someday soon

poetry

i met a girl in my dreams who whispered
in my ear as the wind picked up and
weaved and flowed beneath my hands
clung tight to the grips i’ve been holding
to keep me from falling off this cliff
and loosened it enough as a final re
minder that yes, indeed,
the time has come. do you want to
know what she said though? she said
“nín hǎo” and she was like
breathing on a window and drawing
a heart and seeing it there when
you wash your car. i swear, too,
that i saw her one day and i
feared i might lose my job
or my pride or my kids or
my wife or my mortage or
my bed or my blankets or
my sedentary life-style if i
went up to her and said “hi.”
so i didn’t,
but i will.

the complexity of infinity found by the ceasless mind

poetry

life is an ouroboros
or: ouroouroouroorououro
ouroouroouroouroouro
ouroouroouroouroborus etc.
why? well,
love is blind! things of
that nature, like,
christian capitalists…
like, freedom.
like, how…youth is wasted
on us poor folk. spent endlessly
drudging through homework and
work at the minimum wage legally
allowed to pay a human being
and spent not experiencing
anything, unless, of course
you are a hippy,
drug-addict,
good-for-nothing,
hobo. of course.
in america, freedom is most
surely dead.
for if i were to sit in one
spot i would be sued or
some such legal rigmarole,
though, that is all i really
wanna do (to sit in one spot,
not to get sued).

Lavender

poetry

Dawn unzippers the veil of night
Unsheathing the cowl of lambent sun
Tendrils of radiance coil into view
Swelling over the desolate remains
To go before the feet led by light
To voices that exclaim their presence
And a response is proclaimed
The unfurling daybreak directs as a hand
Miasma and hesitation disperse
Though scorched and dispirited
Respite and amelioration surge
From the everlasting tributaries
And amid breaches of devastation
Stems twirl arduously toward renewal
Bringing abundant healing in all homelands
Enveloping to embrace the whole earth

You Don’t Lie Unless You Have Something To Hide

poetry

I’ll never know her name
You’ll never tell me.
She’ll keep taunting me anonymously
Otherwise I would have a name to my hate.
Holding on to one last piece
And you want me to forgive you?
Let go then,
Stop protecting your sin.
What did you think would happen
When you drove a stake of betrayal
Into the heart of your family’s foundation?
Did you think we would welcome you back
With an open armed embrace?
Saying, ‘it’s okay, everyone’s fallible?’
How couldn’t you see the line
When you crossed it?
Don’t enter here
Believing you have a home anymore.
You and your guilt will sleep on the couch.

on hemorrhaging brilliance daily

poetry

its true and you know it
humility would be a lie
our words bring you inspiration
to your knees you fall and beg
for more turning page after
page hoping for another letter
written as well as the last and
shocked you notice the hours
have passed and you’re not
writing that book they’re paying you
for instead you’re stuck in the sieve
in awe as each grain of sand
glides on through and you’re jealous
to be humble would be to lie
your hands aren’t here bringing
verse to those in need instead you’ve
dedicated yourself to money instead
of daily brilliance

(wish we had both sometimes)

but even though the bastards never
notice and i can call them that because
this isn’t some creating writing department
of a larger institution that’s going to reject
my request for the major simply because
i curse them out in four short poems
boasting of my invincible awesomeness
no this is our territory and if you don’t want
in then get the crap out because these
words aren’t for the faint of heart
they’re here to remind you that it is us
who paid the nearly ten dollars to own
this piece of web real estate and we’ll
write on it exactly what we mean
mistakes in all just to stick it you
(the man)

and one day when one of the twelve
of us however many there are actually
makes it somewhere big in this world
well he’ll look back and say it was there
and hopefully he’ll buy me lunch

i’d really love it if someone bought me lunch

The Suggester

poetry

It’s no problem.
I realize you don’t have the guts.
Good for you.
Integrity is a virtue, right?
Right?
But then again—
Imagine the possibilities.
That would be awfully amusing.
And after all, who would know?
Yeah, it’ll be fine.
Go for it.
They won’t even notice.
It wouldn’t matter if they did.
Don’t be a coward.
You’re not a coward are you?
C’mon, do it.
You deserve this.

Suggestions like straws are dropped.
I listen and you break my back.

Wait, What? Why?

poetry

You’re leaving.
And standing in the threshold
Of the open doorway
Unraveling your umbrella
You enter into the rain.

I cannot follow
And nothing I can say
Will halt the deluge
Will seal the door
Will convince you to stay.

The door squeals on its hinges
Heels click on the pavement
Curtains of rain close behind you
And I’m left behind
With no further explanation.

Speed-trapped

poetry

When you’re used to breaking the
sound barrier, 165 miles per hour is
a safe and prudent speed.
So, despite the wing mirrors folding
and the windows shaking in their frames,
with four hot wheels balanced on the
rainslick pavement on the highway,
everything seems like it’s going to be
alright. And even if everything goes
terribly wrong, it won’t be that way
for very long.

its like

poetry

writing crap and
getting kudos
spur of the moment
inspiration-free words
inspiring others
and then

hours and hours
broken hearts and tears
poured into a single story
five pages of your one true
opus
and hearing
23 “i dont get it”s
and only 1
“holy crap this was the most
brilliant thing i’ve ever read”

which would have been enough
if you had been an editor
instead of a mere classmate