I watched a girl knock over a drunken man’s glass
Off a fence post
The highball glass didn’t wobble off
There was no instance of dull fear at the
Inability of prevention
Simply it just was on the concrete
With its shards reflecting the headlights as they passed
The tattooed drunk did not get angry
As some men are disposed to become under a similar circumstance
He muttered in a dead pan voice
-*My long island

My mother and I went for a walk
On an autumn evening
Through the woods where our
Home was built
I ran off ahead
And you hid behind a tree

When I turned around you were gone
I yelled for you but saw no one
I shrieked through the tears
And you calmly stepped from nonexistence
Everything was right once more in the world
My flaky worries were old and dusty
And with a half smile you turned around
Before your hair could jump from your shoulder to your back
I happily ran up and took your hand
Forgetting about the momentous hurt placed on me
Touching me like bark on my fingertips
Reminding me of what I had learned

When you were young you were the King
The Woman King
And what a reign you had
Anything you wanted
You would pluck
Like an apple off a tree
And run it like rubies through your fingers
Their tears would beat them to the floor
Always a step ahead of your subjects
And two ahead of your rivals
Your throne could not be contested
A god to some
A devil to others
You thought of this as a game
The rules your own
Your life the wager
But with reward came risk
And a good King can spin risks into royalty
Everything in the world and you still wanted more
You needed more
You needed your Queen
But the Queen did not need you
She saw the rules
She understood the game
And you never thought two could play it
You never even put up your guard
And she had you on your knees
Crying to stop and begging for more
You offered her what you valued most
Your throne
And the Queen sat on your bruised back and smiled
*-I already have a throne

It’s hard to say when it exactly happened.                        Man, what a boring day. Sitting here for at

There she was minding her own business                         least twenty minutes and she still hasn’t

and here I am foolishly falling in love with                        shown up. I’m starving too. At least the

her. It’s tough to say what really appealed                        weather’s nice here. The leaves are finally

to me about her. She just had a sort of                        changing and it looks like it might rain.

quality about her, just sitting on that                         Poetic. Prime people watching weather.

bench in a nonchalant fashion. Maybe her                        All of them going about their lives, for the

apathy appealed to me. Wouldn’t that be                         most part unconcerned with each other.

ironic, a lack of interest striking my own.                        It’s hard to not feel lonely when people

No, no, it had to be something else.                          prefer Facebook to real conversation.

I had the pleasure of watching her as I                         No body seems to be taking the sidewalk I

walked pass the bench. She seemed                         took today. Everyone’s just ambling along

content to just sit there waiting for                         the path along the street. There’s little

something. Maybe she was waiting for a                         traffic today too. It’s hard to make out

friend to meet her there or perhaps she                         anyone at this distance. There’s just one

was tired and wanted to take a quick rest.              boy walking past. He’s pretty average

She didn’t look at me directly, much to my             looking, nothing special really. Still I’d

disappointed relief. She was certainly                         take that over your typical Abercrombie

pretty. Not a model of perfection by the                         Frat-boy any day, though I’m pretty sure

social standard, but social opinion *****.                         they think the same for me. To hell with

She wasn’t bound by such superficialities                         them. He has dark brown hair, but it looks          

as social vanity. I wish more people were                         almost jet black with the rain clouds in

so. Her eyes were dark blue though they                         the sky. I wonder where he’s going. He

looked a tad gray on this cloudy day. It                         doesn’t seem to be in much of a hurry.

looked like it might rain.                                                Maybe he doesn’t care about getting wet.

She had brown hair cut shorter than most             He just pasts me and I really got a good

and her clothes didn’t look like they came                         look at him without looking. A plaid

from a mall. Blue jeans and brown boots                         button up with blue jeans. Carrying a

too. Not bad, not bad at all. She had a bag                         brown backpack, most likely filled with

with her, which was set down right beside             texts and other class stuff. He stops to

her. She was checking her phone and I’m                         check his phone. Maybe his girlfriend

walking past burping up butterflies. I                         texted him or his mom’s seeing how he’s

walked past her like a sleepy morning                         doing. I’d say he’s a sophomore but he

before Sunday church and stopped. I                         could be older. Judging from his look I’d

pulled out my phone, can’t have me                         say no one important. Two more

looking too awkward just standing there,                         freshmen loudly walk on by talking about

and pretended to check my text messages                         how much they hate some class they’re in.

as a pair of freshmen walked by. I had to                         Mmm, there’s my friend walking down

at least verbally confirm my existence to                         the street. Now I can finally go get some

her. I put my phone away and did a quick                         food. That boy is still texting; maybe it is

about haste.                                                           ­             his girlfriend. Too bad

She was gone.                                                            ­            He was cute

All along the beach
Tiny holes litter the sand
And inside each hole along this
Tiny strip of sand and tide
Live the tiny people

They are a simple people
Who walk swinging their tiny arms
And sometimes hold their tiny hands
So they can swing together

They love to take short walks along their holes
And leave behind a short trail of tiny footprints
They collect and dry grass
To weave tiny little hats for their tiny little heads
And go out into the water

At night they lie out on the sand and gaze up at the stars
And think about how these tiny dots
Make them seem even tinier

Their lives can be tremendous
When their tiny fires die down
They reach out
And reassure their love

Sometimes the day turns dark
And tiny drops of water fall from the ashen clouds

But for tiny people these create big floods

The dead are buried in tiny graves
And the living make even tinier drops of water
As if in a fit of irony

The wind is known to sweep away the tiny people
Like the smoke cut out of their tiny pipes

They never like to venture far from their holes

After many seasons
The tides rise far up the beach
And the tiny people are swept away

All are left are the tiny holes littering the sand
Staring at the sun as it passes over into the seas to sleep
Waiting for more tiny people to call them home

Remember these smiles?
Those happier days when we could
Innocently think that these days
Were the best of our lives?
Nothing could happen to us
We were the strongest
Our fathers knew nothing of our struggle
Our mothers sang nothing of our trials
Nothing could touch us
We were flawless
Then we dropped from heaven
Ground into the dirt and blood
Salty tears and cries for our mothers
To clean up our messes and tend to
Our rugburns and scratches
No kiss could fix
And that scared the hell out of us
We saw what the real world was like
Our parents tried to shelter us from
The empty Starbucks coffee cups and reality television shows
And what we saw brought tears to our eyes
And a song to our lips
We want so much more
We need so much more

I’m on top of the world.
Everything’s below me.
I’m five years old and nothing’s
Going to take me down.
I will go outside and play in the sand
Or maybe a squirt gun water war.
I will go back home and DEMAND a snack
‘Cause I’m five years old and master of all I see.
I will sit at the dinner table and eat only what I want.
That means no broccoli or green beans or carrots or crap.
(Oh my gosh! Did I just say that? That’s a BAD word.)
I don’t want to go to bed at nine.
I want to stay up.
‘Cause I’m a recalcitrant five year old
And I should always get my way.

Make me ugly
Touch me and let the sores sprout
And the hair fall away
Turn the dull brown of my eyes to milk
Knock aside my straight white teeth
Let the children run from my smile
I want to shatter mirrors
I want to punish eyes
People will cover their mouths in fear
And I will be the person under the beds
Of disobedient children
I will be shunned and hated
People will whisper monster under their breath
Others will ignore me entirely
And all the while no one will ever know
What kind of person is behind this face

Remember when we’d slowly grow up sitting on those steps?
Your mother used to come out with cold lemonade on those hot days
And you’d pass me a slice of watermelon.
I’d smile that stupid grin of mine
Complete with missing front teeth.
God those days were so hot.
Sometimes as if answering a child’s whimper
The Rain would just start pouring
And I’d be too proud to dance like an idiot.
But not you.
You’d splash with the gusto and laughter
Of nostalgia in the smile of a photograph.
You would call me over to join you in the puddles
But I’d shake my head.
I don’t want to get wet I’d scoff
And my cheeks would turn strawberry.
Your look of disappointment would turn to a playful smirk
And I would swallow my embarrassment.
You never meant me any harm.
My face glowed crimson and embarrassment turned to shame.

The air started to get cool
And the leaves on the trees became lazy.
We’d collect them.
They were nothing short of arboreal rubies.
The yellow oaks always caught your eye.
They were my favourite too.
My dad yells down the street
In a voice gruff like his bristly chin.
He was outwardly rough
But in truth he was a very sweet man.
Though you wouldn’t know it from my bruises.
I always thought he did it because he missed mom.
She was put in a box in the dirt a week after I was born
So I never knew how her voice sounded when she sang in her studio
Painting the yellow leaves we preciously held.

Halloween would come and we would run with the others from the neighbourhood.
Our faces painted like eggshells.
And we’d dance those secret incantations that only we knew
Passed down from generation to generation from our brothers and sisters.
As we’d go door to door on our quest for sugar
We would always fall behind from the rest.
You would grab my hand with a hearty
-Come on!
When we finally found our fellow ne’er-do-wells
You smiled at me though you were out of breath.
Even though it was dark out
I could still tell your eyes were brown.

Our first dance was in high school.
And just like you
You jumped the gun
And asked me if I would take you.
When I opened my mouth I swear I vomited butterflies.
I was so nervous the entire day preparing.
The process of looking presentable became unbearable.
I pulled up to your house only five houses from my own
(It was unthinkable to make you walk to my car)
When your mother came out
Which couldn’t be a good sign.

Voice like a strawberry coloured sunrise
Its cry shatters my piece of mind
My fingertips throb with delight

Swim through ideas wet with thought
It swirls and creates
Just a drop brings me to my knees

Never could I pray for a worthier cause
Standing at the cliff you pushed me off
My exulted freedom

We walk to the corner
Smoke a cigarette as the cars flash by
Rain kills the small gray clouds

Beseech to be free to live to move on
I am stripped of my chains
I brush these off my shoulders

Take a look at all of you down there
So sure of yourselves
So full of the hustle-bustle of life itself
Never stopping to see what could be
Potentially the greatest things of your lives
Jutting through the stream like hot knives
No all simply let life pass them by
Not seeing all the things
Looking you in the eye
And will watch even when you lie asleep
For the final time
You all think you’re hot ****
All hit and no miss
No questions
All answers
Obsess with self worth
Convinced that you’re dust with a value
Just because a god you’re not even sure exists told you so
When the urge to **** is gone
What’s the difference between you and the dirt you walk on
You all rise and fall like the waves in the oceans
Like a glissando of smoker coughs
New ideas are thrown against the scoffs and scrutiny
Of those obstinate practitioners of organized ignorance
You are the only one who should impose sanction on your life
Not some pretty news anchor
Who nods at the teleprompter with total belief
You all chase after superficiality like a poor animal
At the snap of some fat fingers
Call yourselves Pavlov’s pet
You fattened the hand that feeds you yourselves
Have you met the total of life’s offer
Have you looked at yourself in the mirror
And not seen cheap narcissism winking back
Self-imposed limits are acceptable to live by
A moratorium of thought is not
You have free speech
Now learn free thought
Explain the intricacies of a fast food drive through
To the children of Darfur
Explain how you didn’t want to learn how to finish your schoolwork
To the little girl who can’t afford to buy pencils for hers
She will tell you with chagrin how she aspires to be a writer and a poet
But can’t afford the books to help her help herself
You express yourself by exerting as little effort
While she isn’t able to put in the effort to express herself
It’s the ultimate irony
Religion ceased to be the ****** of the masses
When it got it reached one-million views
You all can ask where do I get off
And I will only smile and tell you how I am just like you
I watch the same TV
Eat the same food
Wear the same clothes
The only difference is you can be different
And by simply choosing to do so or not is a step in the right direction
You are your own Atlas
Carry your own world
Anyone else is just liable to drop it

-Onward! Forward!
Through the fields
Remnants of my optimism
Such high hopes
Carrying so much strife
-But they’re not that strong.
Thoughts dance with ideas of their own
They build up and spread their children
An ever-changing people
With an obstinate nature
Humanity defined by the ill by-products
Of the Human Condition
Fighting for control
-Wrong! Wrong! You’re all wrong!
Subjective morality
We won’t finish until we all think like ourselves
Sinners and saints are the same
-Crusade! Jihad!
God cringes in embarrassment
We live with our consequences
So much has changed
So much will change
It’s really the same

On those cool summer nights
We would walk through the grass
And our feet would get wet from the dew
I know my companions
Ever faithful
Who would never leave my side
As I would never leave theirs
As we walked through the darkness
Ever resolute
Determined to accomplish our self appointed task
To spread our word
To teach others what we have discovered in these trying times
And most of all to learn from those who came before
So that we may do the same when our children come to us

Eventually we will part when we finish
And each will turn to a different corner of this world
Where we will live out the rest of our lives with what we have gained
Ever thoughtful
Always aware in the back of our minds
Of that important message
That brief quip of unadulterated human wisdom
Built up piece by piece over the years
Like adding a fresh coat of paint to a living room wall
Until it is thicker than the point where the sky meets the ocean
Ever adamant
We will count down the days until the clock strikes us
Lying in bed next to our husbands and wives
Or alone with nothing but our thoughts and fears

Someday we will meet again
After we leave all we have
Like an old photo slid between two pages of a good novel
We will have moved through our story
After we read the epilogue of our predecessors so long ago
Ever wary
Our cast has played their parts
And whether we realized it or not
So did we
We will go with a cry or a whimper
With tears streaming down our faces
Or laughter in our bellies
We will make no mistake
We will go
Ever obedient
When we realize our privilege to open our eyes
We see all those familiar faces
All the others who felt what we all feel sometime in our lives
Who saw what we must do if we are to grow into something beautiful
We will smile with hope that we did all we could
And begin to dry our feet

The falling snow the uncomfortable cold
Time slowing down to a limp
And in this monochromatic landscape
Even souls are forced to face each other
And smile a mirror grin in the midst of a divorce
Fresh powder and gray skies falling around
Like the ivory and ebony of a baby grand
Careening to the ground with
Resolution
Determination
Desperation
And when it hits it will sound like good ideas that no one will speak
Tears freeze on the way down
They feel like tiny pinpricks
Like the little feet of insects who without mind or reason
Go about their days in bliss and without trepidation

In this place we can only follow those before us
The neat craters flattened out by heavy boots
Line the path in a one-two fashion
Marching along and over the backs of the ones who gave up
Thinking they are farther than anyone of us could be
And something as simple as an offered hand
Would melt the ice and snow.

Mind wanders through itself
Discovering memory and dry leaves
Living in terms of daydreams that will never come true

Ants crawls across my elbow
Flight achieved
My lack of focus is my Muse

What I want is
Command the universe with feeling
I am God in me

Courage morality even fate
Start to lose their meaning
When I rewrite their definitions

I build and destroy
I laugh and cry
My world

I walk through mazes
Curious to see what waits
All of this in me

Colours bleed and saturate
The air smells evocative
A comet falls through the sky

Brain storms and déjà vu
I rush to greet with a smile
And all of this in a blink

Reality to make my wish
I can not disagree
This is too much fun

*-I am free