Posts tagged ‘poems’

January 26, 2015

Cold Campus Commute

The connector bus sways

On each turn and pass,

As students await in cold,

Near snow, behind glass.

January 23, 2015

Pages of the City

The city center has
Been filled with

Trash.

These spots to grab attention,
To make you buy: react.

Local rags remain,
Good at that, and intact.

Though,

What stands out is
The importance they lack.

We have books by the stack,
Micro-brewed beers,
Diverse weather,
And bike paths.

We have beaches
In the summer months to relax,
And theatres like
The Guthrie to see acts.

Local mags don’t really map that;
They attack,

-With photos, lists, and ads.

Painting a picture without paving a path,
They write on setting precedent, because they can’t.

***
I suppose one day I will be surprised when an article proves friendly to my eyes.
But only after realizing how much effort was put into marketing to my demographic.

January 22, 2015

On a Street in the Metro

The remnants of this weather on the ground;
Chemicals on a slick, snow plow.

January 20, 2015

The Little Things We Do

We wake in the predawn.
We take warm showers.
We tie tight our laces.
We walk through few doors.
We take in the bright light.
We move down the walkway.
We step through the snow.
We start this new day.

January 17, 2015

Reentry Plan (Leaving Ireland)

Double-Decker Buses, Outlet Adapters,
Dirty Seagulls and Elegant Flats;
European Cafés, Dublin City, -Ireland,
So much to pack and bring back.

January 11, 2015

A Sunday Walk through Dublin

On the streets of Dublin razor-wire hangs from fences.
Seagulls and Magpies dive in headwinds, this sentiment.
From a far off land noting the usual; on the corner is a café,
In the streets are double-decker buses, along the River Liffey
The needy sit, cups in hand, shaking; while padlocks affix
Bridges dressed in rust, only to express an undying love.
On a normal walk on a normal day, thousands of miles from
Home, just on my way – away. I walk to the store for toiletries
And a view. I find a thrift shop and enter to the land of Oz.
Across the street is Religion; with a paper in hand I watch those
Exit from the church, off of their pews, they walk through
The traffic stepping to, righteous, holy, and unamused.

December 23, 2014

Her Morning Alarm

Crickets wake me in the morning,
Even in the middle of white winter.

They chirp and buzz and shake
And vibrate and annoy and call-

Moments later my partner is slapping
Them hard to death, they die direct, -fast.

The next morning they come back to
Life as if nothing has happened at all.

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 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 4, 2014

Finals in a Boat

Thick are these academic papers;
We cling to as long proved assets.
Fingers flip thru dull page after page,
Proving proclaimed righteous passage.

Moving red eyes scan this distant mote,
To grasp sought after effective note.
Hoping, praying, and prying we go,
Aspire this traveled boat always floats.

Thru vast opaque waters of fluid mind,
Much is the lacking of present time.
Having been assailed, to keep us entwined,
Confined we fret, towing endless line.

To calmer seas onward we press,
Trying challenges bested, nobly met.
To succeed; to degrees; to just pay rent-
Precious hours of our lives lost or lent.

To dock that long off nigh forgotten vessel,
To pin to chest the highest rank of glint medal.

***
See what I’ve caught? It’s called a label.

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