Abba
March 24, 2010
Between bent blinds
Kaleidoscoping the balmy afternoon sidewalk
A small boy snaps the latch of his helmet
Sandy-hair in protruding tufts around the edges
With watermelon smile he climbs on his bicycle
Absent of training wheels—discarded in the lawn
Shakily he pedals forward, adding quickening speed
But while looking back for his father’s adulation
In a moment of jubilance he forgets his balance
His plump-lipped grin drowned by dilated pupils
Watching bright red handlebars ripple and swerve
Pitching him forward onto the sunburned cement
Tangled appendages and twirling aluminum spokes
Are instantly charged by his monitoring father
Retrieving a bawling boy from the wreckage
Firm forearms hold the trembling mass to his chest
Offering unreserved comfort to his fallen child
And beyond the window he mouths the words
It’s okay, it’s okay, you’ll be all right
The sobbing subsides and the father gently brushes
Asphalt scorched elbows and pebbled palms
Before kissing moist, ruddy, and chubby cheeks
And the boy nods his bulbously helmeted head
Together they salvage his bicycle upright
His father grasps tightly to the colored bars
As the boy confidently, with his father’s help
Remounts his position onto the plastic seat
Stepping back the father examines his courageous son
Who taking a deep breath recovers his pert smirk
His deliberate eyes narrowing as he looks onward
In the faith that his father will follow him every step
And with every tick and churn of the tire spindle
Direct his journey along the uneven sidewalks
That should he falter, his father without question
Will unconditionally come to his child’s rescue
All we have to do, is trust
do not associate the focus of this poem with any type of pre-existing ideal or concept that exists within your brain unless, of course, you’re right
February 28, 2010
you have shown me how
to get things done
you have shown me what
emotions can do
i have seen how you let
random entities bounce
chaotically off of each-other
for eternity
you have shown me how
i can be fooled
i have witnessed the steadfast
nature of your creations and
i have listened to old men
talk,
old men who really had it;
i listened and understood
i have seen men beating
their heads against walls
until they bled out into the
streets,
i have seen how little
communication exists between
people,
i have heard how much
you have to say–
i have listened when i could,
i am afraid i have not understood
much;
i am also afraid that there is not
much to understand
i cannot tell you how life is
across the universe
but i can hazard a guess that
will come very close
i can still not understand people,
i cannot believe;
which is why i cannot understand
you,
or much of what you say,
however loud you say it
i can never let the ink dry
before i throw away today’s
draft,
because i wake up with the sun
and see it erase the meaning
of all that i had imagined that
very day with it’s waning
over the horizon like white-out
over a dissertation written by
humanity,
who, collectively, is unsure
when exactly the paper is due.
Hemorrhage
September 15, 2009
The wound cuts deeply
But you designed it that way.
Tear off the tourniquet.
Do not let the blood coagulate.
Do not let my heart harden.
Allow me to release all of myself
So that you fill me instead.
Allow me to let go.
To let your spirit live within.
a little about you – with some help from a old family friend we called websters but whose real name also included a merriam
July 27, 2009
you are exalted or worthy of complete
devotion as one perfect in goodness and righteousness
of, relating to, or proceeding directly from God
you are having great power, prestige, or influence
you are great in deed or exalted in place
you are marked by stately grandeur and lavishness
and exceptionally superior in kind, quality, or appearance
Don’t Pretend
June 28, 2009
I 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
it’s complicated
March 18, 2009
i know your love
should be the only thing
that matters but
how can i truly KNOW that
when i’ve heard of nothing
in this entire universe
dependent upon a solitary necessity?
even a flower needs
sundry more than the sun’s rays
like chlorophyll and shit
when the fairy dust has settled
January 21, 2009
i marked the
inauguration with
feelings of trepidation
let’s remember that
“change” is not a magic
word made of sparkles
and dust, rather one
spelled with sleepless
nights, burning words,
and blood
let’s remember that
the “Dream” is not
a finish line to be
crossed, rather a reality
we must construct
first in our minds and in
our lives
and let’s remember that
our leaders cannot be God
sweeping down from the clouds
(or the White House) to pluck
you from your own troubles.
The Bus
November 17, 2008
Don’t look my way
It’s too early in the day,
Your soul is not tucked in yet.
Romeo coughs at the back of the bus
Here comes tuberculosis.
An old Juliet shouts repeatedly to herself
“Shut up! Yes God I know. I know. Shut up!”
Dorian, the unaltered beauty, sneers
Give the lepers their bells back
So they can sing their melody again:
“Unclean, unclean, unclean…”
Jane scratches her invisibility cloak
blood under her fingernail is the same
ghastly red as the “Stop requested” sign.
The metallic box spits two people out
While Tarzan bites his nails thinking
“I hate my mother. Does it me make evil?”
Inside the bus, one happy thought lingers,
“At least I’m not suicidal…”
And outside, it’s better to hate God than your mother
Otherwise, you better have tales that would make God vomit
and reconsider his creation.
The Odyssey For My Self
October 22, 2008
How I try to perceive you
How deep down must I look
How long must I search for you
How treacherous are the waters that I must cross
*
How many calls must I make
Of joy and love
Of sadness and fear
Before you hearken to my words
*
How may I examine myself
Without an inner eye through which to look
How many errors must be made
Before one can tear down their guise
*
How many breaths of air will I take
Before I breathe in you
How many mornings shall I awake
Before I know the name of you
*
What is a heart without a voice
What is a mind without a soul
What is a body without an essence
What is a man without a goal
*
How much pain must I suffer
Of myself and this earthly plane
How much fear must I survive
Before the judgment of our name
*
How many triumphs must I take
And walk away with tears for the defeated
How many defeats must I claim as my own
And still gait away with dignity
*
You are the essence of my being
You are the thought that makes me real
You are the desires of the heart
You are the ghost within my shell
tanka
October 19, 2008
putting on my shirt
the scent of last night lingers
smoke from the fire pit
around which we all gathered
revealing our thoughts and lives.
Love Letter
July 6, 2008
I love you-Goodbye.
I’ll always remember you-inside.
Of Mind, Body, and Soul-like the rest,
Mind and Soul I’ll remember-of you the best.
I’ll always know you were the love of my life
Through the sickness, the pain, and all the strife.
Saying goodbye was the hardest thing I hope to ever do,
I could only wish that it wasn’t to you.
For you raised me lovestrong.
Now I wish I could say-God’s will is wrong,
But faith in HIS plan is right,
Whether you do or don’t-survive the night
Mother, I love you-Goodbye
rcribay
joshuagrace
freakynewchild
Tucker J. Collins
saxsquatch
David X. Hugo
larsalexander
tynedaile
