothingness amassed,
Round and round
His circular logic,
Food for thought
In this four-sided space—
A bulb goes off,
A door opens—
A bridge is burned,
A youth left behind.

Saturday, March 23, 2013

Night's Reminisce



A good drunken poem
Is a phlegm pulling overturn
A heart pumping overture
A soul pulling undertow
That lets you out
Brings you back

The Jetty


Sometimes I still dream the boyhood dream
A boat with no steam
Just a sail and the wind at his back on the open ocean—
In my mind
I take that little old fighter,
Just some shoddy old sawn timber and
A little chewing gum really,
And push off from the jetty
To get away from it all.
I move peacefully through the canals,
Feeding the swans,
Trolling, for baby blues—
It’s a Sunday,
And I’ve nowhere to be.
The bay is rough on Tuesday
And the dead baby birch
With the bed sheet tied to it
I erected and clamped down to the center of the boat
Wavers as the choppiness of the water
And the surface area of the waves
Belabors my efforts to reach sea.
Finally, here I am,
Winds are swirling
And I’m clinging to what’s left of the boat
Praying to God I am heard.
All alone
Out here, in my mind,
I’ve had it—
The present slowly comes back into focus,
 I’m in a place I know well—
Though things still seem rocky,
And although I’m surrounded by family,
This is better than before.
The weekend’s just begun,
And on Sunday I’ll cast my line from the shoreline
And ride out the rest with those closest to my heart. 

Love and the Spirit of Holidays

White Christmas lights lit
Tinsel, loneliness, linger,
She lifts my spirits.

New York Nine to Five



A heart on the rise,
The heart of an average everyday Joe
With the flow of traffic,
Condensed merging myth of the road
Laughter, a cackle from above, devilish
At the sight of sore
Loathing eyes, redden with rage,
This heart like cream in
My coffee, the dream, sinking,
Smoke rising to meet the crease of
Hand rolled window down and the open uppity air—
Americana, how could you dare
Take a turn for the worst?
A swerve without signal,
The curse of misguided self in me, embedded in
Societal swell,
The hell in directionless selfishness
Of commuters commuting, to feel
This heart on the rise,
Dying down in a moment,
The flashes of faces, truths
About me,
About you,
About us,
The average everyday
Imperfect commuter’s trek,
Navigating through life
The mind and the self,
The societal swell,
Seeing the heaven
Extrapolate from hell
This heart returns,
To match mind,
Becomes one again with able body
And good soul,
Burns warm again to light up this coal.