Posts tagged ‘alive’

August 10, 2015

untitled 10/08

The sound of white fan blades, nimble cat’s feet,
and heavy outside traffic
woke with the beeping alarm.

Monday life was on its way,
just before breakfast, shower and shave.

Pieces of inspiration fell off in stretches
and movements onto the wooden floor.

As a backdoor opened to musty wet rugs
and well watered plants,
at a place where occupants had been days away.

Coming to again as rebirth:
a second, a minute, a day, a week, a moment chance;
where we’d thought we’d be now is the past.

We were housed by such movements
of certain contraptions, waking, stirring, just as—
sounds and actions unplanned,

came over and overlapped.

March 11, 2014

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead Dead

Full shoes rock smuggler

In the basement before dirt

Hopscotch walk muddler

Parted smirk with mirth


In a place with no character

We (they) find a shiny coin


Rosencrantz and Guildenstern

Are insignificant to a point


No spokes in the wheel; full circle

Disdain, now, no wound to ‘oint


The Players show empathy to Ros and Guil, no disjoint ;

they are also at the mercy of the elements i.e. Hamlet

They desperately avoid blunder and blood red moist

However they can’t undo fate with any willed choice


Lifestyle of livelihood

Real-life social effect

In that case I’m dead

Fractionally:  Yes


They’ve been gone this whole time

stuck with inquistion in purgatory

They relive this act on track

This fact amends the story


We see it in un-, sub-, and supernatural forces:

They are caught in between.






And so on…

October 31, 2012

Wake Up Downtown

Waking up to a situation with you.


Blond hair and ruffled blankets; sitting up naked.

Nothing new, same deal, same issues.

Remaining relatively true.


Things aren’t as bad as they seem.

This is true, true.

I don’t know about you.


Socks, shoes, contacts stick to blue eyes like glue.

Hello to the mirror on the wall, trying to see things clear.

Asking who is the fairest of them all?


I see me.


Counting, looking around to see this fantasy bathroom stall.

Then I leave, then I disappear with much sound.


Sun light, so bright.


Getting up, not my bed.

Just another night.


Getting up, she turns her head.

She says.

Wish we could be here all day.


I say,

I say.




Yeah, only in dreams.



Then I found myself on my way.

I found what the weather patterns mean.


On my bike, looking left, looking right.

Cars, gas, fumes, liability, citations, cash, and frustration.

What a sad sight.


Drivers waiting patient, like a logical fallacy.


To 3rd, to Central, to parking lot and sidewalk, to Nicollet, these are places where I will never get lost.  Downtown habit is a chronic pathway to the day, individuals traveling in every which way.  From the Stonearch Bridge to the Grain Belt sign Minneapolis is on the mind.  The weather is chilled, same as the attitudes.  People standing in line to have a good time, most never move on.  Who is wasting time?

I coast and back pedal only in travel…


Getting up, haven’t slept like this since birth, since last month.

Getting up and outside to see what its worth, to open my eyes.

Gift or curse I’ll figure it when it arrives.


I thought this as I waved goodbye.


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