Posts tagged ‘Literature’

November 14, 2014

Theatre Our Selves

What play to our mirrors
Coming to for our peers
Gains a perfect little show
Moved to smiles and tears.

We cannot drop this act
Because of love- the fact:
That we are truly ourselves
Only inside of our house.

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 9, 2014

Sunday, November 09, 2014.

It is no Sunday, November 09, 2014.
Or any day…

It is a surreal institute
Of darkness in oppressing clouds
Looking down, waiting, coming-
Wrapping round;

Tangible—insistent, proud-
Turning breath to steam, to puffs, muting sound,
To daggers in the chest-
These real proper effects!

It is not any day,
Or any Sunday, November 09, 2014.
But the weather,
But the pressure.

Felt in measures.

October 21, 2014

The North Shore

Drift wood lie on the ground bent
Fixed there in midday sun ease,
Exhausted on mind’s fickle intent
Hard resting, come at fast release

Visible footprints mark this stroll,
Paths we meet coming toward,
Gambling dice we take a roll
Wagering what value we can afford

Making way we wander ’round
Pleasantly procured- what sight we sought;
Relishing that which we have found,
Making play with thoughts wrought

Likewise we stand the surrounding wilderness we stare,
Taking inside us breath, becoming alive through fresh air.

October 14, 2014

The Cost of Education

Onion yellow pages prove the condition
of every Norton Edition I’ve been given;
there is a rubber-band taut around that,
to keep their edges from bending back.

Expensive lot of the campus book store,
with every Professor prescribing more.
I ponder the decision of this fine selection.
Asleep eyes open; scanning at attention.

Who writes these lines that I must remind*?
-With so much content leaving little time.
Fixed to a station, sitting rigid on a chair,
even short breaths find it hard to suck in air.

American Lit. comes but twice on weekdays.
I could’ve used the library in so many ways.
Next semester I’ll scrape, steal, and borrow
So that future bank visits won’t end in sorrow.

Aside from that, it’s the price we pay for our education;
Now, we must be mindful of the freedoms of other nations.

*Recall
*
Germany = Free Tuition

October 10, 2014

Each Blade of Grass

Each blade of grass
Rests
Different
In the sun.

Some appear blue-green,
Others appear well-done.

Scorched in noon-day sunrays,
Dancing in the wind for fun.

Each blade of grass is an individual.
Each blade of grass is but one.

October 7, 2014

Post-Wake

Another day to have,
To make-
Shower, eat, read, be -Exist…
Only after we wake.

October 1, 2014

Patience in the Rain

Rain sluiced along proofed fabric
A time for lights in opaque dark
Hope at the end of a long tunnel
Cautious minds where thoughts start

Wet roads have been transposed
Reflecting on headlights and glare
Soaked to the bone, not wet- froze
Sore feet, legs bent, to climb stairs

Trees brown hung in a thick fog
Broken dreams soaked in ketamine
Short life; once considered so long
Desperation in true wants and needs

Appeal to us, they scream their pleas
Attempt aloofly soft big bear hug
Buried alive in the blackened soil
Fist blooded at the red door front

Pushing hard shiny metal pedals
Once a kiss, and then once more
Some say that patience is a virtue
It depends on what you wait for.

September 28, 2014

Modern Now

Post-Modern;
This is Art.
What History?
What Start?

September 26, 2014

Hollow Bones or Dead Teeth

He sat,
Clasped hands,
Sometimes clattered on the desk,
Wearing his nails long;
Hollow bones or dead teeth,
Criticizing,
Moving with gestures-

-Words on gender and pleasure.

One must point the finger
At self
In a mirror
To find out.

Once to be challenged
Once to be inspired.

Ah, the English Major exacting his critiques on me…
God save silence, God save Education, God save humility.

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