sitting by the window.
with the sounds of some nondescript
parisian accordion sounding
bourgeoisie muzak playing overhead.
all the while I write poetry in a coffee shop.
*******
this may be the trite-est of ironies
any explanation would not be weight bearing
for this ridiculous setting.
only suitable for student films,
with a beret on top.
who by no fault of their own
originate in new york
by way of black and white paree.
cigarettes and drowsy violins,
odd bedfellows and conjoined twins.
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 7:57 PM UTC
1.
I feel
fractured splintered defeated
entirely insular
and spread to thin
all at the same time
covered with insecurities
like a cheap suit
or hollow exoskeleton
nothing more than a lie. I grow tired.
I'm bluffing my way through this life
a brutal honesty
I lack the courage to accept
hiding my face
from every mirrored surface
a halfhearted attempt
to prolong this detrimental denial.
I can't ******** my way
through self-reflection
and trying to improve my image
feels positively improvised.
I lack sincerity and authenticity
an individual breathing without zeal
I need a break.
2.
Here I am again a lonely itinerant migrating
to the proverbial and often visited crossroads
rather than contemplating
a direction worth navigating
be it following in the worn footprints of others
or a path long overgrown with neglect.
I'd rather lie down on the gravel road
and nap in the open air
just to wake up confused and temperamental.
The destination remains unknown
my indecision remains intact.
I give impetuous a bad name
by reputation and repetition alike
conjoined twins that speaks to
fate and circumstance.
Like Houdini
I'm secured in a long sleeve shirt
dangling upside down from a burning rope
placing blame on the flame.
I need a break.
3.
I'm not as intelligent
or insightful as I once thought
my wasted youth is a testament.
A modern ruin
like so many a Blockbuster
I've outlasted my usefulness.
I imagine what could have been
clueless as to what lies ahead.
A jovial repentance
seems as likely as
success, or stability, **** simplicity.
Is it all too much to ask?
I've been on break too long.
4.
reboot jumpstart
Alleviate my stagnant, vacant lot in life
and cast off these first world problems.
Consider not the flat champagne
or the distance that separates
today from death.
Speak positively to the people
that would not otherwise attract minimal attention.
Set goals both grand and plausible
with no worry of dividends
and release cynicism
and determine a trajectory
that I may see through to completion.
If for no other reason
but to say that I tried.
It's not so bad this imagined and dire circumstance.
Relax and go on break.
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 7:48 PM UTC
words enter to my mind
empty and useless
incapable of producing
the proper empathy
necessary for nites like these
powerless platitudes
rattle between my ears
as the echo of rotor blades
hover over the homes
of a quite city in mourning
watery eyes are afflicted
with double vision
aching for sleep
yearning for rest
Dec 17, 2012
Dec 17, 2012 at 2:22 AM UTC
a genius metaphor
that displays wit and insight
is more a matter of inspiration
than of the will
I did not experience
the PCH a day removed
if not for the use of a muse
is the sun nothing more
than a mass of flammable gas
or perhaps a nuclear gumball
leisurely crushing the horizon
radiant backlit heavenly body
meets with a pacified body of water
for a consensual coitus
orange and purple
two thirds of
the secondary color wheel collide
panoramic dusk in the rear view
as the moon prepares to mount the sky
gathering waves like a shepherd
lazy tides that vacation on sandy beaches
beaches that conceal mysterious truths
beneath cold infinite grains
tucked inconveniently between my toes
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 12:07 PM UTC
I could never find the words to say
not a simple joke or steadfast vow
that would ever ease or comfort you
still ashamed that I don't know how
when the lights were off we'd dare not speak
naked anxious bodies tangled
uncertain hands search for the right angle
sweat and tears taste the same
the air was always stale after we shared a bed
silent, intimate without a thought in my head
truth is we were never meant to last
like a cigarette burned away to ash
been years since last we spoke
it's not like we ever did
I'm relieved that your gone
no need for such a friend
I could never find the words to say
that would keep you content and at my side
that would ever ease or comfort you
I said nothing perhaps I should have lied
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 12:04 PM UTC
did you ride a dirt road to work today?
no, your tires glided across
the pock marked *** holed streets that are paved
and if you feel that you bought the cement, asphalt, and tar
then I guess we all owe you a round of applause
because you did this all by yourself no help right
can you eat a sandwich while waiting for the bread to rise?
or maybe your parents and mine grandparents and the like
paid a fair adjusted tax rate so we could have these streets and lights
the hospitals to heal and schools to educate
filled with people who work jobs you didn't create
and the socialist programs that make you so sad
have you been to a socialist country? we don't have it so bad
it's not fair you scream
the redistribution of wealth you haven't earned
that's their problem why are you so concerned
have you elevated your status and YTD to a quarter of a mil
or are you just like the rest of us just crawling uphill
there’s not a single person you know that sits on the Forbes' list
and if there is then this question might make you ******
did you do all you could for the greater good
or did you focus your off shore funds on your laurel resting brood?
is your deductible charity limited to the parish of your choice?
it's not like the whole world should be privy to your voice
if you read these words and think loaded with liberal bias
opinion is within our rights but maybe you might just
review these criticisms and see if they apply to the life that you lead
would you still co sign or even agree with the grand ole party
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 11:59 AM UTC
little yellow teeth
stained by years of coffee and cigarettes
layered like sedimentary rock
wire brush mustache
on a face that betrays his years
a reflection of a potential that went unrealized
such an angry man
even his words are burdened
with equal parts guilt and rage
"do as I say kid"
"because I said so"
he must view himself a tough, strong man
despite being an upper middle aged diabetic
possessing a physique
that calls to mind a woman in her third trimester
his bitterness, his depression, his emptiness
permeated every layer of life
imagine a son
who grew up confused, frightened
not knowing when, how, or why
a display of aggression would occur
wildly disproportionate to whatever perceived transgression
my sins weren't fictional, i needed better representation
a one-by-two
a measurement of lumber
wrapped in athletic tape
an display, a warning readily available
a disciplinary tool for any occasion
when broken across my ***
a lesson was given but rarely learned
we never communicated then
we barely speak now
if only for the lack of something civil to say
should platitudes serve as a father and son bond
then our collective stubbornness is worth a mention
if blame needs placing
and i was taught this behavior
can i learn to forgive and love
such a below average model for God?
right on cue
his catholic upbringing screams in my ear
and my irish rises
an irish familiar to him
the only thing we share
he could have kept that to himself
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 11:52 AM UTC
1.
you smile
as the moon falls through the blinds
landing on your olive tones
sending chills throughout my bones
Weary
you can disarm me so well
too free with that knowing glance
for this is a novice romance
Watching
you dream, even the garden
gnome i stole can't help but stare
as you lie there without a care
Beseech
the sandman to keep his distance
his success will separate us
in the land of Nod we are lost
2.
dawn breaks
through the clouds with the sound of thunder
and threatens to tear us asunder
under the bedding
we could be sweating
betting i would take the day off
just to keep you here in my loft
scoff then if you must
this isn't mere lust
trust is a three way stop on a two way street
these words fall to the floor as i rise to my feet
agreed i'll leave and grab us some brunch
white wine cheese and some pears to munch
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 11:40 AM UTC
I write words
which are guilty by association
a biased vanity
a weakened proclamation
a rhyming confession
vaguely detailed obsession
which preys upon my idle mind
occupying my excess time
if I could just
relish
this coffee scented existence
like Marley I won't wait in vain
my character was built
on inconsistent persistence
with all of my offenses
its no wonder you present such resistance
hesitance for an obvious reference
midnite will arrive on its own terms
may it come in waves
I'm emotionless and starved
hoping for the best and the rest is reality
its a stoic majestic bleak perspective
resplendence can't be bought with a sixpence
when innocence is subjective
acutely disputed and often refuted
everybody is down on their knees
echoes throughout empty halls
empty hearts exposed to loosely associated truths
and poorly conceived metaphors
a malcontent in mismatched boots
equally disinterested with
the feelings and good intentions
or any other invention of idle minds
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 11:21 AM UTC