.

Words from perforated ceiling tiles squawk
as megaphone filters blare
in crackled sequence
around missing stations
and call letters that aren’t acronyms

I hear these words, but shake my head
I know they are for me,
sent by well wishing advisors
wearing t-shirts imprinted
“I’m with stupid”

(and the arrows point at me)

Still I don’t heed the warnings,
I can’t, for dreams require reaching,
top shelf visions waving with
hope filled coupons
offering no discount for the heart

“Don’t want what you can not have,” they shout
As I continue to climb the frozen escalator,
cleaning my shoes on the bristles,
then checking my appearance in the sunglass
reflection of a mannequin missing one arm

(and I feel happy for this plastic person)

For it has no idea how it feels
to be out of style, yesterday’s sleeves
Worn of worried first impressions,
heart beat delusions and needs
at the end of the line…to check out

and yet, until the time comes for me to “check out”
I will not give up on that dream, regardless of
invisible sales clerks on their eternal breaks,
because I will reach that register and I will ask that question
to which she just might say yes,

(and then who will be wearing the t-shirt)

.

*I opened the rusted iron gateway
bound in chain and wire, to find a landing
caked in muddied footprints, scattered about like roaches
Magpie shadows course the rain soaked streets
and puddle patterns reflect temptation as light flickers
from second floor moan filled parlors, painted nails scratching

Navigating the fog entrenched alley, garbage bins fallen
create a maze of skinned shins and bloodied lips
when I come to an arched opening, only hinges remain
The staircase up is dark, creaking under my weight
I count the holes collected in plaster walls yawning,
prior frustrations showing no mercy

The stench of tar and factory waste wallows,
catching me stumbling through the opening to the roof,
gasping in the ever thinning air
Dark clouds retaliate for earlier lost days
when stale bread pudding was a treat
served to those of less fortunate standing

What life is this to lead anyway, empty pockets
and hand me down promises, watching shadows below
taking chances and knocking up opportunities
Red door, black door, be careful which you choose,
for one color leads to the lower city,
the underground where ***** flows like crazed sewage

The other holds within ****** fantasies
and red lipstick smudges,
but beware when jiggling those tarnished handles
with your best foolish grin,
the cost is what you can't afford to lose

Swine roam the busy square freely,
splurging on last night’s tossed garbage,
grunting approval in an off key symphony
of stringless digestion, slobering regurgitation
beyond the blinded eyes of the others
lost indefinitely within themselves

Street lamps spit hot oil through fractured glass
dripping onto the formal evening wear
and diamond brooches worn by the elite,
making their way to the opera house where marble steps
are lined with evergreen topiaries
losing needles to the addicts of the night

A carriage passes, glazed eyes peer from lace curtains,
hidden hands roam freely the velvet seats and occupants,
as painted wheels follow ruts in the worn cobblestone
Smoke spews from stained brick chimneys and cracking mortar
discoloring the moon and choking stars
with a filth to be reckoned with

I sit on this rooftop alone, looking down,
scarred legs dangling over the edge four flights up,
wondering if anyone would care if I jumped
When startled by a noise behind me, footsteps perhaps
I turn to see the beautiful silhouette of a woman, flowing hair,
hand extended, "I would," she whispers...

.

*I have written a dozen messages now
(probably more, no definitely more)
I word each one as carefully as I can,
telling you how much I miss you,
how lonely my days have been,
how I am doing ok (not really)
and I hope you are too,  
only to get to the bottom, the final line,
and typing out, I...well you know,
then stare at the screen and
think about it for a few minutes
before hitting delete…

wishing each time I did
it was me that disappeared

.

Laundry detergent
and love, broken hearted
Dark nights and witches
and dearly departed

Death in the front yard
with bright flowers blooming
Winter and summer,
all seasons are looming

Fireflies, evergreens,
balloons colored yellow
A beautiful woman,
an old grouchy fellow

The sun and the moon
and the stars that are shining
Laughter and teardrops,
occasional whining

Sunrises, sunsets,
the beach and the ocean
A walk in the park
or a magical potion

A bird on a fence
or a babe in a cradle
The dish and the spoon
ran away with a ladle?

*** that is sensual,
pain that is hurting
Humor and drama,
some things I am blurting

Long ones and shorts ones
and some in between
A king in a castle
defending his queen

Rhyming and free verse,
it’s endless and mounting
Ten words or haiku
and syllable counting

Written out stanzas
of how we are feeling
Even an orange
that someone is peeling

Riding a horse
or just crossing a river
Feathers and leaves
and all things that do quiver

So many thoughts
I have found that are waiting
Here on this site
there is no hesitating

To all the poets
with pens always bleeding
Thank you so much
for the poems I’m reading

For all of you
that I get to call friend
Here is a poem for you
I have penned