Posts tagged ‘minnesota’

August 27, 2014

Fall the Day

Fall surprises
Come right past
Cool breeze day
I’m fine with that

Swing to and fro
Practiced at relaxed
Season’s change and grow
A time to retract

Life’s right now
Everyday to act
Moments of wow
Home is on the path

Astonished, reflecting the year that passed
As they say: don’t look back, don’t look back

August 26, 2014

Fishing near Lanesboro

Fishing near Lanesboro,

More beer than necessary,
one fish smoked, on a vast open field.

Spoken old-timers regale;
trials and tribulations in sar-ca-sm.

Late early last night,
Late morning faded blue-light.

fog that hung
on the fleeting dusk.

Lightening bugs
held within wind gusts.

Crept up slow
as sauntering drunks.

under low hung iron-bridge;
slicked mud and rocks.

Root River below,
life we fish, tied lures with knots.

August 21, 2014

There was a flood about us

Lightening danced across the sky in clouded seclusion; a million flash bulbs illuminated, ten thousand bowling ball strikes.

Cut uneven as broken glass still stuck together.
Gods must be gaming.
Cats run and hide.

Every silence a moment lapsed in hesitation for coming sound.
Alarm bells clamored loud, infrequently ringing.
This may pass before the commute.

Awoken by raindrop’s tapping,
as events plagued
pale-blue morning light
set in ruin.

There was a flood about us,
contrasted by the altitude.

August 19, 2014

St. Paul in the Fall

St. Paul in the fall,

whilst leaves change and thin.

 

Whilst festivities and fairs

under tents, bearing food, creep in.

 

Whilst trees bend

with robust forceful wind.

 

A time to reflect the mess we’re within;

past and coming years, one which end and begin.

 

Peers and loved ones we’ve lost,

at grand experience’ cost. 

 

Standing growing moving,

shedding one layer at a time

 

A tan peals and pales,

A secret is revealed.

 

Skin and bone become frail,

light years fast pass the snail. 

 

A north shore lake-effect patience,

Months under sun we’ve waited.

 

Suffering rain snow and gale,

Minnesota weather: what it entails. 

 

In and amongst everything;

though a singular unit, alone as one.

 

Walking fresh cold press coffee in hand,

scanning distant verdant lands.

 

On this walk towards autumn- new times and old friends,

alternatives we enact; to the ever changing plans.

 

Remember the voices we will never hear again.

Remember the times with loved ones we spend.

 

Perplexed by this simple yet inspiring life,

St. Paul in the fall feels cool, close, fast approaching, and right. 

August 12, 2014

Man Man at Triple Rock

Observant trend scene,
Heavy tattoo engrained,
Faux-tough and minor mean,
Façade, true, is claimed.

Street: Riverside, easy ride:
Perspective existing local,
Patched bags for small fries;
Real hipsters for yokels.

Through Cultures and Vultures,
Much Music and Trash-
Relative status shown vouchers,
Can’t see; bright lights we lack.

Stand in short lines outside.
Killing self with thin cigarettes;
Realize these lies through eyes,
One puff at a time, we forget-

Dive into undulating pool of people
Scuffed tennis shoes tied loose,
Sweat smell we breathe through-
Sip expensive cheap rail booze.

Catch the Route 2 Bus to be,
This night-life part of the city.
***
Motto: seen you there before, but never met, as in meet.
Standing dirty wet floor below feet until it’s time to leave.

August 6, 2014

Counseling

Broken concepts,
And I used to use colloquialisms frequently.

Is that a fact?
Glib drab, parted ways we react.

I haven’t pressed so hard with a pen in years;
maybe at counselor,
maybe before I tasted beer.

One can easily forget- what, with all of the prescriptions: Prozac, Zoloft, Ambien, and Effexor… These are words that won’t come underlined red; that common- for the better.

Does the kid have a mental problem, or does the country have a label and pharmaceutical problem?

You be the judge__

I have this many problems: to the nth degree.

I need better; fix me.

He wrote with passion, they say that in past-tense.

He had ideas,
he used words,
spoke when they allowed,
when they told him enough(!) he didn’t make a sound.

Now he changes his ways to reflect that language is sediment.

Trash amassed at each letter’s small feet,
from history they suck like a leach,
from years ago, and now today,
the words we use have their own ways.

Each one speaks through me.
Is it a drug addict or a patient that you see?

***

“The doctor is ready to see you now…”

***

My face was clay when I looked into that mirror somehow.

August 3, 2014

Morning Read

First thoughts of morning,
poor vision blues in a book.

Hung on each dark word as the guilty-
grabbing tired mind as it takes me inside.
Scanning each sentence, detecting its mention;
importance of just this, and just that,

-at that,
I put my head back
on a pillow,

Thoughts of last night stir as my belly aches.
Reading inspired relaxation as I ready the day.

July 22, 2014

a writer engaged…

Engaging keys to dance on the screen
a sticky banged-out sort of language,
eyes flicker-flash as they register,
each finely enacted word is painted.

Sentences used decidedly, discrete-
far beyond just average meaning,
right below the incomprehensible
reading brings light day dreaming.

Realism in lines, dots, and white blank space;
page-art, satire even written in haste,
excessive save excite, readers we do invite,
the slashes and dashes become grammar’s delight.

Ah, to scribe
Ah, what for?
Ah, to be a part.
Ah, what more?

Thoughts just come, one by one;
even when lacking to grasp,
some are produced with purpose-
others just come from the ass.

It is easy to complain, but so much harder to compliment.
It is easy to say we make, but so much harder to create content.

July 21, 2014

Monday Morning

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
applying lotion,
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.

silverware drawers,
sink filled with grease,
pressures such as time, hypocrites, saboteurs, hunger, cleanliness–…  oh, and NEEDS.

hang about dizzy-clogged head
one thinks
one forgets
one waits
one bends
I should have stayed in bed
I should have stayed in bed.

July 11, 2014

Storied Weather (South Ridge)

Familiar clouds
tell of South Ridge
and distant relatives;
revelations such as this
come hard to miss,
a loss of words.

These were once
interactions,
turned keys,
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
watching
waiting
and hoping for you.

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