Posts tagged ‘love’

December 18, 2014

I’ll Call in Sick for You*

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.

*For AKA.

December 16, 2014

a city shell (and individuals)

Fleeting acquaintance which grew like trash
As each fickle feigned word exchange passed,
Few thoughts ring true while coming through
Comprise this changing layered bunch of you.

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 12, 2014

Winter 2014 (On: Summer 1969, by Seamus Heaney)

Thoughts of reading a text by *S. Heaney,
Bits and pieces of dewed Madrid,
With heavy inflections of Hemingway,
Scattered about within. Bull horns
And drink, and women, and sex. Smell
Of skin, fish parts, and molded excrement.
Emitting and emoting the pawing presence
Of death; Protestant and Catholic,
Rebellions over said claims.
There the air held hot, as one without water,
Lacking, in a vast desert, as a drunk’s hung-over
Morning plight, -head-spin, praying for the noise to fast die,
Lavishing in Great Lakes of the mind.
He spoke of letting it go, as in
Sobering up, as in really feeling this event.
He had been fearing the gun holster
And lack of action in present. Admiring the man
Who hand-gripped the cold barrel steel, afraid to notice.
But all those bleeding bulls, and fish debris, and local
Women, and spent shells counted. Dripping their sweetness
On his fingertips, wet, as the spilt thick
Ink of his pen. Language of stink
And movement. Surely he felt a bit
Satisfied as he sipped a beaded glass of beer
In the city center, in the summer, 1969,
In Madrid, as he wrote his free-verse prose. As he
Let his words come alive and go.

*Singing School (Summer 1969), BY SEAMUS HEANEY

December 11, 2014

The Theory of Thought

The theory of thought
Went out for a walk.

It was there on its own,
It needed naught for a home.

It walked by in due time,
Past the people in line.

When it was asked to come back
It protested with attack;

It hit and it punched,
It scratched and it killed.

It never stopped,
It was horrified and thrilled.

So when thought came back to this present location
It spoke to all those leaders of this great nation.
Thought said, “Use me or lose me, it is very true,”
“I was only here from the beginning to help you.”

*
Now there is proof for the thinker.

December 10, 2014

Some keep Significance going to Social Media – (632)

Some keep Significance going to Social Media –
I keep it, walking the Park –
With a Book for a Link –
And the sun, for a like

Some keep Significance on the Interwebs –
I, just wear my shoes –
And instead of wasting the Day, for Scrolls,
Our little Writer – reads.

Man converses, a skilled Intellect –
And the thought is only skewed,
So instead of being Relevant, realistically –
I am every-day.

*Inspired by Some keep the Sabbath going to Church – (236) BY EMILY DICKINSON

December 6, 2014

A View in Minneapolis

While The Stone Arch Bridge looms
Over a foggy flowing
Mississippi;

In cold,
As flotsam floats-
Traverse these tossing translucent currents.

Glinting nigh business lights of St. Anthony Main.

Automobile and bus engines sustain,
Carrying the once open-air pedestrian-

Over 3rd,
In thin glow street lamps,

Bumping between buildings tall, and stoplights bright.

Downtown life,
With snow gathered underfoot below.

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 3, 2014

i think you care

i think you care

About:

Life, death, Ebola, drinking, race relations, the president of the United States of America, homelessness, taxes, funding wars, Mike, Uncle Sam, inadequacies, JFK, gas prices, rape, sex, drugs, violence, AIDS, Rock n Roll, Ferguson, STDs, music, College, grades, Foreigners, police brutality, Fakts, labels, Fakes, Lies, Words, plastic surgery, indigenous peoples, europeans, animals, opinions, superficial artistry, Starvation, The Minneapolis Scene, internet fame, government, money, cigarettes, cancer, hydrophobia, bombings, attacks, guns, apologists, separatists, corporations, cultures, cults, Moby-Dick, your job, my job, sedentary stares, external cost, Global Warming, Black Friday Sales, monomania, consumerism, debt, materialism, wants, needs, reality, the way we define language by how we compare, and that, by how we “know” what we “know” by comparison, rising tuition, the human condition, religion, the human condition, hope, institutions, the human condition, and forgiveness- Please.

Yes,

i think you care,
But one does nothing by feigning aware.

NOW MOVE.

December 2, 2014

check your inbox

Hello Veronica,
I will be there.
Thank you,
Terry_

Hello World,
I will save you.
Don’t worry,
Terry_

Hello Bottle,
I promise I will empty you.
Best of luck,
Terry_

Hello Minneapolis,
You are claimed by too many “artists”.
I won’t leave you,
Terry_

Hello Existentialist,
You are aloof in the park doing stretches.
I know you don’t care,
Terry_

To whom it may concern,
You are the best person.
Please write back,
Terry_

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