"xander" poems
me
there are things
i should burn for
but i won't
there are things
i should burn
but i don't
burn for you
i still burn for you
when i drink i still drink
but only in fiction
i try my best
to avoid looking at
pianists guitarists and singers they don't upset me
but i guess their art is too honest
for who i am
as it should be
i will never
understood anything done
for me out of love
me i
shouldn't be alive
last november i kicked
my friend in the face while
he tried to save my life
i'd forgotten about it and so
when he visited me
in hospital the next day
i asked about the bruise
above his eye
he looked at me real
funny and told
me he ran into a tree
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 4:06 AM UTC
running jumping
mewing occasionally
always begging for attention
always begging for a treat
a furry ball of cuteness
warm and playful
my handsome little man
my baby
sleeping on your back
snoring and twitching
my amusement
my love
fetching your favorite toy like a dog
chirping like a bird
an attention-grabbing-kitty-slut when guests arrive
an attempted escapee when then leave
poofy tail
expressive as always
I know you want me to play with you now.
Feb 11, 2010
Feb 11, 2010 at 10:52 AM UTC
Birthdays are for nostalgia
and Kings of the desert
Like Moshe, Jesus, and Xander the Great
who came and saw and tried too hard
to mend some ever important scar
that much too late had been
left too long
to settle in the pyramid of our sleeping parts
Birthdays are for reading Hart Crane
and in his fashion, an attempt to become
indiscriminate as the wind that turns the weather vane
atop the roof where snow may fall
in an imagined winter,
lethargically covering all
in it's bitter farewell to Fall
as its grave-site is buried
by the Winter who loved it most enthralled
Birthdays are for thinking about you
The voice that remains
inside and always before the lights go out
and it's the end of my day
It's there, indiscriminate and howling
just like the wind that turns the weather vane
or the imagined winter
that only falls on my nearest window pane
in the pyramids that sleep beneath my very veins
Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 3:52 PM UTC
Wish I could get over you
Like I get over fences
But you, my brick wall, it's a free for all
And my brother started talking in his sleep
Or maybe it's just me
I don't know which is worse
Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 4:22 AM UTC
angora fur
calico coat
regal and aloof
we thought you stupid
'till Xander came along
rarely jumping
never running
lazy Koko-kitty
loving
but only on the water bed
never on mine
a traditional cat
with an almost Persian face
and the most adorable mew
the mommy of the cats
but never a mother
or an aunt
adopted from the shelter
no longer feral
and healthy as a horse
Feb 11, 2010
Feb 11, 2010 at 11:06 AM UTC
One of the best days of my life,
teeters between first and second
like the moment you lose balance
and your body tenses
and sways back and forth until inner peace is found.
It was cold out
but we ran around outside anyways
in the dark night
in the glowing beems from the streetlights.
We sat on that bench that said
"Dedicated to Mark Xander"
or something like that.
We watched the sunset
pull the pinks and oranges out of the sky
below the surface of the Columbia.
You fell asleep in my lap,
as I ran my fingers through your hair,
for some reason you love that so much.
And I watched you,
you looked so peaceful.
A few minutes later
you woke up
and jumped
saying
"We're losing time!"
We ran up a few more blocks
to the downtown park
and sat by the man-made waterfall
that drizzled down from the clock tower.
Aspen trees bordered the square
already decked out in their flashing Christmas lights.
I love Christmas decorations,
did you plan this? I thought.
We traced the bricked earth with our toes
as we held hands on the bench.
The clock struck 8:00.
You stood up
and took my hand
and we kissed
as the giant bells sang to us,
beautifully.
It felt like a small promise...
that one day I'll hear those bells again
on our wedding day.
We pulled away and I looked into your eyes,
I could tell you thought
the same thing as I.
I don't remember much of the rest of the night.
My eye sight was blocked
from my clenched cheekbones
so big from smiling so wide.
All I can remember, was that we
were the happiest people on earth.
It's been almost a year since that day,
and we still remember
and embrace
that one Sunday
as the best days of our life.
Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 12:11 AM UTC
(Pentagon E-ring office—executive officer knocks & enters—General motions him in)
XO,
Explain
examinees...
Examinee
X-11,
Xander
Xanakis
Experience?
Explosives
expert.
Ex-Army.
Executive
experience
Exam?
Exceptional
Excellent!
Excessive
Exessive?
Explain
Extreme
xenophobe
(expletive)
Exclude
Examinee
X-12...
Xavier
Xanthopoulos...
Experience?
Expert—
extraction,
exfiltration.
Ex-Navy,
Executive
Experience
Exam?
Excelled
Extracuricular
extras...
Explain
Expat,
X-games,
xylophone...
Expat?
Xalapa
(chuckling)
X-games,
xylophone—
(laughs)
X-Factor!
(XO nods his head, smiling)
Xenophobic?
(shaking head)
Xenodochial.
Exeptionally
xenophilic!
Expectations?
Exceeds
Expectations
Excellent!
XO,
exclude
examinee
X-11...
Excluding
Xander
Xanakis
Expedite
Xavier
Xanthopoulos
Expediting
examinee
X-12
XO,
excused
(XO exits)
© 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
Apr 25, 2020
Apr 25, 2020 at 2:54 PM UTC