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.

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

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'

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'

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'

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

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.