Over a road and across a plain,

I ran in silence, except the rain.

I gathered wits at enemy lines.

Through a bush & through some vines.

***

I rolled across an open point of vision,

Up a trail, my skin gained a small incision.

Back through the cover of some brush,

Crawling forward, I told myself “Hush, hush, hush”.

***

On I moved until I felt a sensation.

A series of stings made from Nature’s Creation.

Hidden well with a fine disguise,

A mass of nettles caught me, but I gave no cries.

***

Continually biting, they burned my skin.

Made of steel, unlike their wooden kin.

Finally Nature’s Trap released me to pass,

Upon which, I moved out onto the cool grass

Forever

Lost in a Sea of Opportunity

Until

Changes in

Time allows for an

Ultimate recession

All

Things

Intense and lax but,

Not similar in

Girth.

Choices

However big or small,

Old or young,

Inversely shall pass through a

Cycle,

Even if

Sentimentality should hinder them.

I like to pretend that I’m upset to hide the fact that I don’t care.
I simulate fits of rage and bite people on the cheek to protest against
the dwindling state of the world. I cry wolf whenever I see a TV ad, and
wear aluminum foil on my head for protection.
They human gods who pursue to change people’s destinies
will not reach into my mind mess with their colorful, sellable verbose.
But I feel a tidal force crushing and rushing me at the bottom of this
increasingly aseptic world machine.
I cannot move with the flow,
the fickle crowd in a fleeting delirium seek easy lynches and moral short cuts
and then proceed to build new schools.
It is self preserving sanity not to care and long only for the ocean.

alas all
everyone ever
intends is
often overly
understated until
you yell

Waking up freezing

With full knowledge that later

Will be sizzling.

sweat

blood

cement

mud

 

coated with a day’s labor

            building a deck for my Nanny

i know that my hands

            are

            clean

i shunned the pride they felt
when first seeing their name in print
the black and white word
bound by binding
seemed so trite
no different from electronic word

i was wrong.
i admit it.
the black and white word
so much more beautiful
i’m almost disgusted

the awesomeness
while not perfect
is perfection in essence
perfection in beauty
and perfection in binding

the black and white word
smells like glue from binding
a new book.

tear.
she’s beautiful.
i look good.
real good.

p.s. so do ya’ll

I love things that can be bought with change
gas station drinks being included within that range,
which though they may not taste right or be very good for you
there isn’t very much that you can do
because for something costing less than a dollar,
you’ll just about always drink it without making much of a holler.

I thought I wanted this;
I have been working toward this;
but now I stand on the cusp
of finally starting a “real” job,
and all I feel is ambivalence and fear
seeing the future stretching
indefintely out before me
into the obscured distance.
Mixed with the uncertainty
is excitement as to what might happen,
but along with the excitement
is the knowledge that
I may not like the future and that
the only constant is death.
And so from this cusp,
my only responce is paralysis,
in the contemplation of
the unknown preceding death.

Now her feet are green

From all the running around

Without wearing shoes

.

I’d wash those feet off

But won’t wipe away her smile

If I can help it.

life was simpler then
more innocent than most ladybugs
almost as cute

i bought cereal because the box was interesting
picked ice-cream for color, not flavor
chased girls but genuinely feared catching them

life was easier then
and nights were longer

ah. to be again
21

I.
he won’t agree
he may even complain
but we all know
the truth speaks
for itself.

II.
as our wives looked on
disapprovingly, we waged
battle in the only way
available to civilized man.

we can hold hands and try not to stumble
against the strong wind
we might hang onto electric poles
and dream a light beyond our lips and fingertips
but the sunset approaches, and
we cannot not last in the dark.
Daylight is all we have,
my jacket and your heart are full of holes
our coins can afford us a one way bus trip to
the flat city where the future calls.
my darling one, how many more shades of pain
must we wear before allowing ourselves to drift away
from one another and shrivel in secret?

a decade ago friend
departs leaving
my soul
heavy and sad
in the wake of this
parking space.

notes passed in class
of a non offensive nature

staring around waiting
hoping
i will see you again…
till then (!)

something, someone, tells me
hoping is not in vain
everyone gives up on
rejection. feelings of
lost
ones. but i
cannot give up on 100 pounds of puppy
kome home. soon. please. – you need a shower

Never a dull moment in my life

Shielding my eyes from dust storms

Watching the stock cars spin out

Hoping they won’t crash and burn.

Never a dull moment in my life

Off the highway we drove home

At least until we ran out of gasoline

And pushed our car all the way home

morning times filled with hope
like a balloon filled with water
made to be thrown
and popped
and ruin someone else’s day

lucky for me i throw
like a girl

jogging wheezing
beneath these green trees–
trash in every yard.

I need another version of the “live life to the fullest” phrase ,
I need it now, a quick word injection thundering through my vein
and spiraling me away from right now where full isn’t what is cracked up to be,
and fullest is a sharply pricking thorn.