March 23, 2015
You, me; us we—forward or backward,
together we are the same.
Parts of a carnal body, whole—
built of dust, thoughts, and air;
no scar is without a measure,
no action still unmoved,
shell of human being outside,
ghost of us within.
We are compelling a kind,
eyes peer to see;
from Franklin and Nicollet to NE,
Middle America to Middle East.
Still, forward or backward, we are the same.
March 13, 2015
As early March had come in biting and the best were kept inside,
a span of two weeks had passed slowly and sleep had become elusive.
Professors watched second hands tick and gave out faux tests;
these symbolic life quizzes—it’s who makes it who matters.
Desks became confines as concentration went out open windows,
to welcome hands of mild weathered-breeze and new-season sun.
People—tired students, red-eyed lecturers, they didn’t exist;
regular situations became stimuli for a stagnant comatose: why?
No answers formed, except that three days later a person could be a week away,
anywhere—abroad, nothing to do, only to read titles and books which please.
Yet we all sat watching that clock, it moved slower despite us;
now, it would have to stay indoors and assess classrooms of empty chairs.
Scholars and administration would hopefully be in Spring air, taking it in,
with a cold beer in hand and tender sunrays on their back;
minds would exist as empty—blank slates, to pen a tale—an experience,
with no thoughts of what was left sitting behind, with not a hint of rigor.
February 4, 2015
Black ice with a dust of snow;
Causing foul for the work commute.
Dramatic TransAsia plane crash,
Beheadings and rebel fighting too.
-How about you?
Today’s News is blasé-
Most are concerned about the reality of:
Early class start times,
And designer coffee that is simply too hot.
They keep us distracted and informed.
February 2, 2015
While in school one must not
In early morning one
Must eat breakfast.
At the library
Books are for reading.
Some advice is worth heeding.
After school one is allowed
To sip a beer.
In the bathroom
Windex clears the mirror.
Excuses are like Band-Aids;
Stitches hold up better.
Some people’s words are as fast wind,
Like the weather.
During days there is no time
In my one-bedroom apartment
The décor is quaint.
Some will disagree about this
Idea, or concept, -or that.
To them I am sorry,
-Sorry. (And I am usually not an apologist.)
In your head there is a brain,
Try to use it.
January 28, 2015
Today I woke up next to someone I love,
I walked into the kitchen to feed the cat.
After that, I took a shower, a shit, and brushed my teeth;
Today has been pretty remarkable already.
January 5, 2015
We are made up of 60% water—
So, if we drink water,
From a different land,
From a different city,
From a different spring,
From a different past, present and future,
Do we become made up of something entirely different?
December 18, 2014
Are you at work?
Are you really sick?
If it is so,
I’ll help you with this.
You don’t feel well,
You feel pretty bad,
I’ll call your business,
The results are back.
May I speak to the boss?
Is ______ in right now?!
Well, let me tell you
They must leave town.
It doesn’t look good,
They’ve tested absolutely sick.
I’m Doctor Terry,
I’ll attest to this.
They should be released,
Purpose: to get better;
Especially in this perfect,
Warm, sunny weather.
Telling it to them straight,
So you can leave work-
It’s worth it to go,
Get from life its full worth.
Trapped in a cubicle walls seeming beautiful;
The wonders are outside, if the truth be told.
June 4, 2014
Currently my ears are to The Current:
1.) I need to do a membership drive.
2.) I need to tell you what I have to offer.
You may need me.
The someday sun guides these moments,
Skimming and scanning words for entertainment.
Dessa Darling writes of trendy folk
Sitting somewhere in Uptown
In a hyped-up exclusive dive
She frequents all the time.
Feeling somewhat deprived…
Locally famous can get you work—
Haven’t you heard?
Can one person tell us of life?
Exposing us to worth
__Describe what to like,
And what’s cool, new, and authentic! (Right?)
Mundane to old
Fresh to mold
Hot to cold
And I digress,
I do so, but
So it goes.
Who decides the content?
What did they accomplish?
A fine print promise
Only allowing what we should know;
Ads and Marketing pave the road.
Candle to the sun
Eyes attempt escape
Another torn notion
Another empty page
We read on:
We read on.
Their sales people and prospectors betray
Their photo editors have much to display
Constantly political in profitable ways
Constantly cynical; printing what pays
And we run off to a book, to a poem, to a forest, to a river,
To hear nothing but the truth.