"airline" poems
~for those who will read this and weep~
*the quiet ones,
the silent Job ones,
who quote not from the
Book of Lamentations,
but author their own,
based on-the-job experience
localized versions of cryptic elegiacs
accepting the wooden crosses borne,
stepping up to the
unrequested unforeseen,
then buried under, burnt alive,
yet never relieved by dying,
nailed by words, stronger than iron,
promises sworn, promises kept
with no ending date relief,
promises by and to themselves,
but not for themselves!*
*the wearers of crystal glass shackles,
adorned with decorative locks for which
no key did the maker make,
nor any divine creator
dare conceive an early release,
never no escape contemplated,
for the lock human, unrepentant unbreakable,
a decorative useless metaphor gesture,
a blunt “life ***** advertisement
I compose amidst a
bus pond of mismatched city folk,
a tapestry of ages colors and differing views on god/no god,
none would believe that as the bus sways me,
it’s in rhythm to holy choral music,
hundreds year old,
divinity masses and motets worships,
where one human can hide temporarily
a safe house,
to calm his questioning relentless
from the horrors of no answers,
for when the mind has no solution
to the rough and tumbling lives,
lived in glass shackled confinement,
the poets desperation equals theirs*
*summon eagles to transport these imprisoned,
but the shackled refuse,
I come to them but they wave me off,
I go crazy for once I was enslaved,
thirty years war that left devastation,
from which so many poems created
so I speak with heightened regard
of one who planned futures for others where his
non-existence was a founding father (ha!)*
*but the day came and
I was released by my own inactions,
but means nothing until a way to
away found
to release the yet bound early*
got a couch, airline miles, hundred dollars
in my pocket and an unrelenting need
to save them, a consumption disease,
the glass shackled, at ease,
won’t rest till all are freed
this my creed
no one left behind
these cyber words do not mock
for they are unbounded, set free,
when
the flesh connects and the needs of the flesh
are stronger for they are in heart conceived
Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 5:45 PM UTC
An Airline we want you to boost
We travel coast to coast
We are not an Airlines being most
It’s friendship in the skies
Our Flight Attendants are the ones who advise
We extend our serious welcome even at the flight’s end
Friendship Airlines is about bringing passengers together
We are not like our other airlines competitors being the other
From the minute you sit in your seat
Your seat also elevates your feet
It’s that take off from the runway
Knowing that you are on vacation and you need our getaway
Our packages will add to your stay
Then it is within flight hours of your arrival
We care about the passengers we serve
It’s quality service that all our passengers deserve
Fly Friendship Airlines with the logo handshake way
It will be pure satisfaction in what you will say
Friendship Airlines being your friendly tip
There will be times when the plane might dip
Just remember our Pilots will be in control
Our friendly skies with a look of behold.
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 4:52 PM UTC
Over staffed and under fed
Spanish waiters
rush around with
waistcoats of wisdom
wearing black shoes
of sordid shift-work soles.
They greet and speak to every new
tourist, and regular, as if a
brother, sister, mother, second-cousin-twice-removed
stepmother, yet really they are:
the ephemeral fodder of the
cheap, low-cost-airline,
the flash and it’s gone spine of most cities
on the map,
the ‘Sorry, I left it in a Barcelona Café, could I get it back on insurance?’
baseball cap, that most sightseer marionettes wear, back to front,
the standing in line, waiting to complain,
tourists that know nothing of decorum.
So the Spanish waiter served me my coffee
and whispered in my ear,
‘Disfrutar de su día senor’,
that was,
'Enjoy your day Sir’.
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 11:00 AM UTC
How many chairs have we parked ourselves on,
side by side
in these 6,205 days of marriage?
Side by side at our wedding reception
principals’ offices
school graduations
courtrooms
funerals
new baby nurseries
counselors’ offices
new cars and
bars.
In lawn chairs
pews
rockers
couches
backseats and
airline seats.
The size and shapes of the imprints
we leave behind
changing over time.
The faces of others seated with us coming and going.
Always, we have tried to leave a trail of love,
like the slime of slugs and snails.
And for each other, an extra measure.
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 6:32 PM UTC
Sometimes I imagine what it would be like to sleep in a bed with no sheets in the corner of an empty airline hanger.
Eating ***** is oblivion to millions,
regardless of politics.
I don't cry when I watch the evening news.
Pictures from my 4th birthday party,
when I turned 3,
make me cry...
...for 1 spermatozoa.
When my co-creators' closed eyelids told me my grandfather had finally passed,
I remembered that I forgot how to make Mac & Cheese.
Time runs on batteries.
But when machines grow to match us,
they will one day pass a law against the consumption of sentient planets.
Still,
some will do it anyway.
And even if they have televisions in space,
I still won't cry.
Because we are all machines.
Jul 7, 2012
Jul 7, 2012 at 6:01 PM UTC
JEALOUS
Poem lyrics dedicated to Karkjinbba
in memory of pjc-rkrdd interstellar
Traveler on another mission.
~~~~~~
'm jealous of the rain
That falls upon your skin
It's closer than my hands have been
I'm jealous of the rain
worshipping in ground as you may walk on splattering all down
I'm Jealous of the waves at sea that rock your boat with her not me
spilling out on you our old wine reserved for us to spill on each others unintended wounds
I'm jealous of the wind
That ripples through
your clothes;
the exotic perfume aromas
you bought for me alone
but now she wears.
along with my diamond heart ring.
I'm Jealous of the way she combes her hair each night
looking in our ancient
mirrored vanity desk
While you looking at her
moon light to guide
may you look at me
my stary constellation
sky high glide
I am jealous of the tennis rocket
you swing to her meant
to swing back to me
Darling;
it's closer than your shadow
left behind to comfort me.
Oh, I'm jealous of the air you breathe in the same room, with her alone dancing to songs
and tunes meant for us two alone
on your master lovely bedroom;
moving dancing rdd/bba style!
Still I wish you the best
all this world could give
Love of my life.
I wouldn't sacrifice my love and life for you again though;
instead, I would, earn your love,
right back forgive me sweet love divine elite great among great,
peace be with you
As I told you when you left
In every lifetime for another girl,
you leave me
all I wanted was an airline ticket
to fly to you in Carol Lumbard's skin
Dear runner mine
poverty was my foe I couldn't chase.
but I always thought you'd come back,
or even pick me up
on your limousine
for a joyful ecstacy filled ride!
Telling me all you found without me was heartbreak and misery!
Because darling that's all I found
without you.
It's hard for me to say,
I'm jealous of the way
You're h a p p y without meeee.
I'm jealous of the nights
That I don't spend with you
watching the billion stars from our bedroom bed with your patpapa
Aquarius and my Aries telescope.
I'm wondering
who you lay next to!
Oh, I'm jealous of those sacred nights.
I'm jealous of the love
your love that was all mine
gone for someone else to share.
I'm jealous of the love
cause I wished you too
the very best
all this world could give.
~~~~~~~
For Karijinbba
By: Kear and Natalie Hemby.
06-11-2020
Copy Rights.
Jun 12, 2020
Jun 12, 2020 at 1:32 AM UTC
If only we could fly like
those that tweet or hoot
without aid of jet or
parachute
For I sure don't like
wings that boom and roar
just so they can take off
and soar
Ah, to fly without petrol, diesel
or fuel
Oh, to halt that taloned midair
duel *
Birds they don't pollute
the air
nor need they any airline
fare
So if only I too could rise
and glide
and let the wind be my
sole guide
I'd be happy to fly all the
way to 'em' faraway stars
if I was assured I'd risk
no charring scars.
Flying without aviation
formalities
I could be sightseeing
many more cities
Ah I so wish to fly just
like a jay or jackdaw
Then I'd fly across all and
every border
For I'd know nor follow
no man-made law!
If only we needed no darned immigration pass or visa
We could have visited so many more touristy places
Say even the spectacular and popular pyramids of Giza
And we could have known different cultures and races
Ah, a stylish photo next to the leaning tower of Pisa
And return with exotica like a framed pic of the Mona Lisa
Feb 26, 2019
Feb 26, 2019 at 12:20 PM UTC
Last night they checked my garbage can.
It’s a good thing that I have a shredder.
My cell phones records are of interest-
I’ve made calls to known “tea baggers”.
Warrant-less “burglaries” have been made,
then I find my screen door broken.
The I.R.S. just called again
my case has been “ reopened”.
On every airline trip I take
I’m “Caressed “by the T.S.A.
I’m almost ready for a cigarette
after they’ve had their way.
Such harassment is “kinder spiel”
compared to what comes next.
They have a “brain wave” scanner
that can translate thoughts to text.
So I wear a cap of aluminum foil
whenever I’m on American soil.
To protect my ideas before they find them
I always make sure to copyright them.
Jan 16, 2012
Jan 16, 2012 at 8:18 AM UTC
I'm eating bean and cheese,
Suicide bomber attacks airline;
I spill some salsa
And the body count isn't in yet.
There is no suspense here,
Just tacos and the horrible news;
I change the channel
And look for my huevos rancheros,
Terror does not exist anymore
But the salsa stain remains.
Jul 17, 2016
Jul 17, 2016 at 3:41 AM UTC
There is power within the people.
Not the politicians.
Witness this political climate.
Federal employees on furlough without pay.
TSA employees calling out.
But it was the airline traffic controllers that could have halted it all.
Not a single plane could take flight.
While the elected fools fight.
No pay, no work.
Even the president protection squad could halted his travel.
With just the phase for your safety sir stay within the White House.
ANOTHER SIGN THAT THE POWER IS WITHIN THE PEOPLE.
The group always proposing walls and segregation camps?
Should be the ones assigned to feel the agony of the hurt and pain.
Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 12:27 AM UTC
I remember sitting
On the tiny porch
Of my dad’s home
Offended by the sun
That continued to sink and set
Without pausing to acknowledge
My dad’s passing.
Offended by the cars
That continued on the highway;
Callous indifference, it seemed to me.
Even the birds at their feeder
Greedily fed and failed to look up
To mark the loss of their benefactor.
I found myself
Silently demanding condolences
In every encounter.
Not for the sympathy,
Or worse, pity,
But for the acknowledgement
That he was here
And now he’s gone,
And something,
However infinitesimally small
In the scopeless universe,
Has changed.
I have two cousins.
The first called my dad
Every month.
His regular call came
During the last days.
The decline surprised him.
He took a deep breath
And asked for speakerphone
Near my dad.
He told my dad
How much my dad had
Influenced his life;
How as a child,
he anticipated a visit from my dad
Like kids stay up to see Santa;
How my dad made my cousin feel
Like he was the most important kid
In the wide world;
How my dad gave my cousin
The otherwise unavailable
Sustenance of heart
Young boys need;
How my cousin had strived to be
Like my dad
And how he hoped
His own children see in him
What he saw in my dad.
That was acknowledgement,
Profound acknowledgement.
My second cousin called
Shortly after the first.
He had heard
That my dad was dying.
He did not ask
To speak with my dad.
He wanted to tell me
To call him
As soon as memorial
Arrangements were made
So that he could purchase
Discounted airline tickets,
To include a subsequent visit
To his son who lives
In the southern part of the state.
My dad was still living.
That, too, acknowledged something,
And served to impel my pending decision.
So I opted for
A less conventional
Memorial ritual
That required neither
Plane tickets nor attendance
Nor a frozen smile reception.
I would not suffer
Insincere acknowledgement.
I am sure I scandalized
Many acquaintances of my dad
Who enjoyed the social conventions of
The anticipated gathering
If only to point out the deficiencies
Of the event and the host.
I am sure I offended
And frustrated
And embittered
One of my cousins.
The other cousin thought
My dad would have preferred
Sincerity
Over a pantomime.
I would suffer
The disfavor and distaste
Of the discontented
With no difficulty.
Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 9:59 PM UTC
Ms. Cho is so, so sorry
for the unintended worry
and the dreadful social uproar
she created
when she rated
her airline’s services as poor.
But any self-respecting South Korean
would understand the shame
when the macadamias came
not in a china dish
for this salty snack delish
was placed calmly on her tray
the cabin crew would say
resplendent in their jackets
“The nuts are served in packets
vacuum-sealed to keep them fresh.”
Hyun-ah proud and haughty
wagged her fingers, called them naughty
and summoned forth the Chief of all the crew
demanding that he tell her if he knew
if the in-flight rules were being followed
or was it in anarchy they wallowed.
He stumbled and he stuttered
swallowed, then muttered
he’d never thought this matter
was the least bit earth shattering.
“Nuts in a bag, are you insane?
You must be taken off this plane”
True to her word the flight turned round.
Until they landed not a sound
was heard within the cabin of that plane.
He was dropped back at JFK
and after some delay
they made their way again heading east.
But arriving eleven minutes late
Ms Cho had definitely sealed her fate
Notwithstanding Daddy’s power
as the airlines CEO
relations turned quite sour
his daughter forced to go
She lost each and every perk
that accompanied her work
her executive pay
all lost – such is the way.
So, finally in sum
Beware of a Cho tantrum
when you see that charming face
remember she’s a nut case
who in shrill and angry voice
made a devastating choice.
Never change an airline schedule
Never let your plane be late
Never waste expensive jet fuel
Or suffer Ms. Cho’s fate
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 7:53 AM UTC
My father lit a cigarette and smoked the room up
with choked circles,
he rewrites every woman
he sees,
metamorphosis asunder,
because nothing is on tv.
My mom was hauled blindly
away from love to evening's riverbed
--to **** the fear of
correction away.
Birds talk about fish
that fly in airline crusades, gobbling up wise owls.
Blossom talons pluck
--up their words,
the closest a lie can come to the truth
and be set in stone None of them
will be remembered
the way they want to. footnote retribution.
The wandering dead only care about
modeling on the covers
of psychology magazines--hailing reviews that digest indulgence
beautifully,
carving chocolate waists
down
to starvation--we melt away to gnats
in Prozac hives
shingled with academic love papers
& bible covers.
Dear Alice,
you stole our table of tea, our shaved vigil,
our western rodeo,
our alcoholic omega.
Midnight on the dishonored battlefield
with the scythe beneath us,
we murmur love back into
our sheets of high horror.
Your meteorite adultery could not wipe
this hard drive clean--what we would lose...
the things we cannot touch.
Cloud 9 LSD,
its warriors passing
weapons down to the flock's ashes--to wives who fear
the wrath of their husbands. Chlorine gills quit
cold turkey
--sinks overfill under unorthodox skies--the turning of centuries
is nothing like flipping
pennies
into wishing wells.
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 3:05 AM UTC
Och, you and your divine shape
How beautiful you are to me
You drive me wild with want
I simply cannot master you!
You are oft'times hard to get
But nary shall I quit you
Tune my heartstrings up a notch
Fret forever, I try to get it right
You quiver exquisite at my touch
A ravishing delight to my ravenous senses
Would you GIVE a STAR for my attempts
Don't over tease my nerves to distraction!
I slave intense o'er you, day and night
Yes, you're the one with the hold on me
Look at the inevitable shape I'm in
All 'cause-a you and your curvy shape!
The airline broke your sister's neck
Yah mon, I cried, mah Lord. I all but died, ha!
Caught in a quagmire of deep distress
You, my comely cutaway, pegged me up again.
Love to cradle you on my eager lap
My arms around in close embrace
A gentle, organic creature, such as you
I dare not grip you hard at all.
My fingertips so acquainted with your girth
Your rosette rings out my notes with charm.
Enchanting me with deep nuance
Without trying, she pleases so!
The sole bridge 'tween the world and me
My subtle love, only my Valencia.....
S T, 04 Avril 2013
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 9:54 AM UTC
Through the gaps in the airline-style seating
I catch glimpses
snapshots
of her face
(or at least,
Its constituent parts)
An almond eye, subtly lined
a rise of cheekbone, flushed but unblushed,
and half of her smile
directed at me?
And I feel like Picasso
piecing together
the jigsaw piece sections
from an altered perspective
and seeing her whole
as beautiful.
Aug 29, 2011
Aug 29, 2011 at 7:22 AM UTC
Sailing over white fluffy clouds in an aluminum tube
The occasional glimpse of earth thirty thousand feet below
A muted roar as mighty engines drive us through sky
Just over a hundred years ago only birds could fly
But modern jet propulsion drives man to greater heights
Over soaring mountain peaks that man has yet to climb
Effortless we cruise through a world of space and time
The trolley dolly does her rounds with over priced plastic wrapped food
Later she'll be back again with over priced duty free goods
I study my fellow passenger, coming from every walk of life
Some are single, some are married, SOME with another mans wife
Crammed in shoulder to shoulder, strangers on every side
A typical budget airline holiday and a budget airline ride
Soon once more we'll touch the ground, with a hidden sigh of relief
But we all will do it yet again, in a year, a month, or maybe in a week
Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 2:08 PM UTC
My most persistent friends
have become six hours of jetlag
and the fading buzz of airline coffee--
as black and unforgiving as our red-eye flight,
as we wander German streets-- Füssen,
where the air is always crisp
and graceful, even awkwardly emerging
from an ugly winter.
Neuschwanstein castle sits mockingly
in the horizon-- the locals pass it by,
as I, some baffled foreigner
from Nowhere, Ohio,
where the streets bear gas stations
and the shameless scars
of recent construction (always
building, nothing built)
stand in disbelief.
Our thirst brings Jenny
and I to a Getränkeladen --
I sip on my first taste
of Apfelsaftschorle
as a roaring crowd
of local teens barge in,
with the violence of
a tornado we'd see in Xenia...
They speak in a crude,
indistinguishable slang
that Frau never could have
taught us
in room 322
Jenny hovers mindlessly
by the door-- contemplating
a bottle of Coca-Cola,
as the teenage stampede
shoves her off to the side--
fleeing out the door,
having bought nothing,
as the storekeeper sighs in disbelief.
They tore through
such a quaint little shop
with such an aimless recklessness,
one wouldn't think
a centuries-old castle
looms nonchalantly in the distance...
I was thirteen years old
and clueless--
Ben, who I believe is now
in juvie, and Ryan
stand on either side--
dumpy teenagers
in baggy clothes,
speaking in a crude,
brutal slang
that was invented in its usage.
We loitered every street
that would tolerate us,
in these exhausted Ohioan
suburbs, we tore through sidewalks
bearing unremarkable houses
in a sleepy neighborhood
with no grand castles nearby.
Our lazy strides, our ******
banter-- from Füssen, Germany,
to Who Cares, Ohio--
whether there's Neuschwanstein
or a Speedway to conquer,
there's never anything to do at home.
So wie ist das Leben...
May 16, 2012
May 16, 2012 at 9:09 PM UTC
Hey, honey
who did you **** to get into this party?
The whole wide world
is watching the same skin flick,
******
tickled
and slick
with scummy scrangjjjjjj
scrangggjjjjjjjj
that's code for *****
in some ancient Indoasian
dialect
you only ever heard from Indiana Jones.
I slip and slide into
her *****
in my backyard
in the middle of my tenth birthday party
and it's warm,
it's warm and safe
and I like it here.
I like it everywhere.
Humidity is the closest thing
I have to a God
there's a forest of ***** hair
growing on the bathroom rug.
I'm sorry that you had to walk on it.
My little brother's
got eyes in the back of his head,
they blink and look around
and you have got to watch your back around him
because he's fast
as a ************
too.
Today I am concerned about
the price of oil
not because I drive
but because my fictional wife
stops putting out
the minute it hits four dollars.
You've got an awfully perdy mouth
for someone who just got hacked to pieces.
I'd like to frame your lips
if you'd let me,
that would be nice,
right above my fireplace,
on the mantle,
next to the ******* cutouts
I've been saving since I was seven.
Is it glue that's holding them together,
God I hope so
because everyone keeps touching it
whenever they come to visit.
Come.
To visit.
haha
I like to laugh,
laughter is medicine for the soul,
Chicken Soup
for the Pre-Teen's Soul
is really just full of
**** anecdotes
but the kids don't tell their parents that,
why do you think they sell so well?
I'm a *******
something
****
I've run out of ideas
at this point in time
it's getting awful hard
to continue my schoolwork
because
let's face it
one can only learn about
bonds
so many times
before the skin
from ones' face
starts to peel
off ones' skull
and slide into ones' hands
and fall onto ones'
***** carpet.
It stares up at you
accusingly,
no eyes,
and it speaks.
"What's the deal with airline food?"
you
me
we
say.
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 2:05 PM UTC
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
My version of life ... how I see it.
To everything there is a season,
And a time to dance a time to sing
A time to go the carnival, a time to wave your flag
a time to go to church, a time to kneel down and pray
A time to walked, a time to go jogging through the woods
a time to buy airline ticket, a time to fly away
a time to cast your vote, a time to revoked your vote
a time to make love, a time to relax and take it easy
a time to dream big, a time to follow up on those plans
A time to trend, in a time of uncertainty
a time to buckle down and a time free up yourself
A time for demonstrating, a time to showed leadership
a time to be happy, a time to be sad,
A time to pull the trigger, a time to seize fire
A time for karma, a time for a relaxing and calm night
Apr 9, 2017
Apr 9, 2017 at 11:33 AM UTC
She smiled, looked up at him, and quickly kissed his cheek.
Then turned and walked away from the turmoil of the week,
Her crystal blue eyes moistened as she neared the airline gate,
And an inner pain engulfed her as she struggled with her fate.
He stood still, surprised, and wondered what she meant to say,
Her kiss was sweet but melted like the springtime snow in May.
Was it beginning? Was it ending? What future lies ahead?
He said 'Goodbye' and turned away. Words better left unsaid.
Both home to their own islands, alone with thoughts and doubt.
Nobody they can talk to - No way to work it out.
What will she say? What will he think? My God, what have we done?
And maybe out of Darkness a single ray of sun.
Her resolve much stronger than his lust, her drive to do what's right,
Prevailed and gave her judgement (though she didn't sleep that night.)
And life goes on, and snowfalls come - Young children play on sleds,
And both can dream what might have been. Dreams better left unsaid.
PwL 2005
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 8:39 AM UTC
It was Flight 101 to London, England
The airline being Great Britain Ways
The flight would be in hours and not days
First greeting was “Welcome Aboard”
This was a nonstop flight
But Great Britain Ways was an airline in not having passengers feel uptight
Well a certain Flight Attendant would think otherwise
The plane was now flying over London with Big Ben in the distance
Suddenly a passenger had to use the bathroom being in an instance
Yet the jet wheels were down
The Flight Attendant informed the passenger that the flight was near
Heathrow Airport and every passenger must be in their seat
Despite all that, the passenger was in the bathroom and the Flight Attendant in defeat
However, the Flight Attendant did inform the passenger to hold on tight when the plane lands on the runway
Once the wheels touched England squeaks grounds, The Flight Attendant immediately unbuckled her belt to check on the passenger
The Flight Attendant got up and the passenger was ok
Well what a flight and a day it was
But the passenger feet that touched solid ground and the flight arrived safe and sound.
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 6:53 PM UTC
One hundred and fifty travelers each day
Arrive from West African climes.
While its clearly insane to let them board planes
They can travel on scheduled airlines.
If they’re asymptomatic, they enter our ports.
Is the government out of its mind?
With dishwashers and Laundries our first line of defense
Ebola will spread over time.
Airline and hotel stocks are selling off big
Pharmaceuticals ought to do fine.
A nurse who watched Duncan as he sickened and died
Flies to Cleveland and back to big D
Her temperature was merely ninety nine point five.
“.Oh, you’re fine.” said the C-D-C.
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 8:31 AM UTC
My most persistent friends
have become six hours of jetlag
and the fading buzz of airline coffee--
as black and unforgiving as our red-eye flight,
as we wander German streets-- Füssen,
where the air is always crisp
and graceful, even awkwardly emerging
from an ugly winter.
Neuschwanstein castle sits mockingly
in the horizon-- the locals pass it by,
as I, some baffled foreigner
from Nowhere, Ohio,
where the streets bear gas stations
and the shameless scars
of recent construction (always
building, nothing built)
stand in disbelief.
Our thirst brings Jenny
and I to a Getränkeladen --
I sip on my first taste
of Apfelsaftschorle
as a roaring crowd
of local teens barge in,
with the violence of
a tornado we'd see in Xenia...
They speak in a crude,
indistinguishable slang
that Frau never could have
taught us
in room 322
Jenny hovers mindlessly
by the door-- contemplating
a bottle of Coca-Cola,
as the teenage stampede
shoves her off to the side--
fleeing out the door,
having bought nothing,
as the storekeeper sighs in disbelief.
They tore through
such a quaint little shop
with such an aimless recklessness,
one wouldn't think
a centuries-old castle
looms nonchalantly in the distance...
I was thirteen years old
and clueless--
Ben, who I believe is now
in juvie, and Ryan
stand on either side--
dumpy teenagers
in baggy clothes,
speaking in a crude,
brutal slang
that was invented in its usage.
We loitered every street
that would tolerate us,
in these exhausted Ohioan
suburbs, we tore through sidewalks
bearing unremarkable houses
in a sleepy neighborhood
with no grand castles nearby.
Our lazy strides, our ******
banter-- from Füssen, Germany,
to Who Cares, Ohio--
whether there's Neuschwanstein
or a Speedway to conquer,
there's never anything to do at home.
So wie ist das Leben...
May 16, 2012
May 16, 2012 at 9:00 PM UTC
Wind in my face
The Amihan
Squeeze of my buttocks to my soft chair
An airline chair
A dog flowing through the meadow
Was that my garden rooster
Or is it another's?
I wiggle my toes
Outbreath; Air blowing
Out my mouth
Did Rizal meditate?
Fried chicken in my nose
My nose is in that restaurant in Pampanga
Did Jesus meditate?
What is the purpose of a flower?
Is the scar on my leg my death?
Telescoping ache from my spine
Ticklish pressure in my bladder
More wind; The Habagat
In Tagaytay with friends. The white fog
Am I being mindful now?
Watch your breath!
My forearm is empty
It doesn't exist
It doesn't exist
Jan 9, 2021
Jan 9, 2021 at 3:20 AM UTC
*Before discarding
old contract writings
affecting lives yesterday..
spoke of interviewing
employment seekers..
structures prevail
levels of panels
participants gather
level to level..
formal networks
not newspapers
issued the passports
as entry for all..
order Not chaos
top-down and
external this mind
ordered pattern..
Today we hear
of airline tragedy
too little speed
landing made midst
smoke and fire..
passengers assembled
in informal hurry..
a self-organizing
masterpiece
order from chaos
lives saved in
miraculous seconds..
chaos gave birth
meeting our future
urgent self-iterating
in spots of need...*
Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 12:42 PM UTC