Posts tagged ‘American Poetry’

December 13, 2014

On the Corner of Washington and Oak St. SE (Finals Week)

Where snowmelt and papers
Coalesce in the street,
Tense busy-minded scholars
Move fast on their feet.

December 5, 2014

They were not like I.

Once when I was in community college
I took a class called “Eco-Feminism”.

I was one of four guys.

I was not a majority by numbers,
That is a fact, no lie.

Each day our teacher spoke of monsters,
She said they used and abused women and the land;
They would take take take take take take take take,
To attain everything the women and the land had.

These monsters never slept,
They were pale,
They were exacting,
They were mean.

They lived in mansions at the top of the world fixed with panoptic eyes.
She said these monsters were real, they were white, European, and sly.

I never resented a day in that class,
But sometimes I felt singled-out, and tried.
I learned how to label people right,
Though those people resembled me physically-

They were not like I.

December 4, 2014

Finals in a Boat

Thick are these academic papers;
We cling to as long proved assets.
Fingers flip thru dull page after page,
Proving proclaimed righteous passage.

Moving red eyes scan this distant mote,
To grasp sought after effective note.
Hoping, praying, and prying we go,
Aspire this traveled boat always floats.

Thru vast opaque waters of fluid mind,
Much is the lacking of present time.
Having been assailed, to keep us entwined,
Confined we fret, towing endless line.

To calmer seas onward we press,
Trying challenges bested, nobly met.
To succeed; to degrees; to just pay rent-
Precious hours of our lives lost or lent.

To dock that long off nigh forgotten vessel,
To pin to chest the highest rank of glint medal.

***
See what I’ve caught? It’s called a label.

November 28, 2014

Every Story has a Companion

It’s really easy
To look at one side of a story,
And to be affected
By just that one side.

But what I’ve found throughout the years,
Hours of thought,
Hard-work,
And beers-

Is that more often than not, that one side of the story is not alone.

Words and interpretation are never the exact
Same,
Objective,
Way.

Except for apparently in America,
In August, last week, right now, and today.

November 16, 2014

Snowscape

This Snowscape so quiet;

Not a bird,
Not a car,
Not a sound…

Whiteness covers the world,
Layering atop the frozen ground.

November 12, 2014

Connect to St. Paul

Follow steam as it floats
On our daily commute,
Orange eastern horizon,
Thoughts of warm soup.

Eyes locked on the bus
Swaying back and forth,
Come along on this ride,
Again, feeling so north.

Travelling tainted ways,
Thinking of pins and pine,
Bundled people walking-
Beyond the glass, outside.

Seasons to be discussed,
Roads to pass as we go,
Men in boots and gloves
Shovel hard at the snow.

Now these sitters travel
Careful as what to pack,
Each to make way here,
In hopes to make it back.

What more could we ask?
What more could we ask?

November 5, 2014

Patchwork Thing

Broken parts
Accumulate the me
I am;

Pieced together
What it seems
On a whim-
Head, abdomen, and limbs.

Padding down ends of Scotch tape
In hopes that it holds.

So many holes,
Can you see my soul?
Dismembered me standing in place,
Am I exposed?

Crease the folds.

Broken eggs can relate.
Falling apart to date.

Life as this quilt stuck together.
Indifferent and varied, as the weather.

November 2, 2014

* I DO DECLARE

Wear make-up and carry mace;
-Mixed ideology, mixed taste.
Running all over this place,
Collecting strewn waste.

Prey within the Rat Race.
Prey within the Rat Race.

*
I saw you sitting there,
I do declare.

October 31, 2014

Small Parts of Us

Balled tissue found in my pocket,
Crumpled, asymmetrical too,
Holding browned stained spatter,
Amongst dried tears of proof.

Discovered in seldom worn jacket,
Once you were tucked deep inside;
Producing contents as pure magic,
Tiny parts in my mind come alive.

Last I wore you to a wedding,
Then we heard passing bad news.
I was standing dressed in all black,
Together we were singing the blues.

I tucked you away just safely,
For another day to come;
I found you on this morning (for instance),
Now, I’ve been struck dumb.

Little things we keep, held on to so tight,
Parts of us small, which make up our lives.

October 18, 2014

Success isn’t a Surprise

What we do,
and fate,
shapes the lives
that we make.

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