poetry

alone on benches waiting for trains

poetry

sit many,

silent spread out and waiting

to be taken the same place but not together.

hoping their train will soon arrive.

 

as children they’d sat near to mother afraid and close

holding her hand, small and wondering

not knowing where they were going.

some things never change

 

now, not brave, but bigger at least and used to being alone

or maybe just resigned.

hoping their train will soon arrive to take them away

 

on the train now, they all sit apart together, looking away

out the window, avoiding eye contact with all the other someones

outside a sign:

“Use caution when exiting the train.”

and then: 

“Please be mindful of children.  Please take them by the hand.”

Sound advice

as if hearing the pleas of the silent passing eyes.

switch

poetry

imagine a switch that you could
flip to turn day into
night—
shutting the sun off like
a halogen lamp dissipating blue to
black revealing blinking
stars and emptying streets of
people and cars

gone, will be all signs of life
(or at least, into hiding:

beneath rooftops and cotton
Sheets—where i’d really rather
be
with you)

at the flip
of a switch.

things that made us famous, but you’re still nobody

poetry

all too many people
shy away from the topic of poo
out of fear of offending
their mothers reading
their works when they finally
publish their own book
someday

the sieve can address it all
from rape to cannibalism
when we want to say pants
we say trousers

if i say trunk, i mean both
the ass of the car
and a garment to cover your ass
whilst you swim

i have boldly gone where you
have not
the deep has never challenged me

hover, and hold
squatting will keep you from having
to squeeze

but dont fall in
or you’ll become famous
you nobody.

Epiphany

poetry

Today,
beauty cut through me
awe came a bleedin
stardust slipped from my eyes
dark-hued clouds dissipated
At last!

Hope, grace, peace
move closer
warm my skin

Life spent in the LostAndFound
left a pain-print on my soul.
Drunk from the unhappiness,
I threw the innocence away.

Oh joy come nearer
I’ll hold and cherish thee!

ignorance is bliss

poetry

i work with this girl who is always

working hard

sometimes all night long, often on the weekends.

she drinks lots of coffee and laughs loud and desperately

but i think she is happy in her small way

tonight her friend asked her to hang out

she said yes, until she remembered

the “optional” work meeting she had agreed to attend.

sorry friend.

 

but i think it’s better for her that way.

i’d hate for her to find out how much of life she misses every day.

 

Over-inflating my ego (when no one else does)

poetry

I sit here, planning out my students’
future for the next 6 weeks;
it’s strange to exercise this power
over what fifty people will be
reading, thinking, and doing;
power to mark and label each person as
failures, slackers, average, good, or excellent;
power to influence what opportunities will be open
to each of my students for their futures;
I am not only the master of their future
for the next six weeks, but I am the master
of their futures for the rest of their lives,
in which every moment will be influenced
by what I do in the next six weeks.
Do I feel exhilerated or scared by this?
Mostly just unprepared.