July 31, 2014
we sit behind walls to pay for sitting behind walls.
Wheels spin, no gas on deck,
armies fight wars waged for black gold;
these things are related.
Glass punctures and creates an escape,
you sit roadside with a flat-tire and deflated ego.
An IED blows off a soldier’s leg,
an obese man eats a sandwich and drinks a diet coke,
a beautiful young model hates her reflection; finding flaws;
a CEO makes money.
And no one knew the half.
a book weighs down a hand,
words play heavy on the head.
Cottonwood seeds float on thick air,
tombstones bask in the sun.
So far away no voice could reach;
even so not of native tongues.
Days we have lost and the one that just began,
my toast is burnt,
furniture sits un-rearranged.
Affects leave me unchanged;
for certain of, same, -oh distaste.
Life goes on
a cat meows
a clock ticks
the heat moves in and settles down
Fall is here.
Only this time it’s without you.
I wish I could tell you about that.
July 28, 2014
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.
rolling in the lamplight
covered in white-cloud blankets
warm in her spot.
The bed holds like a trusted hand.
shadows paint the walls and ceiling.
Torso imprints a time, right there.
past moments in my mind.
July 23, 2014
At the beach,
this burnt sand desert;
Swimming lake water to avoid the heat,
people lazing on towels,
hiding beer cans
attempt save discrete.
Plants sharp as knives while walking with bare-feet.
At the beach
At the beach
Sex parts covered by diaphanous cloth,
where we sit with wandering thought lost.
discussion minced, quiet commotion-
ride, bipedal, or car from the city to the streets to meet,
at the beach
at the beach.
July 21, 2014
alerted bolt upright by a sticky sheet situation,
first hours of the day
eggs toast and hot sauce
back pains and skin stuck to the bed.
radio conveying news, noise, whatever…
life has been brought to my attention -social media-
ladies promoting sexism; life venting on things, ironically, whatever…
moving stirring sitting standing
fresh tattoos peel and feel like sunburns,
still drying to some extent.
packing bags, fingering keys, opening doors,
one way to the bathroom for relief
fake leather gloss on my bike seat
read something, anything—Nietzsche.
shower, shit, don’t shave
set- stare in the mirror,
look down to feet
making way, avoiding the cat and debris,
dust filled rooms, draw shades no heat relief.
sink filled with grease,
pressures such as time, hypocrites, saboteurs, hunger, cleanliness–… oh, and NEEDS.
hang about dizzy-clogged head
I should have stayed in bed
I should have stayed in bed.
July 21, 2014
Gatorade and Smokes,
MH-17 and Jokes;
And this concept seems remote.
Just ask CNN my friend.
you know they know, you know.
Just hoping these floaties float.
Peace is always an option,
I think about this as I laze in the sun.
Realize the damage that’s been done
Revelation: Gatorade is for athletes and alcoholics.
Noble Inquiry: How many atheists fight in religious wars?
July 11, 2014
tell of South Ridge
and distant relatives;
revelations such as this
come hard to miss,
a loss of words.
These were once
and crossed-out lists.
Rain drops tapping my head soaking my shoulders.
We drove there in the morning
to leave by afternoon.
Now, I stand here under
dark spinning skies
and hoping for you.
July 9, 2014
on pretty flesh;
a meaningful, forever, sentiment- lined sketch.
For life, for death,
a canvass to test,
bold bright colors; judgment: pretense.
Now art, now unique, now taut puffed; hurt when pressed.
Self-inflicted wounds to heal,
paying for this pain,
stories etched on the surface;
Now, what do yours mean? …
Everyone is jumping off of that bridge,
So I packed a parachute and lit a smoke- see?