Posts tagged ‘work’

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?

September 19, 2014

Lovely Location

i love where i’m at
a dog licks paws in back
a chair below offers comfort, my seat
i am moderately relaxed

i love where i’m at
no one tells me what to do
no one yells at me or you
non-profit is the bottom line;
i can see my day through

i love where i’m at
most days same old act
used to be tired of my situation
now it’s-
computer’s buzz as people chat

i love where i’m at
days of coffee cream and stacks
reading books in the moment, as in now-
Auf Wiedersehen til i get back

i love where i’m at
didn’t get here in a day
struggled through shit people played
don’t have too much to say
i will tell you on the way:

i love where i’m at.
i love where i’m at.

Where are you?

August 25, 2014

Bad Sunburn

Salt
Sweat
Sunburn
These seasons…

Huffing and puffing
Ride to work

Glowing ball
in the sky
beating down,
Breaking
the dew point record;

Yesterday,
High-rise
thick clouds,
Lightening show
and shadows

Values darkened and stiff,
These puffy entities-

Radio in earbuds, bag stuck to back, stinging, burning, sloughed off skin, in movements, in moments.
Now the day begins.

August 16, 2014

Empty Space Saturday

This place

desolate, bleak,

empty-

skeletons stood upright to

prove

a structural form.

 

Watching

the paint on the walls grow old,

 

hearing

thud: heart-beating,

below skin.

 

Times,

follow the second hand’s tick-

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick,

 

sound of a knife-

slice.

 

Ding of the elevator; on a far off floor,

maybe the moon-

these distant lands…

 

Not for you.

 

Sit down, not quite at home-

comfortable,

this place is haunted too;

 

with:

dead memories

dust

and pasts assumed.

 

The surrounding silence marks the language lacking.

 

Hunched on rowed stacks,

far towards the back.

 

-Can’t see.

 

And you thought you were the only one

Sit and think until punch clock strikes: done. 

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 24, 2014

Entitlement Changes Everything,

I won’t buy shit I don’t need.
I won’t sell worthless materials.
I won’t attempt to acquire possession,
save foil distraught people.

I won’t sellout my “loved ones”.
I won’t assume the intent of the dead.
I won’t speak implementing conjecture;
spinning cobwebs in your head.

I won’t suddenly change on point;
giving up my morals and ethos.
I won’t stare you in the face,
passing along “truths”- steeped in apocryphal.

I won’t because I can’t;
my spine remains intact.
My brains still function proper,
processing small things, this and that.

My train is still on the tracks,
just coming out of the station.
Presently I sit in thought,
pondering every situation.

I won’t bend to others’ whims.
I won’t listen to frivolous debate.
I won’t exist in sedentary situations,
or act foolishly in haste.

Moreover, I ask the lot,
In a common sense place:
Won’t you do the same?
Won’t you do the same?

So now that I’ve come forward you can take a lesson from me
Put away all your assumptions and let your words flow free.

***

You know my name;
It’s the same as my dad’s.
Everyone “knows” what he would have wanted,
weighing a lifetime, possessions in their hands.

July 21, 2014

Monday Morning

alerted bolt upright by a sticky sheet situation,
first hours of the day
eggs toast and hot sauce
back pains and skin stuck to the bed.

radio conveying news, noise, whatever…
life has been brought to my attention -social media-
ladies promoting sexism; life venting on things, ironically, whatever…

moving stirring sitting standing
applying lotion,
fresh tattoos peel and feel like sunburns,
still drying to some extent.

packing bags, fingering keys, opening doors,
one way to the bathroom for relief
fake leather gloss on my bike seat
read something, anything—Nietzsche.

shower, shit, don’t shave
set- stare in the mirror,
look down to feet
making way, avoiding the cat and debris,
dust filled rooms, draw shades no heat relief.

silverware drawers,
sink filled with grease,
pressures such as time, hypocrites, saboteurs, hunger, cleanliness–…  oh, and NEEDS.

hang about dizzy-clogged head
one thinks
one forgets
one waits
one bends
I should have stayed in bed
I should have stayed in bed.

June 5, 2014

Measure of Man

Hands spun on a dot
Reflecting a scene before
The peanut butter sandwich inside
Or its crumbs on the floor

The wise-crack comment
That no one seems to get ever
The sheer weight of stupidity
In a mass of clever

This is as I am
I am truly just one person
I wake up in the morning
To make important decisions

I rest late in the day
Just to make it through to night
I am an average thinker
On the pathway of life

Am I the measure of a clock that hangs on the wall?
Am I a past person, moments ago, the one they recall?

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.

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