Posts tagged ‘thoughts’

March 2, 2015

Sunday Kitchen

There is a lecture coming aloud from the local radio,
As a slab of raw meat sits red on a kitchen countertop,
And hard words attempt to cause cutting glances,
Only stirring those with argumentative proclamations;
Two pieces of toast are burning in a dusty toaster,
While the sun’s white rays angle along a windowsill,
Taking note as my hand goes numb with the heavy pen,
Arrhythmic palpitations, these sensations of surprise;
Our domestic grey cat licks herself on the made bed,
Shoes cover feet from the stones sitting on the floor,
As socks come wet within, toes sweating at warmth;
Dried plants stand tall from the wooden tongues up;
A chair, rigid, and a couch, soft, are waiting too,
On this cold coffee morning, the taste is so strong
Of sweet outdated milk, bleeding steak, eggs, and onions-
Pieced are parts which come at present just to pass thru.

February 25, 2015

Free Me

Blood for ink,
the page for flesh,
and few words for character
description;

their imprint does stain,
the pinprick storyline
of a feeling—

I would sit and count
for minutes,
hours,
days,
months,
years,
etc.

but sitting is not conducive
to good movement, patience does nothing
except waste time
and progress
and dull the mind…

They may say: relax, let it pass.

that time; what could be
a particular goal seen to fruition.

Those who hold the ties that bind,
the keys we need,
are working steadily behind my
eyes,

the nerve—these nerves,
and more; each synapsis connects to
the message passed,

this circuit board commanding:

a knee jerk,
a hand slap,
an orgasm,
twitching muscles going to
bed—as you rock to zzzzzzzzzz.

Found out in between,
no verse to discuss,
no song to critique,

just the rigid clock’s tick,
and those who run by it (and from it):

they tell us what to do—
how to eat sleep and breath—
where to be, what to wear, how to look,
when and where—
there—and how to see.

Now who tells you how to be?

February 24, 2015

Taking Tuesday

Waking to this early Tuesday overcast
Love and work scatter the wooden floor below

Amongst dust rhinos and smudged folders, as
Stacked bound books beg for openness

Violins float in the apartment, making classical
Air, as though class systems didn’t exist

A tea kettle is burnt alive at the stove top,
While I starve in scraps of last night, of last minute,

Of yesterday, and of the rest of my life;
These pieces abstract on this yellow kitchen table

The body is fine when the temperature is above freezing;
Spring is here, teasing us back out of our shells—

Newly just out of bed, just in new light,
Now is the product of our sensitive closed eyes

And a person should acquire all of it,
And it’s just the second day of the week

February 22, 2015

The Crowned Fools

When a mouthful becomes a drain of
coffee, truth, and kale sluice through;
few mountains of Western sky-range,
Slowly appear in mirror’s rearview.
And the meek Auntie of white snow,
and the silly Uncle in his high castle,
don’t want you to attempt to “know”,
they couldn’t afford your little hassle.
Keep hope on that star-crossed day
when your father comes back to say:
new Widow has stolen my lifeblood,
as to set kith & kin at once estranged.

February 22, 2015

sediment

A life made of days,
A year made of moments;
How we will forget—
The places in between.

February 21, 2015

A Midwestern City

A Midwestern city holds its frozen contents—
These hardened pieces go about on their own.
Uniquely conditioned to unforgiving climates;
Still those passive parts make up the whole.

February 20, 2015

Make Everything

Make
everything in
life,

But
excuses.

February 17, 2015

a late day

I wake to shower,
She wakes to paint,
The cat wakes to eat,
We all might be late.

February 16, 2015

When does Spring return?

The city bus hums to me
As I wind through wet streets.

A stoplight shouts “wait”!
From a four-corner crossing.

White flakes fall heavy, thick—
Clouding a straight-line view.

We walk along the way wondering:
When does spring return?

February 16, 2015

Thin Mints for Brownie Points

As I exited Lind I saw a pack of girl scouts
Slangin’ boxes of cookies by Coffman Mall.
So, I had to drop some cash for Thin Mints;
I’m looking to score brownie points in class.

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