Nothing to say

A twisted mess of a ball

Made from paper pulled out of a notebook

Ripped from a ream and cut from sheets upon sheets upon sheets spanning for miles across the plane of earth where forests house the trees that were lopped into stumps, shredded, flattened, pressed into the very paper that lies still upon the table cut from the same spruce which crinkles as I flick it onto the cold floor

…        …        …        …        …

The floor holds the paper ball, never disturbing it

It will only move when I pick it up again

It contains all that for which I try to say and have no need

…        …        …        …        …

That which I have to pick up, lest I get caught littering

Poetry

If I had no possessions, I would give everything I had

To anyone who asked in any form of need

If I had no possessions, I would ask for the shirt off my brother’s back

I would share others’ things with others

If I had no possessions, I would live amongst everyone, all of the time

No sense of ownership to weigh us down or tether us

To a world of which we only know its four walls

The walls all fall down, one by one with each precious item we let go of with the same, shared love we all have of the ground we walk on

If I had no possessions, and you had no possessions except that which you and I hold in this singular moment together,

We could all be free to touch the untouchable, reach the unreachable, accomplish the unattainable

Then love might prevail.

Poem

Slipping away with the night

Following no source of light

Struggling to fight

That which is out of sight

Pocketing all the might

Of the key tailing the kite

Gaining forms of insight

That must be used right

Two Paths

Two paths, which one shall I go down?
Between a world of hate and a world of fate
I like to wake up with the sun and pants on the post
And the life I know comes with a bottle of beer

I was raised to go to church and work hard everyday
My mom made dinner while my dad worked in the yard
Us kids did our homework then biked up and down the block
Then at the family table we all were forced to talk

     Now it's all a part of me
     And it's getting so hard to see
     What can't be seen
     But what must be felt

As we all grew up, we all moved far away
But we still all called that old house home
And every winter, it felt good to be back together
And share a glass from my dad's old scotch bottle

     It's still all a part of me
     And it's been so hard to see
     How it was real
     And continues to be

Now we're all grown up and chasing our own lives
And the infinite choices can make us paralyzed
So I'm getting used to deciding on my own
How far I'll roam and where I'll make my own home

     It was all a part of me
     And I no longer can see
     Where I am
     Who I'll be

     I can't let go of me
     I am ready to see
     How who I was
     Defines who I'll be

What I got

I don’t have a lot

But what I got is what I got

And that’s quite a lot

People talk on high

And oftentimes they lie

About how they get by

I know an old man

Who sits alone on the can

And wonders if he can

I don’t have a lot

But what I got is what I got

And that’s quite a lot

Friends all let you down

If you only hang around town

It’s best to act like a clown

Crying won’t help you

To do what you need to do

To beat life’s little flu

I don’t have a lot

But what I got is what I got

And that’s quite a lot

The sun shines on the duck

And with any luck

You’ll find joy in just a fuck

Lonely folks are quiet

But I just don’t buy it

Let’s start a riot

I don’t have a lot

But what I got is what I got

And that’s quite a lot

The Clearing

When I feel quiet, when I feel blue

The world opens up and gives me a clue

Most times I can’t see the forest through the trees

They’re etched by the memories of red autumn leaves

They fell long ago, eroding into dirt

Now cake on my feet distract from the bud’s flirt

My sallow-hued eyes pass over the sky

And land upon the horizon’s constant lie

That a clearing is ahead, where dandelions bloom

And bears’ noses are tickled by the mockingbird’s plume

The shadows cast over the thin forest floor

Covering the stoned path that leads to the door

That is adorned by a wreath of pungent dogwood

Beckoning if I could follow my nose, I should

If only I would trust that beautiful stench

The clearing’s promise I would find in a cinch

Stumbling through the darkness I search for a scent

That might be the clue to the door for which I am meant

Alone we are born, alone we embrace death

We have only these days with each other to share our breath

Rain, Rain, Stay Awhile

Rain, rain, come to play

Fall awhile and stay

Your drip, drip, drip

Makes my thoughts slip

Through the grassy mud

And chewed like a cud

Your sudden thunders bring

My attention to a ring

It snaps my heavy head

Out of its windy bed

Melting its crown open

And calming hungry lion’s den

My windowpanes snap

With each droplet’s pat

Filling a sea in the air

Of which I throw all care

Down and up and out

And through the roundabout

Shooting out somewhere

I have no idea where

My soul relaxes in the rain

It no longer feels pain

Seeing itself for itself

There’s finally room for myself

So rain, rain, stay awhile

Make my grin smile

Turn my crown up

Lift my highest cup

So my hammock might spread

And my body find its bed

Jumbled Haiku

Leave past in the past

Live in the present

Let the future come to you

A Perfect Note

Placing my hand upon her head,

I brush her as she lie on my bed.

Running my fingers down her neck,

Itching to pluck, first I check

To be sure no one can see us

As we begin to build a truss

Of love and laughter, weep and moan

To house our music, we postpone

All the world’s demands of time;

Our sudden rapture must be a crime

To deny the knocking of the door

Of which each mouth fables lore

Telling stories of working weak

Killing arts before they speak.

So I shut the clanging out

That we may take a roll about

My bedroom filled with shrieking sound

Of lust and pain and stress profound-

Enough to crack the panes of glass

Which mirror lines along my lass,

Upon her body deeply shone

From years of her vibrating tone.

Her edges sparkle like ivory keys

As I adjust her upon my knees

And marvel at her center navel,

How it holds all my world stable

And grounds my feet upon this earth

O!  Her fruit, our time, a dearth!

So as I tune her one last time,

Stopping my hand right on the dime,

I wonder:

Does a Stradivarius guitar

Feel the same ecstasy at bar

As the player in his part

When he conjures a perfect note from her heart?