Saturday, May 4, 2013

The Lonely Wedding


There was a wedding today and you weren't here.
The bride was beautiful, but then, aren't they always?
There was a wedding today, and all I could do was watch
and wonder what you were doing.

I dropped my gaze, unworthy of their joy.
Traces of whipped cream from the other half of dessert,
rich and thick bread pudding,
reminded me that I had no one to share.

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Irreverent artifications

             Eventually, you start being flippant with the sacred language.  Words are not so meaningless but are so full of meaning that they become autonomous. Even small words like "you" "me" "night" and "warm" become so haughty that the skitter off the page and into some romantic tryst that makes you wonder if they were planning it all along. 
              With such rebel syllables, how then do you dare use the larger workhorses of imagery? Dare you pen "passionate" or "smoldering" or "endless"? They are apt to bite you and suck your marrow out through your very soul. 
               You eventually begin treating words with the same contempt with which they treat you. You stop caring if a word is even real because the damn things breed. 
               Litters of letters besiege your page and you are left with...what?  You wean them, edit them, find them a good home where they are loved and trained, but they keep coming back and keep demanding from you more than everything you have. 
                Is it any wonder you become flippant and disregard the very rules you so lovingly put into place? It is no good anymore to count beats on your fingers or wonder if it really rhymes because in the end, it doesn't matter. 
               The truth of the things will happen whether you dress it like a sonnet or a sestina, whether it flows or stutters. 
               Words happen, often viciously or criminally. We revere, maybe even fear them at times, but in the end, the arcane lexical alchemy becomes basic household chemistry. There isn't even a boom at the end. 

Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Birth me slowly

Birth me slowly in the cold, cold night. 
Teach me the ways of the rambling seer. 
I wish to grow in the truth of death and daisies,
to dance in the feral blossoms of the night. 

Embrace me in the growing shadows. 
Welcome me into the eternal spires. 
Show me the path where the wild rabbit fled,
where the fox laid down her kits in the shadows. 

Birth me with passion in the mystery. 
Calm the quaking fear of my pain. 
Drag me out of light and into the cool, cool darkness
where everything is a discovered mystery. 

Monday, April 29, 2013

The immortal seed

I know the way into eternity.
It is easy, now that I see the way. 
I found your garden of serenity. 
I walk its paths in the night and the day. 

I know all your mysteries and secrets.  
It is the wall that guards your radiance. 
I have found your skies dancing with comets. 
I walk here knowing your grace and puissance. 

You are the immortal seed, planted by God. 
You are the eternal garden of light. 
You are sacred ground where none have yet trod. 
You are the stars that brighten endless night. 

I am the dreamer cloaked in my journey. 
I am a pilgrim searching out your  truth. 
I have walked paths difficult and stony. 
I have searched for you since my long passed youth. 

Now, we are here. The seed has been planted. 
Now, you are near. Our story is started. 

Sunday, April 28, 2013

Water and stone

Water and stone
standing alone
outside my home
mocking bird's throne

Pillar and dish
carved with big fish
thirsty bird's wish
they splash and splish

Concrete basin
water within
too soothe dry skin
flutters begin

Bath for the bird
frequently stirred
songs often heard 
clean wings are blurred

Saturday, April 27, 2013

Youtubulata

cat on a Roomba
day all wasted watching-
zoom, kitty, zoom!

How animals eat...
Watch closely: a vulgar display.
Hit play one more time!

Too many kittens
adorable videos
all over the 'net

They took my kidney!
Charlie the Unicorn's fate
Candy Mountain's lie.

Friday, April 26, 2013

Shall I compare thee to a winter storm?

Shall I compare thee to a winter storm?
Contrast against the blinding, blizzard winds
thy frigid, bitchy heart is not as warm. 
The temperate polar gales are my friend
compared to thy back stabbing, faithless lies. 
When I observe thy treatment of people,
I'm left surprised that anyone would try
to weather thee and all thy heartless bull. 
At least the winter rains will water crops,
while thee shall soak us with thy dramatized
uncaring gossip. Shall I go or stop
comparing thee to winter's stormy guise?
If I had choices to be made 'twixt thee
or blizzards, then I ask thee: let me freeze. 

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Self portraits

1. There once was a girl in Merced
with too many words in her head.
She'd sit and she'd write
from dawn until night
and wonder if it would be read.

2. The fatness of my cats
when they lay like welcome mats
wrings out my sighs
'cause they look like pies,
except they're not that flat.

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

dem latex blues

I'm allergic to latex,
it's sad but its true. 
I'm allergic to gloves,
so what should I do? 

I went to the doctor
to get a Pap smear 
I didn't know that
latex was near. 

The very next day
it hurt when I peed. 
It hurt when I sat,
and it hurt when I sneezed. 

I'm allergic to latex,
it's sad but its true. 
I'm allergic to gloves,
so what should I do? 

I wear vinyl if I can
and nitrile if I can't 
but I like how latex feels
and now my comfort is scant. 

Now I've got a rash
that goes from there to here,
and I've learned my lesson
about latex fear. 

I'm allergic to latex,
it's sad but its true. 
I'm allergic to gloves,
so what should I do? 

Yes, I'm allergic to latex
It's true and it's sad. 
I'm allergic to latex. 
I'm allergic real bad. 

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Laboratory rhymes

'Round and 'round the centrifuge 
the sample trays spin faster. 
I hope they don't open and spill
and cause a big disaster. 

Around the biomedical lab
the technicians all are working 
to solve the medical mystery
diligently without shirking

All around the medical world
The scientists are cheering. 
A cure has finally been found
for all the patients endearing. 

Monday, April 22, 2013

Pussycat pantoum

Twitch the paws and flick the tail
A cat can sleep how she wants
She dreams of milk and fish
Puddling her fur in the sun

A cat can sleep how she wants
No bird dares peep and wake her
Puddling her fur in the sun
The world rests in her whiskers

No bird dares peep and wake her
The day is long and lazy 
The world rests in her whiskers
She purrs while she dreams

The day is long and lazy
Twitch the paws and flick the tail
She purrs while she dreams
She dreams of milk and fish

Sunday, April 21, 2013

In bed

You will soon go on an adventure. 
Beware of malicious scams. 
Don't be afraid to explore. 
Sometimes lions appear as lambs. 

Spend some time with family. 
Invest in your future. 
Fear is only a perception. 
Prevention is better than a cure. 

Children are worth more than you know. 
The truth may be hidden. 
Safety comes at a price. 
Dare to try the forbidden. 

Saturday, April 20, 2013

Do you need more owls in your life?

Today! Yes today only!
You can abscond with this: 
An owl generator! 

You will not be lonely
Not with this new device
for only a few dollars!

A miraculous thing!
It creates a bird for you
of nonpareil plumage!

And hear it sing!
The svelte bird, (yes its true)
can cause no umbrage. 

You might think me selling
this contraption a mere
rodomontade,

but dear people its a killing,
the kind of theft of this here
machine from Riyadh!

Gather 'round my stand
and watch the workings work:
Crafted cogs and gears and cloves

Oddments go in and land
on this platform and then with a JERK!
Out comes an owl with a rose!

Come one, come all only for today!
The Owl-Generator is for sale!
But wait, there's more!

Have you ever wanted your turtle gay
and polished from head to tail?
Just buy my elixir and pour!

So see what you can buy
at my eclectic stall 
here at the trade show

Go ahead, feel free to try. 
You break it, you buy it all 
at the Carnival of Tomorrow!

Friday, April 19, 2013

Frankenstein's poem

We are the story tellers, 
                          Hello.
I could not think of what to write. 
They crashed the glass; we screamed at them to stop,
The lovely bones upon the shelf

The fires of the night glitter in your eye
It is night, and I am awake. 
In the land of Tir na nOg

Interrobang me
Me! Me! Me!

This town's a fickle dame...
Eyes like obsidian pierce with a glance.

Nighttime 
Dare the dawn on silvered wings
Idle hands the watchman grows when hours long and fragile spread. 
You told them all my presence there was death,

She's the type that drinks your coffee with this sneer that says she could brew a better batch
Come with me to a quiet place
Step one, turn on the oven. 

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Despite ourselves

We are the story tellers, 
the rabble rousers, 
the star singers.
Ours is the power to ignite, to extinguish, to calm and excite.
In our hands, truth is a sword or a shield. 
We are the destroyers, the healers, the seekers. 
We are the star-forged, belched out atom by atom into the void. 
While we are temporary, our time is eternal. 
Listen, Polaris! 
Stand still and recognize the cold power;
 but you were already held fast. 

But who told the first story?
Who roused the deepening deep?
Who sang the first stars and forged man from the flames?

The Destroyer, 
The Healer, 
The Seeker of the Broken has come. 

He bolted Polaris in place, riveted by the power of His grace. 
His army stands at the gates, prepared for war. 
He extends grace to us, despite our shadows. 
He is forever and knows no temporary things. 
Beyond the void and wrath and cold, two words resonate through eternity:

I Am. 
        

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Greetings, from human.

                          Hello.
 Would you like to hear a word?
I know a few I saved for you. 
These things that I have heard
I heard from the deep dark blue. 

                         Hello. 
Would you like to come to land?
I know the sea is deep and wide. 
Is the ocean floor all that bland
that you would surface on our side?

                          Hello. 
Would you like to see the sea?
We call it flat but really it's not. 
Can you tell us about the free
things swimming below the sun so hot?

                         Hello. 
Would you like to be dissected?
We never met a mermaid here before. 
Your fins confuse and distracted
the biologists who call the sea a bore. 

                          Hello. 
Would you like to be in a museum?
You are the proof of Atlantis gone.
These dusty halls: your mausoleum 
while science calls your death a dawn. 

                        Hello. 
Would you like to be a hoax?
You are impossible, a fairy tale. 
Half human, half fish is a joke
played that sadly often fails. 

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Poetic constipation

I could not think of what to write. 
I put pen to page and had a fright
because nothing good came to mind. 
My endless words became hard to find. 

For whom do I write and what should I say?
For a poet to run dry is a very sad day. 
For whom do I write and what is my art?
I really hate this mental word fart. 

Monday, April 15, 2013

At least it was all just a dream

They crashed the glass; we screamed at them to stop,
but they just kept intruding, so we hid. 
I wound up in the kitchen calling cops,
but I did not stay put like Kristen did. 
Beneath the table, on the kitchen floor, 
I saw the long and sharp and deadly knives
and grabbed one. Creeping, silent, door to door
my fate was simple and laid out: their lives
were forfeit when they broke into our home. 
But would the Sheriff come in time? Who knew? 
With knife in hand, I'd make a stand alone
and keep this house protected from the crew. 
I found them all and killed them with great ease
and not a struggle came as I dispatched
the four invaders, pretty as you please. 
Police arrived, I knew I was no match
when they accused me: murder in the first. 
I plead my case but was denied reprieve.  
Insanity was my defense and curse
when I was instituted for belief 
that people in a home with family
have obligations to defend their own. 
If those who die are crippled mentally
then all my arguments are wrong it's shown. 
Because they didn't understand the crime,
it turns out I'm the one who is doing time.