Standing Green and Proud

(B side)

I.
A Christmas tree
is like a classy lady.

The ornaments must
Bling
Sing
and have that Swing,
as they hang from her limbs,
because a lady doesn't
wear the
cheap stuff.

II.
A Christmas tree
is like the Statue of Liberty.

Standing
green and proud-
with light shining bright
and
a star on top of her head
like a crown.

The Christmas tree is like
 the Statue of Liberty,
 the classiest lady there is.

The Pitch

I can laugh about it now.

The need to be
brighter,
better,
and
burn more beautifully than the rest,
can be a terrible burden.

What is worse is when we
want someone to worship our every word.

But this time
they will stand there-
bored,
ready for the next pitch,
and this will hurt.

Like sticks
like stones
your bones will
break 
without words.

A brush off
worse than any woman could inflict.

It will hurt
not to be
the brightest,
the best,
or
to not burn at all.

For a moment
I allow myself to feel broken.

Then with a deep breath, I remember the Budha's
hand in
Abhaya Mudra.

Do not fear, it is not real. 

Exhale and
Remember it is all just a game-
some played
with sticks, bats, crutches
some requiring stones, marbles, balls.

There will be more pitches.

I can laugh about it now,
too bad it only hurts when
I laugh.

another one of my dreams

I was graduating from Berkeley again in an
empty
auditorium,
I was on guard duty as well.

I was graduating with
the black students
and had
a mini dvd player turned on.

I couldn't find the
off button,
when
The Dean or someone else very important-
came in,
the DVD player made a loud noise.

He tried to confiscate it.
and I refused,
I was too attached.

He burst into anger and
tripped and fell off stage.

I knew I would never graduate.

I went to the cafeteria and it was
no longer free to eat there,
But
a girl behind the glass wall said they
were hiring.

(I felt the weight of the world lifted)

Later,
while driving
my older sister
had stolen my kite and was flying
it out the window
as a stranger drove.

The car swerved as the kite
pulled in one direction.

She let the kite go,
and we were free.


12'

The Queue

There is no line
to success-

There is no order
in which it is your turn
to succeed ahead of
another.

There is no need
to wait in
a long line
that does not lead anywhere.

What is yours will always
be yours
and what you're worth
is what you think you are
worth.

(You are God, Do no harm)

But, yes there
will always be the cutters,
the cheaters,
and
the takers.

They will try
to convince you there
is a line,
that their success
insures your success.

They will kill
every last tree,
poison every last river.
They will sell you the
bullets
and
the bandages.
They will tell you their greed is holy.

They will tell you
it will be your turn
next
to kill the trees
to poison the rivers
to sell bullets and bandages
and
it will be holy.

But they can not keep
cutting,
cheating
or
taking forever.

Eventually,
they will be put in a line,
blindfolded
against a wall,
waiting,
waiting,
waiting,
 for the
oppressed and cheated
to yell
Fire!

12'

Why Keep Failing?

Some men spend

their entire lives perfecting

Writing,

Sex,

Money Scams,

Medical Cures,

War-

(or other ways

of killing other men.)

Each mastering

their craft.

Masters of Art

Masters of Money

Masters of Life

Masters of Death

I ponder my own existence.

What was i perfecting?

What am i master of?

What do i have to show

for all these years?

I have nothing.

Nothing but myself to show for.

I am an imperfect being, constantly trying

to perfect itself.

But everyday i wake up and try.

And some will scoff,
or shake their heads.

Perfection is only for

a Jesus

a Buddha

or someone holy.

And they will say

how dare you?!

How dare you try.

How dare you suggest…  

Not understanding-

Failing to understand

that was the whole point of their existence-

Of our existence.

So I
continue to fail

continue to try

continue to perfect.

I  will be master of myself, one day.

What else is there to do?

Death will come either way,

I assure you,  someone out there

is working on it.

12'

Small Sacrifice

Give me beauty,
while the ants crawl
around me.

Give me beauty,
while they increase,
insist, invade.

Give me beauty,
while
thinking of ways to kill them.

One by one,
they invade-
and
one by one
I destroy them.

Sacrifices
to their General
to their Queen
to their God.

In midst of
this Destruction,
(even this small)
I want beauty.

I want beauty to fill
my soul with joy,
Now-

because
I will never know
when I will become
a
small sacrifice-
to
some General,
some Queen,
some God.



12'

Like a Zombie

My interest in you is
dead-

as it should be.

And should it rise again. 
(like a zombie or Jesus)

You must be prepared
to rise to the occasion.

With shovel,
 axe,
 crowbar
or cross-

and do what you do best.

Poem From An Email I Never Sent In 2002

"My family is so crazy,
especially the little one." she says

"You're gonna need a lawyer." i says

"Who you?" she says

"Yeah me..."

(there is a pause,
and it is followed by another pause)

"So you want to be a lawyer?" she says

"Yes." i says

"Well could you finish the set up in room 101?" she says

"Ok, ok"

"And no more sleeping on the job..."

"OK, OK no more sleeping." I says
 
no more sleeping

until i can lift my foot without the weight of the world upon it.

no more sleeping
until my eyes open on a shiny new everything.
 
no more sleeping
until I've read so much, my eyes need glasses.

no more sleep

until i can build
a lawyers home
with books and pages

and 

windows made from reading glasses.

"Hey wake up!" she says.

"Sorry," i says
"I was just dreaming..."

02'

Checkers

(B Side)


 Hey
(Check this out)

Hustle
(Check Point)

Queen
(Check mate)

Broke
(Pay check)

Doctor
(Check up)

Box
(Check mark)

Lie
(Check's in the mail)

Later
(Rain check)




12'

Control

Take control
before it is taken from you.

Control
your sex
your sleep
your drugs

 Control
your love
your lies
your excuses

Control
your mind
your breathing
your will

Take control
before it is taken from you,
by the memory of past failure-
because you couldn’t learn.

Before you lose it to
wild fantasies of unrealistic beauty
to ease your loneliness.

Before you give it up
to the aging face in the mirror-
as time continues with or without you

Take control-
Take it, it is yours.

2012'

mr williams

Let me tell you about

Tennessee Williams,

He loved to eat with his
bare hands.

He once stabbed a man to death,
with a pen.

He loved to pee on
his favorite rose bush.

He wrote love letters
to prison inmates.

He would weep when ever anyone would mention
the Bastille.

He would fill his pockets with bread crumbs to feed
sparrows in the park.

He was a genius playwright
whose words rang truer than any church bell,
that is the only part I am sure of.


12'

Possessed

Sway with me, as if you are
possessed by something greater than yourself.
Something without a name.

Sway
as if the dove is never to return.
as if  serpent is free from the sea.
as if  the wolf at the door was invited.

Sway with me,
as if you were possessed by
Something you dare not give a name.

Even If Only

Even
If
Only

Should, Never Fail
Should, Always Complain
Should, Sometime Stay

Even then,
If then,
Only then.



12'

Construction was his profession

(The Friends of Miniver Cheevy Series: Part 4)

The only thing he loved more
than writing, was his wife.
(and after 7 years she wanted a divorce)

But Frank would tell you he was
a construction worker, not a poet.

He'd Say:
"It's not a fucken big deal.
My wife married a construction worker
not a poet.

I build things with my hands.

I put the world in order-
make it beautiful.

Sometimes things fall apart.
It could be a home-
It could be a truck-
It could be a life-

I make things beautiful.
Beautiful, who the fuck uses that word?
A poet?

But that's what it is man.
That's what it is to me.

It's
Brick,
Paint,
Wood,
Nails,
and the sweat of an honest days work.

What I've always been amazed at,
when watching the news,
whether its
fire,
earth quakes,
or hurricanes,
is
all that shit
can all be put back together.

It can be put back together,
even a marriage."

Frank would tell you he was
a construction worker, not a poet.
He loved his wife.

A cat person

(The Friends of Miniver Cheevy Series: Part 2)

Carey was a cat person.

She was still young at 36 and
by all accounts still pretty as the
day was long.

Still single.

She didn't go out anymore,
didn't enjoy it anymore
the
way her younger self
used to.

Men are dogs anyway.

She'd tell you
she was waiting for the right one.

Till then the only man in her life was
Ferdinand the cat.

She'd tell you:
"Dogs are man's best
friend and
messy.
Dumb, not loyal."

Cats are clean, and don't need you except
for affection.
They can survive out on their own,
that's why I prefer felines."

Carey was a cat person.
but I assure you she was no cat lady.
(no, not yet)

A strong female mother figure

(The Friends of Miniver Cheevy Series Part 1)


They would grow up to be
wild beast
without a strong female mother figure,
Jo Anne
was sure of it.

At the ages of 19 and 17,
her teenage boys were
nothing but trouble.

They were the kind of boys
only a mother could love.
(and even that was up for debate at times)

Jo Anne was a strong woman,
strong willed the way Disney villains
are before going astray.

She is beautiful for a woman
who stays up worrying.
She did her best to raise them right
and figured
that whatever they were going through
was genetically
the fault of their father,
now deceased.
(god rest his soul)

Jo Anne was the kind of
strict mother who you would swear
was trained by the CIA.
(Denying the use of water boarding)

She was a master interrogator.
She could sniff out lies because
she was the best at telling them.
She could find
pot stashes,
fireworks,
and playboys
hidden in any:
under,
inside of,
and disguised as.

She believed a man should never cry,
with the exception of
her two sons.

Jo Anne
was what you would call
a strong female mother figure.