twenty years later
marking two decades
I pause to think about
life’s trajectories

I know exactly
where I was
who I was with
what I was doing

I can’t say the same
with any assurance
about the location of
my current disposition

twenty years ago today
I was manning my
FT Info post
on the 18th floor
of WTC too
bashing away
on a clunky laptop
authoring a proposal
for an urgent sales call
at Lehman Brothers

when the blast went off
the concussive ******
rose through the building
like a undulating express train

i felt it enter my feet
bubbled up my legs
tangoed my coccyx
off its seat
shook my heart
clamored my arms
jumbled my brains

"*** was that!"
the lights blinked
then came back on
Patty said
“this is serious”
I said “yeah,,,
I’m busy....
go check it out”

the sirens sounded
but we still had power
i beavered away on my
LB solution

Patty came back
and the PA system
announced a mandatory
evacuation of the building
i put the finishing
touches on my
smart LB pitch
hit print and
off I went

in the hall
smoke was
leaking from
the elevator doors
wisps tickled the
ceiling
the lights
dimmed again
only emergency
illumination
lit the shivering
building

the stair wells
were clogged
with 104 floors of
workers slogging
downward

i was running
late for my
appointment
with big deal
destiny

i cut and dashed
my way downward
into the spiraling
morass

slicing past
the slow moving
old folks, nudging
recklessly inhibited
handicappers

i was running late
i was conscious of
expending time
as i flashed
by screamers
and hysterical
ladies twisting
ankles on bent
high heels
flopping
down the narrow
dim lit stairwell

i was out in
a flash

i emerged on the promenade
of the intercontinental hotel
a mass of shattered
glass sparkled in the
court below

a curious man
rousted from
his hotel
workout
stood next to
me in perspiration
tainted tees
shorts and
sneaks
flakes of
snow
drizzled down
onto his hairpiece
he said something
about the Pentagon
and concluded with
“this was bad'
and slipped away into
a squall of flurries
i took him
for CIA

my investigation
concluded
i had to make time
to be on time
i jogged
through the
swelling mass
of gagging trundlers

their face, running
noses and drooling
mouths splashed
in black paint soot

i was late
but i was making
good time
as i pushed up
Greenwich Street
a parade
of fire trucks
honked and blared
a salute to my
diligent march

arriving at my
destination
building security
whisked me away
"buildings closed
didn't you hear
the WTC was
bombed”

my analog
phone binged
“jimmy, where
are you?
are you alright?
the WTC was bombed?
why didn’t you call?
I’m so worried.”

My wife was tearing.

“I got an important
sales call. I’m doing
deals.  

I’m on my way...

Should i bring home
some Chinese from
Top Dik?”

Music Selection:
Clash: Rock The Casbah

jbm
2/26/13
Oakland

complexity
is your beauty
simplicity
your mystery
interdependence
sustains you

once upon a time
we dipped bowls
into your waters
and brought up
draughts of life

now
Skipjacks go
fathoms deep
into endless
depletion

charting
entangled
dead zones
broadening
into a sea of
inertness

your delicate
eco-essence tips
toward oblivion

effluvia farmers
layer mechanized
blankets of
nitrates on your
sunset shores
weaving
green tendrils
of algae blooms
strangling the
entanglements
of all links in
your miraculous
food chain

the EPA
proscribes
a Jenny Craig
pollution diet
to halt the
slaughter in
oxygen
challenged
dead zones
where rockfish
are garroted,
oysters get drilled
by screwworms
and azure tinted
soft shell *****
dance soft
shoe taps
lifting a tinny
chorus of sad
Piedmont Blues

the flat-lining
watersheds
voiceless
warnings
tremble
rocking the
purged nests of
screaming ospreys
in vocal protest
of a sinking
Tangier Isle
anointing it’s
tombstones
of unvisited
cemeteries with
multicolored
guano

fitting
alkaline
tributes
to the lost
inhabitants
and forgotten
languages
sinking into the
brine of gray
brackish tides

Delmarva’s fine
intra-continental
balance skewed
by the oozing
industrial swill
of Frank Perdue
chicken farms
ruling the roost of
sanctioned sustainability
tinging clear watersheds
of finger lakes
set in splints to
repair dislocations
and complex
compound fractures
that may never heal
again

Music Selection:
Taj Mahal: Fishin Blues

jbm
Oakland
6/7/12

there is no courage in dying
the inevitability of mortality
defeats all mortals

words do not evaporate
nor has a life ever been
ill spent

the ardor of love
transcends the spare
bits of temporal time
we are allotted

revealed truth is
immutable, reified
by the quill you so
aptly wielded

as you traverse
new landscapes
guided back to
the ***** of love

may your heart
be filled with
gratefulness

may your vision
remain keen

the universal mind
fills with questions
asking...

did you help the world
see with new eyes?

did you satiate a
hunger for understanding?

did thunder sound from
your melodious musings?

did your whispers bespeak
enigmatic revelations?

did you knock someone
off their horse with your
eclectic epiphanies?

did you fearlessly
love?

give selflessly?

speak honestly?

did you bind
the broken?

did you cleave
the separated?

did you repair
the breach?

did you shame
the arrogant?

did you burn effigies
of dogmas?

pierce the armor
of rust strewn ideology?

bury the corpse
of dead religions?

did you write
psalms of
affirmation?

did your
lamentations
sing the light
of hope?

did you transcend
the confines of banality?

caress the seduction
of beauty?

did you kiss
a love starved
world?

did you embrace
our common
afflictions?

rest easy my
brother

you did these things
and more

you did not
do these things
and more

your mortality is affirmed
in a sweet symphony of death

your words are
confetti sprinkled
upon the earth

each letter a seed
taking root, sprouting
a bloom of truth

a rich abundance
joyously harvested
in a celebration of
the courage of
your blessed life

Selah


Michael Reardon
left this earth 5/19/12
at the age of 56

Godspeed Beloved

Music Selection:
The Dubliners
Finnegan's Wake

jbm
Oakland
5/24/12

a snow falls upon us
blanching our being
in throes of starkness

silently we shiver
as crystallized tears
slice our eyes

icicles of
random fate
pierce our
hearts
shredding
the last strongholds
of youth blessed hope
draining reservoirs
of love into tepid
pools of blood
growing at our feet

our prayers fail
to keep the deadly
blizzards at bay
bearing this days
daily pestilence
ravaging the
fragile semblance
of our crumbling
humanity

what winds
bring this snow?

these terrible
clouds descending
upon us

drowns us in groaning
waves of desolation
with such startling
finality

for the children, teachers, parents and community of Newtown CT
Music Selection: Prokofiev, Peter and the Wolf

jbm
12/14/12
Savannah, GA

up on Boot Hill
the sun sets early

the soaked anguish
of grieving mothers
swaddled in
twilight's vestments
mourn the death
of another murdered
child

we roll our eyes
and speak in tongues
tiny prayers
incant
RIP

these reflexive bits,
our shattered votives
litter city boulevards
on each solemn
street corner
new alters
of desecration  
are erected
then despoiled with
the wasted wax of
misspent novenas

our extended families
are bloodlines of fear
spawning
prostrate men
tattooed with
multicolored pain
who refuse to cover
body marks
bespeaking epic tales
of sorrow,
divisions
countless separations
also marking
righteous reasons
of seething
resentments
eager to settle
accounts

sweet vendettas  
clever ambushes
carefully deliberated
for generations
by discordant clans
believing in malice
exalting guns

shared loss
is our
common
affliction

uniting everyone
in envelopes of sadness
becoming live
Dear John letters
bearing news of dearly
departed loves

atop the coffins
of dead children
votives pile high
with scrawled eulogies
of fevered graffiti
solemnly pledging
“gonna make someone suffer
gonna even the score
never forget you
RIP”

and we all die
looking stupid as hell

lamenting
love don’t rest in peace
hearing
it scream from the grave
witnessing
the hallowed earth
churning with revulsion
accepting the bitter ashes
of another dead child

for the love of you
is your funeral march

love don’t RIP
it stalks the tomb
of indifference

it mourns
the ambivalence
of its devaluation

it haunts the
day dreams
of what could
have been

it restlessly
flits among
the playgrounds
of our minds

cluttering the rooms
of our homes
with grief

up on Boot Hill
we clasp the
small hands
protruding from
shallow graves
groping to find
a graceful sleep
for love don’t
rest in peace

Stevie Wonder:
Love Is In Need of Love Today

Written to honor
Love Appreciation Day

jbm
Oakland
1/19/13

Hail to our Christian Nation!
bright light in a dark new world
all nations must become like us
our grand flag we gallantly unfurl

life, liberty and property
a God given natural right
America's rapturous exceptionalism
our birthright and celestial light

for Jesus came not in peace
he brandishes a sharp sword
the Prince of Peace a warrior
its the written holy word

the blessed founding fathers
moved by exalted holy spirit
manifests a divine constitution
with legal slaves for pious despots

forever we must remain vigilant
sentinels of freedom on the watch
poised to launch global drone strikes
righteous retribution is on the march

for we are a Christian nation
bespeaking prophecies of fear
gun sights our holy crosses
a good clean rifle always near

private property a sacred icon
acquisition of more things divine
what's yours is your gladness
but don’t ever covet what's mine

cause I got me a big six shooter
and a Bushmaster just to be sure
if a robber comes a knockin
I’ll drop him at the door

a nation rife with criminals
thieves steal, **** and rob
we pack em off to prisons
in cells forever to rot

cause rehabilitation is too costly
a perps resurrection is no sure bet
criminals are just animals anyway
something we shan’t ever forget

we prefer jails to public schoolin
spare the rod and spoil the man
schools teach secular humanism
blasphemes God’s creation plan

the idle takers are on welfare
make the hard working man poor
God helps those who help themselves
may His grace anoint me with more

when government overreaches
we got 2nd Amendment solutions
Wayne LaPierre a visionary prophet
markets a rise against the Union

we the people alone are righteous
America is one nation under God
Buddha, Allah and blue Krishna
false deities all Baal ‘s frauds

Oh holy of holies E Pluribus Unum
is a God in whom we most trust
our hearts forever invested
for our gold never turns to rust

whoa to jihadists and terrorists
who hate our American dream
mighty God will strike you down
Crusaders will smash your schemes

to all the Godless apostates
may you tremble with fear
Our God will surely smite you
you shall shed bitter tears

so onward Christian soldiers
as our boots troop on to heaven
may providence bless our Canaan
doing the will of the glorious Sovereign

Music Selection:  
Onward Christian Soldiers

Oakland
2/4/13

I am the grand central
swirling vortex of the known universe

pathway of consciousness
a worldwide metaphysical interconnection

hub of modernity’s magnificent  metropolis
prime mover of it's empowered citizenry

eye of a Mid-Atlantic megalopolis
bridging an expanse from Boston to DC
trajectories of an Acela Express
accelerates time, coheres a region

magnetic compass axis
gyroscopic core
web of iron rails
touches all
transcontinental
cardinal ordinates

my constitution of chiseled granite blocks
manifests steadfast immutability

opulent terminus of marbled underground railways
subconscious portals to inter-borough worlds


the Zodiac streaks across my painted heavens
splashing aspirational mosaics of
bold citizens onto universal canvasses
my exhalations burst galaxies,
birthing constellations
promising potentialities of
plenteous abundance
as a right of all
global citizens

transit vehicle for mobilized classes
of fully enfranchised republicans

my tendrils plunge deep into
cavernous drilled bedrock
firming an unshakable edifice
-a new rock of ages-

rails splay out to the
horizons farthest corners
northern stars, southern crosses
nearest points on a sextants reckon

I am the iron spine
of the globes anointed isle
I co-join Harlem and Wall Street
as beloved fraternal twins

commerce, communication and culture
is the electricity surging through my veins

the worlds towering Babel
rises from my foundations
the plethora of tongues
all well understood

I open the gateways of knowledge
guarded by vigilant library lions

route students and scholars to
the worlds most pronounced public schools

beatific Beaux Art is boldly scrawled on my walls
in dark hued blues sung in gaudy graffito notes

swanky patrons sip martinis,
nosh bagels with a smear and **** down
shucked lemon squirted oysters

reason, discovery and discourse tango
to the airs of Andean Pipe flutes
with violence and discordant dissonance
deep within my truculent bowels

I am the road to work,
a pathway to a career and
the ride to a Connecticut
home sweet home

my gargoyles and statuary laugh
at pessimistic naysayers

I am the station for
centurions, bold charioteers
homeless nomads and
restive masses

I stir a nation of neighborhoods
into a brilliant *** of roiling roux

beams of enlightenment
stream through colossal windows
today's epiphanies of the fantastic
actualize resplendent zeitgeists

sipping coffee in my cafe's
the full technicolor palette
of humanity is revealed;
civilizations history is etched
forever upon the mind

eight million stories
of the naked city is bared
as splendorous tragedy
it's comic march
of carnal being
exalted

a million clattering feet
scurry across marblized floors
polishing the provenance
burnishing a patina
exuding golden footprints

I am 100 years young and
thousand years away from
the crash of a demolition ball

Doric Columns and
elegant archways
coronate commuters
each day with a
new revelation of a
democratic vista

I am the grand central
my spirit flows as
one with the mass
in the vibrant
heart of our
throbbing city

Music Selection: Leonard Bernstein, On the Town

written to mark the 100th Anniversary of Grand Central Station


Oakland
2/8/13