When my hamster died
I knelt down
Clutching him between
Trembling fingers
As his soft body
Cooled and stiffened
To hardening knobs
That felt like a
Handful of rocks
He dissipated
To lifelessness
No matter how hard
I cried and
Tried to hold on
Month: June 2009
June is gone
poetryjust like that,
gone before
i knew it was here,
gone again
like all the others,
with not much accomplished
with not much changed,
except for me,
somethings changed
inside of me.
The 30th of June
poetrytantalizing clouds
hold out hope of rain;
perhaps there will be fireworks.
haiku
poetrysummer is a whirl
pool dragging me into
lethargy
.
Speak Sleep
poetryAnd raindrops sing
a lullaby
I only find disjointing,
so close the window tight,
and one more thing:
Goodnight.
Can you believe this country?
poetryno matter how i try i can’t
get over the sun i can’t
grasp this crispy air i can’t
pass by a shadow without awe i can’t
digest the portion size i can’t
while seated on clean grass i can’t
i can’t i can’t i can’t i can’t
and i’m loving every minute
Real
poetryYou know who your real friends are
Because they send you text messages
At 12:01 wishing you a “Happy Birthday!”
The rest just leave posts on your Facebook wall.
Release
poetryIt all came
from my saxophone
but
none of it was me
Though I must admit
that some of it
was the best
I’d ever played
Of course,
I’m also glad
to take the credit
Don’t Pretend
poetryI don’t pretend
To pretend I know
Where I’m headed
Or need to go
If I live life too fast
Or live too slow
I don’t pretend
To pretend I know
All these thoughts
That come and go
If I live for today
Or for years ago
I don’t pretend
To pretend I know
What seeds to plant
Or seeds to sow
And once they are
If they’ll grow
I don’t pretend
To pretend I know
How or when
Harsh winds will blow
What I should keep
And what to throw
I don’t pretend
To pretend I know
But this is true
Yes, this is so
It is through God
Who all things flow
more than meets the eye
poetryis my constant hope
surveying my transformed life;
is there more than this?
Day 2 of The Rest of My Life
poetrywhen the entire
part
worth remembering
hurts
this bad, I
know
it’s worth
remembering.
Hate When This Happens
poetryI forgot to remember
All the while knowing
That I would forget by morning
And go figure, sure enough
I did, and no amount
Of brain racking helped
To alleviate the exasperation
Because I simply couldn’t
Remember what I knew
I’d forget but remembered
Thinking in the first place
Dont stop
poetrywhen the french come
tell them I’m gone
er
tell them anything they’re french
(and for some reason in this country
french racism just isn’t)
when they come just tell them
i left
er
tell them the truth. they’re french
Authorship is Next to Godliness
poetryover seven years,
i watched you grow
and watched you learn
what love could be,
and now i return
to your beginning
in preparation to witnessing
your penultimate story;
because i know so well
how it all will end,
i can’t help but wonder
what premonitions you had
and whether you were aware
of your maker’s plan,
just like i hunger to know
God’s plan for me.
these holy leaves
poetrystand testament
to the persisting existence of
pests
so i stand
organic pesticide
in my raised right hand
left clutching the hose
as i demand
billowing conviction:
LET MY VEGETABLES GROW!
MJ
poetryNo one had mentioned a word about him in months.
And if they did, it was to gawp at his absurdities.
So how come now that he’s dead,
Suddenly, we were all his best friends?
Lamenting what a wonderful human being he was,
Crowding the streets,
Dancing the macabre,
Enamored with tragedy.
Meanwhile, the economy is flailing,
There’s starving children in impoverished homes,
Integrity is archaic.
Our savior is a pop singer.
Here’s an idea:
How about we stop obsessing over the dead,
And focus on the living.
laundry day
poetryput it all in the bag;
it all is filthy
from the accumulated use
of these last two weeks
from everywhere we’ve been
and everywhere we’ve gone
and from when we stayed in
sweating in the Texas heat;
clean out your closet
and find the set of clothes
that you’d been saving out
for just the right time
that never seems to come
before the next laundry call;
so put it in the bag
along with your dreams;
i bring you home a basket
all nice and neat,
folded and ready to be put away,
all snugglable and reeking
of cleanliness and sanitization
so that all of the character
has been washed away
by laundry day.
intimidation
poetrywhy i always feel this way
i can’t really very clearly say
for after all you’re just a man
and not very tall when you stand
but whenever i’m in your presence
my mind is filled with interference
and i can’t think of anything to say
to make my reticence go away
which only makes the situation more awkward
as i watch our relationship move backward.
reflections on a recycling system and i swear i’m not referencing my bowels
poetryloose
like the sugar on a perfectly
powdered donut
and of a similar consistency
you look less delicious
coming out
than you did going in
Awkward Silences
poetrySometimes
I’ll stop talking all at once,
Just to see what the silence feels like.
Is it still uncomfortable?
Or does she understand
That there aren’t any awkward silences anymore.
They’re all very comfortable.
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