Posts tagged ‘Flying’

March 19, 2017

dad knew

i cut the shades to sunrise pale
because there was nothing there and my father.
there were words in book.
there were time spent in the recesses of my brain,
turned to gas and confusion,
lost attentions and forgotten bank statements.
where i used to fly planes even though
i would fill the bag and he would laugh.
then a plane crash. i could feel the fields
and the corn and the trees
and the dirt in the valley as we looked for that wheel
which exploded off on impact.
it was back at the hangar.
…and he used to make bombs like Uncle Sam
and blow deer heads off of walls,
they made sounds like shotguns miles away,
black trash bags and simple chemistry.
smells like someone is burning pine or trash.
cut the shades to nitrogen.
just a thought. the reflection of the house next door
and its waxen motion sensor light,
should have been changed months ago to be effective.
and nothing. cut the shades, they can see in
and i can see out
and i am sure there is nothing there.
that’s what happens with your attitude
and aspiration as you come closer to it.
to that one thing that no one talks about
and pretends isn’t there. dad knew.

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December 29, 2014

Day Two: Dublin, Ireland.

Sitting here with a view of predawn Dublin;
Lights slowly flicker on,
A dark morning comes to fruition.

Stretching and yawning moans,-cold to chill the bones through,
And the others are asleep while I write to you.

Electrical outlets and jetlag at present,
As the global news dances on a set.

From this now local residence, everything must be accounted for in this list’s existence:
Not to miss a flipped switch, groceries, taxis, euros, and pubs, a lit doorway in the distance.

Sitting alone,
Taking it in.

Thoughts of warm tea, or coffee.

The cold in my throat looms as heavy as the cold in the room,
And the sun has not yet risen to melt it away.

I wait for Day Two in Dublin, a brand new day.

January 22, 2014

Traveling Through to Poland

Anita adorning green from Poland had the bravery to walk up and ask…

 

She asked where the Mississippi was, this and that

She wanted a bar with windows, a view of the flowing ice mass.

 

We walked and chatted

She wanted us to ‘make’ a photo of her as proof-we did as a matter of fact.

 

On we walked

On a wet path

On snow covered bricks

Puddles parted and splashed.

 

Along we stepped in boots and made tracks.

 

She came from a short stay in Hawaii, apparently living out of a pack

All in all it was 2 day’s travel, both there and back.

 

She smiled and said she didn’t understand why Americans got such a bad rap.

 

We were polite, and smiled, and spoke English softly; explaining this place-amateur history, semi-exact.

 

She took in what she could

We gestured and pointed with hands and tact.

 

She was so happy to meet us

We said goodbye and went on separate paths.

January 19, 2014

Prologue; Traveling Through to Poland

This was a surprise Spring day in Minneapolis

Last week it was bad.

 

She said she wish she could come back in the summer

We said we stay for that.

 

Constant building of Culture

Constant trading of small facts.

 

Loving those for who they are

For being brave

For not putting on an act

Whilst gaining knowledge from that.