Posts tagged ‘reading’

September 22, 2014

How To: King of Notecards

King of Notecards
Working so hard

Excessive paper;
Academic waivers

Obsessed with syllabus
And what’s killing us

Oh(!) true
So few

Read a book
Write a story-

Become moved… (episteme and glory)

Ruling Notecards to
See memory through

How about you?

August 21, 2014

Lifestyles, I forget *(MPLS)

Heat index

Windless lungs

Torrential rain

Frozen months

 

Past pains

Tattoos reflect

Painted bodies

Empty heads

 

Pierced flesh

Slight regret

Walking home

Make amends

 

Life-styles

Cigar-ettes

Cold Coffee

Paid rent

 

Micro-brews

Common sense

Land-o-lakes

What day is it?

 

Doesn’t matter

I forget.

 

***

They are all the same anyway, and then they end. 

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.

July 31, 2014

Taxing Life

Life Taxing:
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.

Birds fly,
rivers flow,
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 31, 2014

Days between Books

Time is of the essence
We have now and others don’t
The mail comes in
Heavy, in boxes
Full of books
People count on efficiency
Moments matter
This is now
Time never ends, but when it does
Patrons to service
Phone calls to make
Papers to print
The life, the day, the dollar, the request
Another recall
Another beep
Another list
Projects and process
Building this knowledge
No one regrets
Nothing to fret
Days and what we do
Define me and you
The only proof lies in a check
Electronic deposit, hardly noticed notion
Who does anyway?
This is incredibly easy to forget.

July 28, 2014

peaceful reside

Darkened room
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.

She moves,
rolling in the lamplight
covered in white-cloud blankets
warm in her spot.

The bed holds like a trusted hand.

Lie processing,
words,
empty,
quiet,
awake alone,

shadows paint the walls and ceiling.

Torso imprints a time, right there.

Peaceful reside,
past moments in my mind.

-Goodnight.

July 13, 2014

Sociopolitical

Sociopolitical,
as lipstick and licorice;
kiss with the tongue,
hard feelings then diminish.

We won’t mention that again.

She said she’s always fine,
the next week she died.

I have the text to prove it.

-Found her along a country roadside
with holes and blood and mud.
The Sunday newspaper said it as
a matter of fact- Just. Like. That.

We had this one class together…
-Fremdsprachen, Deutsch.

Who writes that shit anyway?
It can’t be real-

Those papers…

A life that lacks is labeled as that.
A life on track is labeled as that.

Hands tied, for gosh sakes!
Bright white lines,
Coldest milk shake,
I was on Valium so I don’t remember that day- anyway.

Then the poetry reading was over…
So was everything else-

No apprehension
No hesitation.

What’s tension?
We mention:

Now-a-days,
A lifetime away,
Full of choices
Did you hear them voices?

And you thought for a walk.
And you thought for a talk.
And you made art with chalk
that did not last so long.

-Some cloudy milk transparency.

But that was all you did,
then you slept-

after the sun had left.

***

Also, danke schön Pakistan.
Story: A patron puts one hundred-dollar bills inside of the books he returns only to promote reading.

June 4, 2014

Local Odds and Ends

Currently my ears are to The Current:
1.) I need to do a membership drive.
2.) I need to tell you what I have to offer.

You may need me.

The someday sun guides these moments,
Skimming and scanning words for entertainment.

Dessa Darling writes of trendy folk
Sitting somewhere in Uptown
In a hyped-up exclusive dive
She frequents all the time.

…How natural.
Feeling somewhat deprived…

Locally famous can get you work—
Haven’t you heard?
Can one person tell us of life?
Exposing us to worth

__Describe what to like,
And what’s cool, new, and authentic! (Right?)

Stories retold
Mundane to old
Fresh to mold
Hot to cold
And I digress,

I do so, but
So it goes.

Who decides the content?
What did they accomplish?

A fine print promise

Only allowing what we should know;
Ads and Marketing pave the road.

Candle to the sun
Eyes attempt escape
Another torn notion
Another empty page

We read on:
We read on.

Their sales people and prospectors betray
Their photo editors have much to display
Constantly political in profitable ways
Constantly cynical; printing what pays

And we run off to a book, to a poem, to a forest, to a river,
To hear nothing but the truth.

May 27, 2014

How to Label an Artist/Author

The Art we delegate
From our own perspectives
Shapes our lives by our objectives

Down along the river
Or near a country farm
Intersecting thoughts which gather alarm

One sees it as this
One sees it as that
But who took the time to create the abstract?

Drunk on a bent
Metallic mouth of pills
Constructing a piece of horror for simple thrills

Other way around
Small city, big town
We have nothing to be ashamed of; these entities which confound

Orthodox rigid
Purely stuck in her ways
Running and ruining the lot, dictating thorough days

She stood so tall
Fat shiny red virago
‘Nothing new under the sun’, she said- let that swine waddle

Pictures in mind
Drawings in chalk
Some people are artists, while others are just talk

Strolling through woods
Park groves we stalk
The sights and sounds accumulate here on this walk

Figure a fitting label
Sit at sparse dinner table
The wind blows in performing a fable

Absolute absolves
We can make it, one and all
That of which we announce as “Art”, -exclusively they call

Most things are Art, and some things are not
To be an artist you must show what you’ve got.

April 28, 2014

Hipster Trivia at the 331 Club

Traffic lights outside
Squared off streets we ride
Orange glow comes to eyes
Promoting fun inside

Progression riding electric tracks
Now new Prius mounted bike racks
To tires, to gas; of metal and glass
Varying vehicles pass; blurred mass

Two Towns as one; this Twin Cities
Biked them apart in nights- winds against me

Horseshoes hit pavement in the mist of flown pigeons
Spanned bricks and mortar, riverfronts lain nigh bridges

Talking loudly with crass; assumed trite little facts
Old times we tell ourselves not to look back

At great heights we don’t look for cracks
At the bottom we look up and react

A smile;
Could be the start
Of a beautiful frown,
Or vise versa.
….  Or really dumb words…

To the street to the beach
To the liquor store first
On two feet in the sleet
Bright-sunned winters; make hurt

Not like sun burn
Pinked enough to learn
Thrown thoughts of concern to the birds
Know the fish by the worms, in other words

On the bar with “local celebrities”
I have to ask, “Where are they at?”
So many people who are dead to me
The meaningful discussions they attract

Flash those few a fat front row
Wait for a single beer, find seats for the show
She said she writes for Revolver, things like that
She said just put “hipster” in the title for hits, fact.

You learn something new every day.

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