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The end of an Era

18 Apr

My grandmother passed…

Tomorrow she will be cremated.

I regret

I regret

I regret

I regret

The matriarch has left a void

so begins the battle of blood

Tuesday Poem: On this the day that the benevolent Saint Valentine gave us to worship each other because I only love you one day

14 Feb
Or perhaps if I was feeling more anti-capitalist I would say:
On this day that the mass media and years of social pressure has ingrained in us is a day of love when its really a day of increased revenue for the the stores and not a true celebration of the love that we feel or don’t feel
Or I could call it the one day a year that I get sex without having to do much

The problem with old saint valentine is he has forgotten his voice
if he ever had one
and if he ever had one he would probably spit on all this
stuff we feel we have to do
the chocolate
and champagne and the jewelry that costs more than my car
If he ever had a reason to believe that this would become the day of lovers
this February 14th which is arbitrarily marketed as the one day a year I may profess my love
and how does a man who died for god only knows what
beget love?

I guess what I am trying to say is
I love you every day
and not just this one
I guess what I would like to give you
is the peace of mind to know that my love is not reserved for February
but flourishes in every other month
and I guess what I would like to say is
I love you
and the rest of my life too

Tuesday Poem: Clearing

31 Jan

Clearing out the cobwebs

I play the songs of erratic movement

a vision for calamity

it comes home to me

restless and fatigued

this sexual insanity that swells in me

a rabid dog

the medication has worn off

I cannot see the world

I see only shattered four leaf clovers

stripped of luck and sauteed in butter

Tuesday Poem: Blah

24 Jan
She thinks that heaven happens
some where close to
your hands in hers
she thinks
it doesn’t matter
that you’re the woman who knows best
hot to make her cry
but I’m no fool
I know that love has its pains
but those are surpassed by there gains
and I know you
you feel unreal to me
the way touch her isn’t clear

Tuesday Poem: Rough

18 Jan

I have always been a person with an edge

the one who never smiled

or whose smile had the look of

obnoxious, condesenion

I have always been the one whose face has gotten her

into trouble

I have always been the rough one

*****Sorry for the delay guys. I was out of town over the weekend at a youth leadership conference and I didn’t get much writing done. This poem is exactly what the title says, rough!****

Tuesday Poem: The Old Fairy Tales have F***ed us up

10 Jan
She admires you
takes her cue from you licking your lips
understands that she is red riding hood
and you are just a poor hungry wolf to be fed
she is transfixed by you
affix’s photographs of you to her notebook
writes your name a thousand times and
the revision of her name with yours
She is thinking of you like she is sleeping beauty
you are all she dreams about
and if you would just stop by and kiss her back to life
she could be indebted to you forever
she would be yours to keep
or yours to cast aside
it isn’t important anymore
since you’ve convinced her that knights do not shine anymore
that they occasionally glisten
but very rarely do they live their lives by the old virtues
she takes from you that all good girls love
bad/good boys
the kind of boy who goes to church on Sunday
but only after washing off his sordid encounter from Saturday night
from you she takes that purity in its snow white form
is a woman’s duty only
forgets that she ever knew men who were deserving of true love

Tuesday Poem: Promise

3 Jan

I wanted to tell you that you are a dreamer

a creature of habit and inspiration

You run back and forth

back and forth

an undualating wave of promises broken

and regrets that stick in your teeth

you just keep on pushing back

against the weight of people’s expectations

on to the next one

and the next one is  the right one

you are sure of it

but I have to tell you

you are a dreamer

lost in the fog of mourning

Tuesday Poem: Convinced of being findable

20 Dec

I went on a journey to find my soul

its still missing by the way

if you see it

you know my number so don’t hesitate

I went on a journey to find my soul

to see if I had left it in day dreams of far off places

in the memories for disappointment

I started to allude to where it was in my choices

first paris at the eiffel tower

then Mount everest

the destination more precarious the moment when I realized

too late

I went looking for my soul outside oif minimarts

but its an upscale little thing and was probably waiting for me at a lounge in new york

I wanted to be able to say I found it servign soup in a soup kitchen

or giving shots to malnourished African children

I wanted to be able to say I found it writing poems

telling stories in written word to be spoken by herself

I would have liked very much for you to call and say you found it

that I left it by your bed and had ever considered putting a bell on this thing?

Or GPS tracking

or Whatever you can do to spirits these days

I know there is an App for that

I erupted out of steel hope

wanting to believe that it was somewhere near by and hiding from me

I regret to say it is no where to be found

and if I am sitting right beside it must have an invisiblity cloak on

or is using a star trek themed teleporter to hide from me

I wanted to pretend that this was the place where it all came back to

to me and my strong spirit mind and body

but regretablely it doesn’t stand beside me with its arms raised screaming my name

not anymore

I have wasted its time for the last time

and it may not visit me anymore

Tuesday Poem: Not a poem

13 Dec

I want to write you a poem

a love song



I want to write you a sonnet

a truth in word

but I forgot all the things that I knew

the power of knowing is the possibility of doing

but even that I can’t give you

I wanted to write you a poem

to tell all my quiet secrets

but instead I have written you this nothing

to say nothing for a while

Friday Reflections: Tuesday Poems

9 Dec

So, I didn’t write a poem for today. Don’t throw anything please! I’m sure you’re thinking, “wasn’t she doing so well? Wasn’t she writing a poem a day?” Well yes, and no. I finished out the month not writing a single poem for four days. This of course led to me not writing a single word for December yet. Is this a crying shame? Yes. Do I need to fix it? Yes. Do I know how? Sort of.

The general consensus is that if you want to write, you don’t wait for the muse to find you. Regularity and routine draw her to you. She begins to think, “Hey this kid is serious! I better give her some great ideas!” and then you may write your greatest novel or the crappiest thing on the planet. This depends on whether or not you are a good writer not on what the muse brings you.

Of course, there are always the stories you hear: I was waiting for my train, watching these two little kids play hopscotch in the subway station.  And that was when I realized I had to write a novel about my childhood in Mississippi as told from the point of view of a mouse and I wrote the whole thing on that train ride. Or very nearly the whole thing.

This, my friends, is what keeps the myth of the muse alive. People who say the idea just came to me while I was brushing my teeth and then that book just somehow wrote itself. I wish it were this easy. Let me assure it isn’t. How do I know? Because if it were that easy everyone would be a writer and sell books to publishers and be millionaires. Is that the case? No? Well then.

So, I’m sure you want to know, if I know the code to get words to page why don’t I do it? Well that would involve finding a consistent schedule. That would involve me finding twenty minutes in my day or getting up earlier or going to bed later and I simply haven’t reconciled myself to losing any more sleep than I do already. It’s a difficult business building a habit. They say it takes a year to really make something a habit, to engrain it in your muscle memory and it only takes a few weeks to undo all that hard work. Will I work on it? Yes, I’ve been working on it all year. Will it still be a goal I have for myself for next year? Yes, I will. Should you tell me about your routine? Yes, you should. Leave me a comment!