Archive for ‘La Crosse’

September 9, 2014

Fall 2014

Fall comes just as our sneakers have worn in
Our bike seats touch familiar under buttocks
Dying grass and flowers thin; bend in the wind,
Tree’s leaves affect intensely displayed colors.
Pools close and drain, with new frost to blame.
Mothers count their wandering curious young.
A yellowing sun grows faint, shadowing its loss.
Fathers light expensive brown cigars for fun.
Dogs and cats play-excited, loud and rowdy,
Leaves and debris blow thru them in the yard.
Cold holidays come nearer, passing yet again,
Each year grows tired, cold, aloof, and hard.
On destiny we wait; fleeting speed of time,
Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter yet again align.

August 21, 2014

There was a flood about us

Lightening danced across the sky in clouded seclusion; a million flash bulbs illuminated, ten thousand bowling ball strikes.

Cut uneven as broken glass still stuck together.
Gods must be gaming.
Cats run and hide.

Every silence a moment lapsed in hesitation for coming sound.
Alarm bells clamored loud, infrequently ringing.
This may pass before the commute.

Awoken by raindrop’s tapping,
as events plagued
pale-blue morning light
set in ruin.

There was a flood about us,
contrasted by the altitude.

August 19, 2014

St. Paul in the Fall

St. Paul in the fall,

whilst leaves change and thin.

 

Whilst festivities and fairs

under tents, bearing food, creep in.

 

Whilst trees bend

with robust forceful wind.

 

A time to reflect the mess we’re within;

past and coming years, one which end and begin.

 

Peers and loved ones we’ve lost,

at grand experience’ cost. 

 

Standing growing moving,

shedding one layer at a time

 

A tan peals and pales,

A secret is revealed.

 

Skin and bone become frail,

light years fast pass the snail. 

 

A north shore lake-effect patience,

Months under sun we’ve waited.

 

Suffering rain snow and gale,

Minnesota weather: what it entails. 

 

In and amongst everything;

though a singular unit, alone as one.

 

Walking fresh cold press coffee in hand,

scanning distant verdant lands.

 

On this walk towards autumn- new times and old friends,

alternatives we enact; to the ever changing plans.

 

Remember the voices we will never hear again.

Remember the times with loved ones we spend.

 

Perplexed by this simple yet inspiring life,

St. Paul in the fall feels cool, close, fast approaching, and right. 

August 9, 2014

Love the way it is

Everything I need is right beside me:
Life
Passion
Mindset-

Honest intuition and heavy thought.

The ability to make others laugh and reflect on that;
the love
the will
the equanimity;

Without those things there is nothing.

-We may be lost…

Are you digging a hole just to take you down a notch?
-Rather, one must bring a ladder.

Nothing is really that bad
there is no reason to cry,
-not to say it couldn’t be better-
you could make it a try.

Love the way it is.

August 7, 2014

downtown La Crosse, circa 2006.

Buying the Tribune
in the morning
in downtown La Crosse,
velvet touch-

A Coffee,
walk the redbrick sidewalk.

Past the Bodega,
and Chairs,
and last night’s Cigarette Butts,

washing dishes in the back of some restaurant.

Faux-Progressive airs;
Talking a lot, stale-
actions and words; NOTICE: they talk a lot.

Burnt-Out Transcendentalists,
watching drunks, and pre-cancer patients and cars being parked—

Save the day.

Wearing shorts under blue skies.

Call clandestine spies, looking up at the corner apartment window-
wondering what’s inside__
… As she wakes,

long legs lie.

Moving, thinking, that fresh brewery smell, now new adult.

In summer heat- beating down,
The Mississippi River on the breeze—cesspool,

I walked back from where I had come
trying to not feel so numb.

Because I had to walk back.

August 4, 2014

Fond Memories

Stand in a pale room funeral home.
Dim yellow dances striped walls.
Close fake ferns and fresh-cut flowers.
Not into gleamed opaque casket.
My father sits, near his stepfather lay.
A soda can rests on stained wooden edge.
Here bright reflections of unnatural dye.
We have to pick him up, so heavy- and out.
Grab hand on cold pallbearer’s hold.
Navy Cadillac hearse backs to still box.
Pull with strained arms, struggle to balance.
Measure more densely than expected, hot day.
Hung-over and dried out, stiff- filled chemicals.
We get in the van and head to the American Legion.

Disbelief.

Family and a buffet line inside
We sit close and speak soft
A pastor comes up to talk
He says he is with god
I go and get seconds
Completely lost

My grandmother does not understand.

August 3, 2014

Morning Read

First thoughts of morning,
poor vision blues in a book.

Hung on each dark word as the guilty-
grabbing tired mind as it takes me inside.
Scanning each sentence, detecting its mention;
importance of just this, and just that,

-at that,
I put my head back
on a pillow,

Thoughts of last night stir as my belly aches.
Reading inspired relaxation as I ready the day.

July 31, 2014

Days between Books

Time is of the essence
We have now and others don’t
The mail comes in
Heavy, in boxes
Full of books
People count on efficiency
Moments matter
This is now
Time never ends, but when it does
Patrons to service
Phone calls to make
Papers to print
The life, the day, the dollar, the request
Another recall
Another beep
Another list
Projects and process
Building this knowledge
No one regrets
Nothing to fret
Days and what we do
Define me and you
The only proof lies in a check
Electronic deposit, hardly noticed notion
Who does anyway?
This is incredibly easy to forget.

July 29, 2014

Born Again ________.

Decrepit church, ruinous cemetery lay falling round back. South Ridge, Methodist, where we used to hunt for truth, speeches of the rock, power, and how it stands- magician slight of hand. Find your rock. Abracadabra.

Weed and trees—green, shade the worn markers for comfort, rough sandstone run smooth. Grass is tended monthly- assumptions, assume.

Parishioners the few, the lot, opening doors once weekly searching for healing light, they hang on rusty hinges, comfort from solitude, a peaceful mind; AA for the lonely, hope for those who don’t put faith into science, logic, rationality… I digress, proper community of another name; a normal life, sans convent.

Half full the gold offering plate, dirty money within, spins from hand to hand, spoils of the land.

Lost place on a lost hill- so many lost souls, lost confessions spilt.

Daybreak is comfort, night warrants for want; words, movement, in the vast stillness of the Minnesotan plain. Silence falls hard as pots do from top cupboards, and down. Crash of landing draws attention, the vibrations hangs in the air for years to come. No one loses grasp of that time- never, timeless, priceless, event. Dropping flowers, tears, exhausted.

This church stands as the bow, at attention, an ancient pale white. Stern amassing casualties of life, flesh wrapped- longevity lapsed, they lacked the fight. Laying in peace, producing nothing new, save for dust when the wind blows or stirs, these vacant memories of others.

July 28, 2014

peaceful reside

Darkened room
beyond a standing open door.
Fan blows low,
violins cry; moaning- in the air.

Cat bounds, jumps,
across a dusted floor.

This motionless single-bedroom apartment, still, as mind dances the Tango.

Loved ones, phone.

She moves,
rolling in the lamplight
covered in white-cloud blankets
warm in her spot.

The bed holds like a trusted hand.

Lie processing,
words,
empty,
quiet,
awake alone,

shadows paint the walls and ceiling.

Torso imprints a time, right there.

Peaceful reside,
past moments in my mind.

-Goodnight.

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