Posts tagged ‘usa’

January 25, 2015

Naive

Fickle love’s passing fate,
Seen a wretched cold world;
Sweet birdsong of the wind,
And a blouse lay unfurled.

January 23, 2015

What Waste (Local Print)

On these dead trees,
On this black ink:
It makes a man worried,
It makes a man think.

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 21, 2015

The Reality of Free Writing

One hour of purposeful free writing
Had turned to my life portioned in words.
After a second read I knew it was shit,
Moments later the rhyme was absurd.

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.

January 10, 2015

To Brunch in Dublin

We walk in brisk blinding light
Thru people of differing pasts,
Closely along the River Liffey;
Birds, paper, coins, and trash.

January 8, 2015

Ephemera on the Walls of Time (prose)

And the gravity was of another land,
another culture, another time.

Things we brought with: our past.
Things we can’t keep: anything.

Taking and giving chips at a time,
plumes of dust,
or sand in an hourglass.

Being ground down to smooth,
to thin, the purpose to prove,
with time; there is nothing taken
that is not given back.

These are facts.

Sitting at a table where once other
elbows rested, where once other thoughts
stirred, once out a window bright sun blur,
these buildings still once stood, as
they do now- and again.

Somehow, someway, here now today,
but can I take this away?

No.

It is right here, right now. That’s all.

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