Posts tagged ‘thoughts’

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 23, 2014

At the beach (Cedar South)

At the beach,

this burnt sand desert;
tan,
beyond feet,
hot!
dig underneath.

Swimming lake water to avoid the heat,
people lazing on towels,
hiding beer cans
attempt save discrete.

Plants sharp as knives while walking with bare-feet.

At the beach
At the beach

Sex parts covered by diaphanous cloth,
where we sit with wandering thought lost.

Sunscreen smells,
lax notion,
rubbing lotions,
discussion minced, quiet commotion-

ride, bipedal, or car from the city to the streets to meet,

at the beach
at the beach.

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.

July 6, 2014

Positive Platitude (this day)

Have a great day, make it that way.

Cold shower and fresh fruit,
Radio’s on to get the scoop.

Come dressed in Sunday best.
Blessed, whatever that means.

The little things__

Counting clouds in the sky, as we are biking by,
Minnesota streets; avoid pot-holes in between.

Big warm sun overhead,
Oh! To leave pleasant bed.

The life we lead;
Not the life we could have led.
Positive thoughts,
The words we’ve read.

Making what you can out of what you have, this day-

For no reason at all.

June 30, 2014

Certainty

Death, a certainty in life
Just one…

Gut-rot hung-over
Dirt in sleepy eyes

Then the rain came;
Drained,
Growth sustained.

Death, a certainty in life
Just one…

Changes as the clouds in the sky

Once tried
Once tried

No more

Certainly.

June 26, 2014

The Great Human Specimen

(Words of which describe feeling; the impossible to relate.)

Thoughts we couldn’t possibly know
Interpreting best we can
Relating as we move in growth
From anger to love; make amends

Constant ebb and flow
She says it gets worse over time
Freeing and easing as we go
Futile attempts at relieving the mind

Struggling to care for one-self
Bettering to make it through
The toughest part of life
Is missing those we knew

Forgetting each moment one by one
Filling them with something new
A child once, now a man
Living only to pay our dues

We are the great human specimen; half of one life and half of another.
Our eyes, our ears, our smiles, our fears, come from our father and mother.

June 25, 2014

Poetry for Profit

Poetry for Profit;
The dilettante says.

It just doesn’t happen,
It’s an illusion in the sick minded head.

Corporate sponsors,
Ads which have mislead.

They have a job to do:
They have to pose and fit for trends.

If you do it for monetary reasons,
You won’t genuinely achieve success.

Real artists have bled,
They don’t concern themselves with worrying about the point-spread.

People live fantasy lives all the time
Where they are famous
They are sought-after
They are “the greatest”, labeled by their closest friends.

Where they try their best to be noticed,
But no one cares in the end.

If you write to proclaim “I’m a poet”,
To get paid cash and attain lavish threads,
To fulfill a lifestyle image that’s been played-out,
In order to satiate big dreaming ego-ed heads.

I have news for you:

You could write non-stop for the rest of your life,
But writing won’t always be the hot ticket trend.
So many others have paved the way before you,
While you merely lazed lying in your comfy bed.

***

Try doing your passion for years and years to free your mind, to share thought, to pass the time, unnoticed.

Could you?

Don’t do it for profit, never do art for profit; take a look at the masters, they lived in destitute, some unrecognized in their lifetimes for what they had accomplished.

-Doubtful.

***

Go, go, go-
I know people who have done more with less, they are called my relatives.

June 19, 2014

Minor Details

Eyes in front,
Focusing on some high-rise Ant Farm

Minor details…

No coffee; none for sale.

Thoughts on our time
When contemporaries write on depression
And how they want to write,
Immodestly mentioned

Do they write for words or recognition?

In my mind,
At the beach
Shirtless,
An ex heroin addict describes me as fat- I react.

Paltry people
Trite intention
Sad appeal
Apathetic apprehension

Now,

Off to work
Watching busy professionals pace hard by
Begging for fame- notice me! They say.
-Under heavy skies.

June 11, 2014

Meaning

An anomaly
A puzzle
A quizzical notion,
-Enigma.

Light, dark, grey
Flesh opens to blood-stains and pains

Once wrapped taught around
Up top
A brain

Eyes,
A Nose that drains

Hands and feet,
Legs below

Born, an age
Names and clothes

Hair follicles misplaced; misshapen displays.

We make ourselves in better ways,
-But in better ways than what?

Big Bang:
-Molecules; me and you.

Fate;
Naysayers claim a choice to choose.

The Bible too…
It was made of something.

Paper, ink, think-thought, present moments, caught or lost—
That’s the idea.

Dare do take part,
Now,
How did it start?

May 27, 2014

Who isn’t?

Who isn’t?:
“I am writing a book.”
“I am writing a poem.”
“I am a published author.”
“I have a Kickstarter of my own.” -Every Writer Ever

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