Saturday, April 22, 2017

Your Eye


When

Something’s in your eye

You want nothing more

Than to pluck it out

And

Yes

To pluck out debris

From one’s eye

Can be

Quite painful

To dig into one’s self

Can be unbearable

But in order to move forward

We must pluck out the painful

And

Fill our souls with hope

That the pain never returns

Pull the knives

From

Your back

Or

There’s no use

In moving on at all!

It’s these hard learned lessons

In life

That shape us

And

At the same time

Show us who we really are

As people

So

Remember

To forgive is powerful

To not remember

The reasons why

You had to forgive

Is foolish

So continue on

With open eyes

And

See all that’s before you

Not

Just what’s presented



Wednesday, April 19, 2017

Tornadoes


To live through

A tornado

Is a terrifying thing

Indeed!

Over the years

I was told tornados sound

Like a freight train

Rolling down the tracks

Straight for you!

So

When I realized

What was coming for

My family and I

It made it

That much more

Terrifying

Than anything

I could have ever imagined!

For

The hand of death was close

And

Only moving closer

A violent deafening mown

With

An underlying sound

Of

Trees snapping

Power lines

Whipping wildly in the wind

Rain and darkness

A blinding wall of power

Inching closer

And

Closer

But

What I remember most

From that time

So long ago

Was holding

My child in my arm

My wife by the hand

And fleeing

Into the howling shadows

Of the night

Then

The next morning

Pumping gas barefoot

No shirt

40 degrees

In the drizzling rain

But

Being thankful

We all were alive!


From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave



Friday, April 7, 2017

Monarch Butterfly


Monarch Butterfly

Maiden of beauty

Queen of flight

Your wings are

The color

Of

Tangerines

Dressed with spotted

Black dots

That smear together

As one

When you fly and flutter

About!

You seem like you

Maybe floating on

Something beautiful

Like the music of

Melody Gardot

Or possibly

Madeleine Peyroux?

Someone’s amazing music

Has to be lifting

Your wings upwards?

Floating on notes

And

Melodies

You have to be!

Your journey

To me

From

Across the sea

Is

One I hold dear

When I gaze upon you

Saying hello

Here and there

There and here

Throughout my day

Moving about

In my world

Braking the sunlight

Into

Segments of flashes

Like the end of a movie

On an old-style projector

When you and your kind

Swarm the sky above me

Oh

What a sight to see!


From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave

Monday, April 3, 2017

The Man Without A Nose


A man

Came into work

The other day

Who had

No Nose

Just a big gaping hole

Where it once was!

It was hollow

To look into

Empty to gaze upon

A moon crater

A Grand Canyon

Scaled down to size   

My coworker

Was totally freaked out

By the sight of this

The man told us

He had cancer

And

The doctors had

Cut away half his face

A facelift

Of

Lifesaving slices!

He said  

He now

Was going through

Radiation treatments

Chemotherapy

The thought

Came to me

As it does every time

I run across

Yet

Another example

Of

Modern medicine

Who needs horror stories

When we have examples

Of

Saving lives like this?

Doctors keeping people alive

With half of their face

Missing

Is not some amazing feat!

What’s amazing

Is the folks that have

Not had their bodies

Cut on

And

Are not taking

Radiation baths

Believing somehow

The ones who are

Are better off than

Surrendering to death!

Yes

Cancer is the gnashing teeth

Of

Humanity

Yet

People tremble

At the thought of death!

With all of the steadfast beliefs

Of

Better tomorrows

On the other side

Or

Coming back

As something else

To live again

People are still willing to boil

Themselves down

With nuclear exposure

To not go on

To the next world!

Reality is strange

Sometimes

And

Is bursting at the seams

With an undeniable truth 

When self-preservation

Is involved



Saturday, April 1, 2017

Mugshots


On My Watch


What is truly important

In this life?

We all

Should ask ourselves

This question

Each day

Yet

It seems for most of us

This question

Is seldom asked

And

Sometimes

Not asked at all!

For all of us

Our moments

Our opportunities

To do

What we really want

To do

Be who we really want

To be

Are running out!

Yes

Time ticks fast

Weather you waste it

Or

Not!

I see it

Day after day

In the faces

Of

People I encounter

Who have grown old

And

Impatient!

They become

Angry at the casher

Because they had to

Wait two minutes longer

Than they believed

They needed to!

I can only think

By

Their behavior

They know

The end is near

And

They have most likely

Wasted their time

In this world!

They have not done

The things they really

Wanted to do

In this life!

They have not taken

A chance on a dream!

At some point

They should have asked

Themselves

What was truly important

To them?

I see it in the rich too

All the money in the world

And

Never truly happy!

Money means little

In the end!

I’ve done

Countless labor jobs

The owners come out

To inspect the progress

It’s almost

Always the same

Wedding rings

Turned upside-down

On their finger

Afraid to showoff

Their sparkling diamond

To

The dirty laborer

Me!

I can only think

All that wealth

Has done nothing

But

Buy you fear of your

Fellow human being!

They want so badly

To be remembered as a pillar

In the community

Not realizing they are

Remembered more

By the people

They walked on

To become wealthy

The people that sold

Their best years to them

For minimum wage

Used up their bodies

To put food on

Their family’s table

All while the Pharaoh

Counts his gold!






Wednesday, March 29, 2017

Doorways


Think

How many doorways

We pass through

In a lifetime?

Some

We casually stroll

Through

Some

We race through

Because we’re running late

For work

Or

Some place 

We just have to be

To make this person

Or that person

Happy we attended

Their day of needing

Humans around them!

Yes

These doorways we deem

All so important!

We rush and go

To the trouble of always

Being on time  

But

There are some folks

Who would trade anything

For the troubles

We walk through each day

For theirs

Without hesitation! 

For

Their doorways lead in

And

Out

Of

Hell!

For the abused

The torn down

The unwanted  

Doorways

That take unbelievable courage

To walk out of

And

Never return!

Like the home

Of

The battered wife

Her eye swollen shut

Her lip split

Scarlett drops of blood

Running down her chin

Baby on her hip

Scared out of her mind

That he will wakeup

Before she makes it out

Makes it to her car

Turns the ignition

Lights off

Creeping down

The driveway

Then down the road

And

Away from

The nightmare marriage

She had grown

To call normal!

So

The next time

You’re rushing out the door

Stop and think

What doorways

Some folks

Have had to go through

And

Your worries 

Won’t seem so significant

Your time so pressing

Your life so awful





Saturday, March 11, 2017

Serpent Of Taillights


The line of traffic

This morning

Looks like

A serpent of taillights

Flowing like a Boa

On the shoulders

Of

Candy Darling

Or

A mink

Wrapped around Vivien Leigh 

Winding and twisting

Its way toward

Yet

Another day!

Some days are better

Than others

And

Some days

By all means

Are worse!

Yesterday was a day

I caught up on sleep

As a writer

A poet

You need these days

You have to step

Into dreamland

And

If only for a moment

Not hear the sink dripping

The phone ringing

The door knocking

No TV

No one walking past your home

Talking on their phone

You see

The writer takes it all in

Whether or not

They want to

We can’t just turn that shit off

Block it out

We hear

We see

We absorb

The world around us

And

It’s exhausting

At times

But

It’s who we are!

So

Sleep becomes

Our best friend

Waiting to walk

Hand in hand

Into the darkness

Resetting our thoughts

So we can awake

And

Write once more!





Friday, March 10, 2017

The Melvins And The Van


In 1989

A friend and I

Went to see

The Melvins

Play in Gainesville FL

At

The Hardback Café

The underground was alive

And

Well

That night

Breathing in

And

Sweating out artistic energy!

A moving motion of music lovers

Mingled among

Moshers and Metalheads!  

A strong sense of community

Was in the air

Waves of sound

Washed over us

I could feel the music

Alive

Inside my chest

As the band played

It felt like

My lungs

Had filled with

Notes and tones

From the guitar

From the pounding drums

From voices singing

Into microphones

All of it

Was rattling within my ribcage

Like a canary

Trapped by a grinning housecat

Pawing its cage

Back and forth

Back and forth

Or maybe

Hunter S. Thompson’s beloved bird

Edward

Flapping around frantically

While Hunter banged

On the outside of his

Wired framed home!

Either way

The sound was shaking

My insides!

After the show

We made our way outside

Onto the brick street

In front of the bar

Leaning against

The Melvins

Tour Van

My friend and I made small talk

Small talk was made between us

Within a few minutes 

I started to notice

A Kiss Mural drawn on the side

Of

The van

Four painted faces

Of

Rock and roll royalty

I thought to myself

Whoever drew this

Understands

The art of the underground

Years latter

I read Kurt Cobain

Did the drawing

Yes

Kurt had a good grasp

On

The art of the underground

And

His art

Brought the mainstream

Rushing towards it!




From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave