Thursday, October 24, 2013

The Conductor


How he conducts himself is your
business.

Your choice of who you travel with
from station to station in life.

But when
you take the same train
of the same name
as before-

You end up
where it claimed to take you,
down the same tracks
it did before.

When the conductor yells
"All aboard!"

When the whistle blows.

When the train is departing,
you don't have to go.

You've already been to the end of this line.

You don't have to lie to yourself,
that it will be different this time-
and
in the darkness of the tunnel
whisper to yourself-

"I think I can, I think I can, I think I can."



Friday, September 20, 2013

The Whole Kit and Caboodle

Take it,
Take what is yours.
Take the blood i owe.
Take it in small drops
or in buckets red and rusted.

Take-

And when you're done,
when the stone is dry-
take some more.

Take the boring Mondays.
Take the socks on the floor.
Take the last beer.

Take them too.

Take the souvenir cups.
Take the lonesome nights.
Take the dull razor.

Take everything, 
from the VHS tapes
to the kitchen sink-
(it's still dirty).

Take back the college education
worth thousand of dollars-
 repossess it.
 we'll call it even.
(I am not doing much with it anyways)

Take the last shred of me
that dreams.

Take it all,
The whole kit and caboodle.


 13'

Thursday, September 19, 2013

the wall

Women
claim the chairs
next to them with their
purses-

Little walls.
Little boarders.
keeping you away.

saving a seat
perhaps for no one
perhaps for a ghost
or
perhaps
the for the one that got away all those years ago.
(Maybe she still thinks he might come back)

Either way, the
seat is taken.

Occupied 
And you will either have to find another
Seat
Or 
Stand
(With your right hand 
over your heart)

For
They've claimed the chair
for Themselves
God
and
Country

13'


Relief effort

Yes, it looks like it might rain-
and
I agree this summer heat is killing me too-
and
Boy,
it "is" pretty windy out there.

I have had enough talk
about the
weather.

Enough talk about the world that I can not
control,
as the hand of God fiddles with the
thermostat-

and if not the weather
then
you talk
about
sports
the news
gossip-
anything to kill the
silence.-

is the silence so bad?
or
is it worse to share what is really
going on.

There is a light
as bright as any sun
in the soul of every man
and woman-
but it can also
rain-
hail-
floods of joy, as well as sorrow.

I want to know what storm brews in you.-
What relief can I offer you?

Sunday, September 08, 2013

La Maestra

A veces,
cuando uno es pobre
las únicas
riquezas
que tenemos
son nuestros sueños.

Yo he soñado de ti-
Maestra.

La oscuridad
esconde mi pobreza.

En la oscuridad,
la memoria de
tu rostro
brilla
como la luna
dentro de mí.

En mis sueños
conozco tu amor.

Pero son sólo sueños
de un pobre.

Durante el día
miro a la maestra
caminar por la escuela.

A veces me mira
y sonria,
pero la
luz del dia
expone mi pobreza-
expuesto mi vergüenza.

Una vez ella me
había ofrecido tomar un
café y ayuda me
convertir en un maestro.

Era mi oportunidad
en la luz del día.

Pero yo vivo en los
sueños de la oscuridad.

No puedo perder
a alguien
que nunca era mío.

Con el tiempo ella
se fue,
y los sueños se fueron,

y en la oscuridad no tenía nada
más que
oscuridad

“Desperte-
desperte
de los sueños-
y vive en la luz.”

fue la última
lección
que me enseñó
La Maestra


12'/13'

Friday, August 30, 2013

We'll Get Em Next Time

I didn't get the promotion.
The fix was in.

And after that
the birds sang horribly,
my clothes weren't fitting well,
all the traffic lights were red
and
there were more women disinterested in me,
than usual.

I didn't get the promotion.
A consequence of speaking up-
when it was the right thing to do.

They had fired
one poor bastard already,
for speaking up.

Nobody wanted to be next.

But I wasn't
Frightened-

No,
I was scared shitless
the kinda of way, you don't anyone to remember
but
I spoke up anyways-
while
everyone else stayed quite

(and I don't blame them).
 
As a consequence,
I didn't get the promotion,
the bosses best friend did-

We'll get 'em next time.

For a mans worth is what he thinks it is,
and
I think pretty damn highly of myself.

Sure, I didn't win,
(But hot damn)
I sure as Hell didn't lose either.

Tomorrow
the birds will sing beautifully,
my clothes will fit well,
all the traffic lights will all be green.
and
The women will bat their lashes, fold up their parasols
and
drop their handkerchiefs.


13'

Sunday, August 25, 2013

Alive


the wild man
of pearl jam-
put on a
show
in those day.

Pure energy
in the hearts
of the children-
listening and
watching

as the
lead singer climbs
the rafters-
jumps to his
death,
(a death more heroic
than
a kiss from
any shotgun.)

He
falls
through the emptniess
and
into the hands 
of children.

They catch him-
Alive.

Monday, August 19, 2013

Hard to Say

She said,
"No one will ever love you as much"

But I've rarely
felt loved by her words or her touch.

Her childhood dreams were lost long ago.
She is the unhappiest woman I know.

I've no right to judge,
because your life has been rough,
You created me and somehow that just isn't enough.

And the most horrible words come out when we fight.
And lords knows I don't need to always be right.

She said
"No one will ever love you as much"-
The need for love is a crippling crutch.

I will always want a place to belong-
But, please God just let her be wrong.


2013

Sunday, June 23, 2013

Why

Why don't you write poetry anymore?
Why don't you give away your secrets anymore?
Why aren't you funny anymore?

Ah,
here in this hot summer afternoon,
as I look for comfort in
a cold slice of watermelon-
I think, this moment is mine.

I've given you everything
before.

Everything is too much.

So,
this unbearable summer heat
this slice
this moment of comfort is mine.

All mine.



13'

Thursday, May 09, 2013

Nobody Reads Poetry Anymore

Nobody reads-
Nobody reads poetry anymore.

You
can't even find good ol' Carl Sandburg
in Bookshop Santa Cruz anymore.

You
can't name anything Ginsberg wrote before the
Howl, or even after anymore.

You
can't get invited to dinner parities
quoting T.S Elliot anymore.

You
can't seduce a beautiful girl
reciting Neruda anymore.

And
Shell Silverstine is the last thing you
remember being interesting.

And
everyone was running around
claiming to have read Rumi, hasn't.

And
Gwedlyn Brooks is loved for that one
poem, in part because it is alive,
but mostly because its short.

And
the kids go to hear poetry
slams,
and
the poetry slammer yell the words out
because it means more if you just
say it louder.

While
the schools make the kids write
Haiku without love.

While
rappers try to find words that rhyme
with feminism and capitalism.

While
Paradise remains lost to Milton and to
you.

While
the poetry books sit on the bargain shelves of
book stores.
Untouched Unopened
Cold and alone,
like forgotten lovers
taking up space till the book store closes
its doors,
for good.

Still,
somewhere out there, everyday, everywhere
there is  a boy
falling in love for the first
time with the most beautiful girl he has ever seen.

And the words he chooses next will change everything.




13'

Thursday, April 18, 2013

The Lady Bugs

With the Spring came the insects.

My students have been
gathering the Lady Bugs
with their hands
and
putting them inside empty water bottles
filled with
grass-
punching
air holes into the lids.

They covet these
insects.

They fight over them.
They fight to posses them.

There are those
who will pull the wings off
off the lady bugs.

Believing it's the only way 
To keep them from running
Away.

Some just like to
Pick things apart. 

Small hands
wielding the
great power to:

Crush
Smash
Destroy

For some this is the closest they
have ever come to nature-
for
others this is closest they will
ever come to being
God.



13'

Tuesday, April 02, 2013

Grant Lee Buffalo

"We water like a dead bouquet, 
Does no good, does it dear?"- GLB



Grant Lee Buffalo are
back together,
and I don't know anyone else
who would care,
except you.

They were your band,
not our band.

You didn't give them to me,
I stole them from you.
 
Songs crafted
like the wings of birds,
and a voice
stolen from the whispers of lovers in the dark-

They were your band-
Then.

When I think of you now,
you were cooler
than I ever gave you credit for.

You knew your music.

I wasn't as cool as you-
but you loved me anyways.

Yet-
There is no need to worry,
when I hear their songs
I don't think of you.
(Well not that often,
but how I wish I did.)

It was a shame
that band broke up.

It is a terrible shame when good things
break.

Somethings should last for forever.
We were never one of those things.

I would have stayed forever.
I was loyal that way.

I would have married you.

After a couple pregnancy scares,
you have to consider it as something
more than
words shared by lovers in the dark.

Somethings are meant to break,
I just never expected to break so much.

Grant Lee Buffalo back together,
and I wanted to tell you.

I wanted to tell somebody.




'13

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