on a slush disturbed day
the Mountain-Dew bottle hurled buoyantly but flawlessly
towards the intersection of Niagara Falls Blvd.
boastfully rolling courageously towards the broth colored Toyota Sienna.
you could almost see a tear come down my eye
as I watched the carcass catapult backwards, back towards the sidewalk.
I witnessed the recyclable tip, gently kiss the back tire.
but lawful scientific rejection
discarded the plastic into a different lane
called oncoming traffic.
Deserting the deserving
Guilt has fallen on me.
To mend the broken grains
God please send the rain.
Myopia my Utopia
See near- see close- see two
But distance, oh so fleeting
There once was me and you
- She folded her hands together and brought them towards her head. So that when you look straight, directly at her, you cannot see a part of her face.
In an instant, the problem you formulated in your brain drizzles down your cheek, and disappears in the abyss of laughter;
at your professor who is smiling without a nose.
Dear Suzie B.
You complete: she
Bash your chain
into the dusty grave.
Cast your vote
before the self, gloats.
He called you indecent,
she called you the free-aunt.
With your candy filled Alligator bag
thrown against your back like a hag,
ride off on your white horse.
City to city its strength grows.
a tinker once tapped into a clock so deep
a knock and a click- tic. tic. tic.
stealthy hands they reached for the end-
only to begin again
his feet unwind and ring on time
they tap at the step of a heart and a beat
always expecting another face to breathe
maybe today, he will wake.
but he slept-
with the pattern of time in his head
boats with doe’s
watching the city below me weep
flocks of cars
I’m only impressed with transportation to mars
tripping to Venus
inside a forensic Mercedes with a group of hippies
Start to run on broken lumber
that has fallen from the structure
of the burning house.
Jump onto one that snaps in half
and grab another piece, just in time.
Swinging and running through the falling thoughts.
careful not to step on the ground, and LOSE the game of carpet lava.
But I can’t leave the house-
Something so mesmerizing and sweet in the air,
a monotonous smell that I search for
every time my mind visits there.
take me home.
The fire is back, but I am still cold.
come walk with me
My toes step on cold
unevenly laid on the frigid dirt path
sprouting out from the cracks
skinny green vines attack for attention
their presence chills my bones
and your toes touch the center of every third square
that focus you have
not too far, just move your head slightly around the path.
you see the beautiful earth laid with a blanket of wicked greens
There is a border on your left and on your right;
Two cold lines that keep you from nature’s strife
One more step on to the in between
sinking each toe into the wet bristles but the heels grounded in cement
hands reach for the soft dirt
your knee strikes a patch of moss
slowly we sink to the intricate ground
brush your fingers and hands into the easy ripped hair
Close your eyes
and really feel the heartbeat of the wind
but only for a second
press your head into the roots
smell the fumes the tree produces for hours
while growing an inch in front of you
It waves its glorious branches in ones face
taunting and teasing your blood flow to race
a little more
in the distance your gaze reaches an angry stone wall
Now how can stones be angry?
carelessness can be a virtue-
Quickly they built the wall, throwing the bricks
cussing the storm that hired them all-
one brick lands on a finger and the ladder falls and hugs the grass
there is the end to the wall
the uneven layers of cement form a crown around it all
with no gate
and no time
the ladder is far behind
Come walk with me dear solider
Before the stars start to fall. Continue reading “Rem Garden”
Stare into the corner of your room
And actually look
You can’t see it can you?
All the dust and disgust that’s growing as I type
It’s just sitting there like your ego-
In front of your reality
That dust starts to float to the counters and the edges of your picture frames.
Creeping through the air- and only seen when the light pushes through the windows.
It surrounds you day by day you breathe it in and out
Until one day you see a dusty figure sitting in the room right next to you.
You move closer to see if it’s real -come to find they smell so familiar you begin to feel comfortable around them.
The figure copies your every move and listening to everything you say, becoming your shadow and growing with time.
And then you turn around, and see a monster.
He stomps around claiming his territory and you are thrown into the corner. Reality check.
Not so clean, is it?