Father Time grounds his Sun's dial
by an ocean of hot sand,
his world inside an hour glass galaxy
spiraling downward
like a blue feather from a jay in a baobab
the mirage a lake, an eerie oasis throbs,
fuzzed by heat's blurriness.
Einstein peers through invisible specs
his peers skeptical of what he suspects
questions answered by questions
matter no longer matters
in accordance to my flannel pattern,
an arid desert spreads our earth,
Whitman's witnesses,
your songs causes gasps
in every plant's lungs
not just the grasses.
May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 at 5:10 PM UTC
My bones are rusted,
leaky pipes
in that back alley
on Howard street
where my windows eye
twenty-somethings
shootin' the breeze
over whatever issue glides
through their mind at the time,
cutting their own kite strings
with scissor-sharp fingernails
they unwind,
conjoining over joints,
the fun times.
Where'd my friends go?
I feel heavy-headed,
elbows sore from resting
my cinder block chin
on them for hours,
watching these hooligans
in tye-dye rags
flutter down
the gutters of King street
like circus clowns.
And cirrus clouds
wander through
and over Boone
while I hunker,
disregarding the news,
the **** protesters
arrested by the blues
and I can't help
but hum along
with a gold finch
perched on a rhododendron
growing by my side
wall where some
graffiti artist
sprays the word
“Exist.”
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 6:59 PM UTC
I came to a canyon
one autumn evening,
parched.
I was deserted
on one side,
distant from you in
sienna barrenness,
amongst bubbling grey boulders.
I felt desperate, like a beetle
being squished between rattler jaws,
fangs of fate chewing out chances to grow,
to fully bud above the rest,
to push past the heat
like cacti greeting the purple sunset sky.
You were on the other side
making the grass wave in your wind,
painting hills with dainty dandelions
and dancing mushrooms,
to cover up the reeking decay
of your last relationship,
the decomposition
of dear flesh,
of rotten opportunity,
the true will of degeneration
still not stopping your junipers and ferns.
And in the middle,
below the drama,
time’s rushing river
worms it’s way through rock,
forcing chasm, yet
somehow encourages flourishing,
and quenches our thirst.
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 6:58 PM UTC
I made you an origami crane at noon
It didn't flap right away but I knew
it would only take time then grace
because that night we laughed
at its silhouette in the moon.
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 12:22 AM UTC
Liars taught him the truth
barely funded,
rarely fun did happen
In a school for public use.
We're just used
to being misinformed.
He can't tell
An adult from a tadpole
A saint from a slave
A *** from an *******
A bowel from a colon
or a Powell from a Castro
A drug from a neuron
or a genius from a *****
Feb 21, 2016
Feb 21, 2016 at 12:44 AM UTC
I know you've thought about it,
how we caught wind of dreams
whooshing
waking
you thinking.
Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 6:26 PM UTC
theres a black house on a mountain
above my little town
shotgun shells and loose bear claws
abound there
native burial grounds civil war zones
may deliver shivers into timid worn bones
scores of poor folks shown bullet holes
bully knolls, knock
and cranny crows fully cloaked, no
murderous demeanor
curious endeavors
set out to devour delirious achievers
chinese demons of gun powder delete us
steel wool money allowed to be cleaned up
the smell of drier sheets and powerful *****
floods a laudr-o-mat in the center of oakland, um
I'm a monkey
pushin buttons and envelopes
in order to get numb and comfy
justly love me please
give a hug or just punch me
right eye has
extra long lashes
despite the montage
of violent masses
my orange sports watch
barely works
childish hashmarks
picture richard scary verse
pirating various scenes to flush the corporate
down a toilet bowl of worthless
hoofing it to your door step
5000 miles to proclaim that its gorgeous
seeing your face from across a birds nest, heard that
word
I'm sure your begging to know
the offering, my offspring
was born long ago
where the land is coughing
stock tips glow
like uranium springs
in the valley of kings
where deathly hollows
shadow willow trees.
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 12:57 AM UTC
Aced fables rake faces into a pile
grimaces tend to fend off soft smiles
when considering the future
sure, keep it to yourself for good
in the attic with dusty ornaments
as long as someone adorns the fence
with ugly colored ribbons
your intentions mean jack
why bother big brother, give it up
mowed over opinions
ending in shoveled dirt, delicious.
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 12:29 AM UTC
I want you, except
not in the possessive sense--
more within every sense:
to draw in the scent
of your coconut and lemon skin,
to hear the faint, tranquil
sound of your frank sentences,
which, as the taste of your lips,
takes days to truly comprehend,
to drench my fingertips in
the soft light of your hair, golden,
to see the sight of your earthy eyes,
leading me to think the world is in
your head
and we're all lucky beings
trudging through thick swamps
just to get stuck
in this moment
with you.
Jan 5, 2016
Jan 5, 2016 at 4:12 PM UTC
I see a sad lad dragging regret through downtown
(not homeless, but houseless, aftermarket crashes)
staggering through shadowy alleys;
black cats laughing at him
in his fashionable tattered jacket
as a fat rat scampers from behind a trash can
he peers into it dazzled to dig up anything that can
help have his scattered thoughts gathered
cigarette butts and ash, ragged magazines,
a half eaten apple to share with his rat friend
none of it matters,
he feels like Aladdin,
he treats his ****** street like a palace
he'd rather be free than happy. is that madness?
Dec 26, 2015
Dec 26, 2015 at 2:56 AM UTC