| my poetry |
| kings of sand organic silver heart gasping in the sunlight; freezing in the sand. Forgotten by the waves and found by children who, ignorant that the universe is round had walked a straight line hoping to get somewhere. Following their footprints through boulders obliterated by the objectivity of Time, Time--(who does not care enough to hate the toys that it breaks.) Children who will soon come across (the spot) where they {hopefully} had read the sign and removed their shoes only to find that they no longer fit. Nightime never came. And as I struck the final key ready to move on--to forced dialogue between close friends, I realized that the "poem" scattered on the shimmering screen was about nothing more than the space of time elapsed in writing it. *posted with permission from Autumn Leaves Journal |
| "a poem should be wordless as the flight of birds." --archibald macleish |
| The Lesser of Two Evils You wear buttons on your bag, you talk of freedom and truth you talk the talk pretty well but I've yet to see you walk the walk. "My days of changing things were over long ago." Why? Leave it to someone else? In a democracy, you can't just leave it to someone else--it gets left to the politicians, then, and democracy is gone--not crumbled in revolution, but skulking away in silent Ccoca-colonized defeat. You read books by Jesse Jackson and vote to save the world, send money to the ACLU write letters to the Senate wall. You did your part in '69, Said you can't find a needle by burnin' the hay. But now you say this ain't your time. If it ain't your time, get out of the way. Your mini-van's a billboard "Love your mother earth," but you're still scared of Red Flags remind you of those commie fags who made your knees knock under your desk all the way from fucking Moscow. You feel powerless to change the course of collision with a carnal force of blood for hire for Michelin tires we all cried when we saw the sky on fire. But you keep out these notions with a white picket fence deny your emotions pay taxes and the rent. "We the people" sit on our asses can't see shit without our glasses, we're moving slower than molasses equality must be something more than a few last minute thoughts tacked onto a Constitution gone with the wind of words and rulings. All rich White American Men were created equal. Read between the lines sometime. You'll see what's really there. But the buttons on your bag aren't enough to save your soul when the devil gets elected. (The lesser of two evils once again.) The lesser of two evils once again. Evil is as evil does rhetoric only goes so far. There's a person in there, I know you're there hiding behind the door double-locked against the bad black men who you fought for way back when. Come on out and face the facts: You've been sitting on your ass, and now it's time to sweep the street and in one voice say "we are free." I can sit here writing rhyme listen to Ochs, read Thoreau, draw the line but it's all a waste of time if I cannot be. So I've seen you talk the talk. Enough, let's walk the walk. I'm out of things to say, let's go out and paint the day. *posted with permission from Autumn Leaves Journal **unedited from my journal. |
| math class blank stare icy? no. % > 0: counter-clockwise yeah, whatever. I just wanna bust free hit the carpet running. shattering the frozen air pushing it away from my reddened face as I run breathless, ragged searching for you. "I could be the Walrus, but I'd still have to bum rides from people." but not anymore baby, I'll pick you up for one last time and we'll blow this town like a hospital in Afghanistan. Just you and me and the road like a riff-based rock song drenched with power chords a Tom Petty Steppenwolf, Supersonic Stereophonics rock-roll gotta-go ramble man take a stand anthem to freedom and love and speed without time. *posted with permission from Edge Hill Christmas Journal, UK |
| clearwater You can shut your eyes, but you will still see the tiny explosions of light. You can cover your ears, but you will still hear the whisper of air rubbing on air. You can hold your nose, but your mind will suffocate. You can look the other way, but you will always wonder what you didn't see. You can look closely but you will miss the big picture. You can be honest with others and still lie to yourself. You can see everything but understand nothing. *posted with permission from Autumn Leaves |
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| copyright laws are stupid. but they still exist. so i can't put all my poetry up here the way that i would like to. here are a few poems that i have already published and are posted with permission from the publishers. if you are interested in viewing some of my unpublished work available for publication (and believe me i have a ton of it!) please contact me. |