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30 Poems in 30 Days (Redux)

1-18 Traveling the Tarmac

i
Head against glass,
slow breathing in
anticipation as the
taxi ride ends and
waiting for the rush to
the very end, watching
it all drop away,
again

ii
Waving to the ground
crew while doing my best
to check out the stews,
sorry, attendants, in as
professional a manner as
possible. Not easy sometimes.

iii
Sun is hot. Not in general, just
while out there, out
on the black surface, hooking
up each bird in turn and
dragging it back and forth,
bringing them in
watching them leave
wondering if I’ll ever be
doing the same.

iv
Smile. That’s what they say.
Smile and help out.
Smile and even up the overheads.
Smile and roll the cocktail cart,
handing out quieters,
booze, snacks, headphones,
collecting trash
Just rolling along until hitting
the air, then sitting and rolling
and saying goodbye
Buh-bye.
 
1-19
raise a glass to bryan ferry

these foolish things
enchantments
remind me of you

without them
we might have ever walked
divergent paths

spare part bodies
mechanical pumps
incomplete circuits and error messages

the magic was in the electricity socket
you jammed your finger into
kill or cure
 
1-20

LiquoreStrega.png


Strega
She's gonna make you itch
'cause she's the witch.
—The Sonics

You aren't really evil,
though you do cast one hell of a spell—
at times, I'm almost cross-eyed

with pleasure. And somehow
you make me just want to be bad
as well. That's a gift,

surely. But trust me, it's not
by the pricking of your thumbs
that something wicked your way comes.


.
 
1-19

Washing

In 1998 the New Year
found me with a family that
was to become mine.

When the sky lit up
we were not sure if it
was fireworks, or gunfire.

Minutes before midnight, some
retreated silently to
corners of the dark courtyard

Carrying not beer, or cashew wine
But buckets of water, and soap

Under the palm-framed sky, they
washed away the year
to start the new one clean.

That family is no longer mine.
But tonight, midnight will find me
In a hot shower, washing.
 
2-9

Elemental

Having never studied organic
chemistry I'm still struck
that something so innate,
so necessary, so integral
to life, is just a reaction,
timed just perfectly in sympathy
with all the other matter
in the soup to really matter
as part of the big picture.

So, here it is, iron meets oxygen
and via a series of inputs and filters
gets set free and pulls an atom
of carbon loose to dance
and then to, ultimately,
bond with a series of other
carbon pieces and a hydrogen bit
so that we breathe and are fed
just by being alive. Ain't life grand?
 
1-20

Goodbye 2013

You were a real bitch to live,
dealing unnecessary struggles and strifes
which none of us earned it,
we've been suffering long before then.

We can't say
we will miss you or remember you.
So, there will be no "Auld Lang Syne".
You Twenty-Thirteen, are best forgot.
 
1-18

Oh, look at the blooming stars
of fire and and smoke and light
sparkling in the night sky.
(Nice start, that sounds nice)
Sparkling like the clear,
bubbly, bright, merry-making,
peace-making wine
—excuse me, champagne—
braving into dark depths,
then climbing to the command chair,
making fingers move easily
to write these silly lines.

I wish you all an excellent 2014.
 
3/11 - Gone

It felt too much like prying,
opening drawers and rifling
through private papers.
We didn't meet each others'
gaze, guilty and yet we
had to finish closing his life.

The Tudor bed piled high
with dated tweeds and
collarless shirts, studs
in place waiting for
the finishing touch.

Some surprises, un-
professorial magazines,
Vargas originals in the
bottom of his wardrobe
and love letters to our
grandmother, ragged with
years of remembrance
and lovingly blue-ribboned.

Standing at his funeral
we knew him better
in death than in life,
that stern, unreadable,
lovely man.
 
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1-19

dream me a dream
a stream of conscious
dream, it all blends
in seamless seams
long running reams

dream me a dream
where it is alright
we are alright,
that we can breathe
where you didn't leave

to be with the one from
your past, where I didn't
revert into a rutting beast
random women on our sheets
the sheets we chose together

dream me a dream
where I didn't do that
to him unprovoked
because I wanted you
to want me, somehow I
thought if I was stronger
bigger, badder you would
would want me again

all I did was hurt you
hurt him, hurt us
dream me a dream
where it is alright
where you want me
like you used to
 
you have credit on your phone, booze and weed ... still you keep on calling

1-20

when i gave you all i could
and time ran out
and then i gave some more
it got ugly
and still the phone keeps ringing
pleading
making me the bad guy
and now you throw in she's pregnant?
really?
don't know if i'm more sad or angry
but this inn is full
there's no stable
the door stays closed
but, damn....
 
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3/12 - Dendrophylax lindenii

PL-ghost_orchid_sentinel_cu2.jpg

:::
Elusive as any ghost will be,
undistinguished until
delicate white blooms
seem to float on air.

Men have died in the
yearning to own her
but, once captive
she escapes in death
refusing to be a
possession.

Fine seeds carried
on prevailing winds
found Florida, as many
do, and settled to glow
in the dark depth of
steamy swamps. Stuff
of legend and inspiration,
pale sister to her riotous
siblings she remains
wildly untouchable.
 
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1-19 Dark Days

Year's end has come,
one more to mark down
and balance out the
karma accrued in days
gone by
Dark days, long past
Untrue
How...why do I start
a new year with such
lies to myself? The pulse
of the past lies closer
to the surface than one
likes to think, and huddles
viperlike in wait for just
the right moment
to strike.
 
1-20

Time begins when Klook comes
bashing steady hi hat riding
spin measured rollick
of the snare snapping little
bombs

Dex goes flying
honky loosey-goosey loops
of jazz sliding spiraling to the
break where Bud rolls in
nimble stride and tumble
din of chords crashing
bounce and blues Paris
1962.
 
1-21

102px-Tuaca_375_ml.jpg


Tuaca

At first, I thought you were pretty vanilla
but then you started to do things
with ice

that gave our relationship
more than a little snap, even though
the next day I woke up

without any pants,
my wallet gone, and not even a note
to tell me where you'd gone.

I can't even remember your name.


.
 
1-21

Goblin Topplers

attachment.php


Mushroom-capped formations
balance on delicate necks
done so for twenty million years
and one shove changed the face
of what's always been.​
 

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1-19

Cheap gin touches his mouth
to fight away what yearns the cold.
We feel, quietly, time passing,
you tell me "it's all wrong".
You do not tell me what,
so silence remains,
things go untold.
Finally, a truthful sigh,
so it's all said and done.
You know it's fine
to have a broken heart,
but not to give it up.
 
2-10

On Alone

Funny, isn't it? Alone -
All one, sounds pretty
selfish and yet alone-
a lone heart does yet
yearn for one more.
Well, maybe. But still,
funny, isn't it? Alone?
 
1-20

Sleeping, 3


Bracken shadows scratch
wild night dances, murdering
innocent floral bouquets
wilting in wide-eyed terror,
while windowpanes rattle
winter gusts through
gaps

Hide!

Build blanket and pillow
barriers to terrors -- like
Freddy Krueger and that
horrible tale of fingernails
scratching on a stalled car roof
My names talking Tina …
or anything Steven King ever wrote
it all makes the thought of pee
impossible

But the worst fear:
what if something happens
What would I do
if
when
age, accident or adulthood
means they are no longer down the
hall?

that fear
steams the space under
covers like a leaky
hot water bottle
tears and silent sobs
finally falling
asleep

with just the tip of a
Nose exposed
To the biting cold
outside.
 
1-20

on the whispered wind
season change, time ticks on
flesh marked bitter, puckered
scabbed and weeping
near a year since you were
born, un-born
remember,
grieve,
wound not healed
soul still open
eyes leak, feel broken

took up a quest in words
to see if a life so full of
well, just full
could empty a little onto
a screen, bring something
that means, well anything

another shooting star that blazes
away and fades into a memory
 
1-21

Sensei Crushing

He’s one of those guys from
worn out industrial towns
with cold metal winters and
lots of asphalt who stumbled
upon secrets of the east

The kind of guy you see
in Muay Thai or Capoeira competitions
and find executing
karate kicks on beaches
and Mr. Miyagi Crane poses
on pillars in malls

Wax on, wax off mantras
while polishing rides
chopsticks poised over
soggy cartons of sweet
and sour to catch a fly

I don't know why

It makes me crazy.
I want to untie that
Gi and show him that I
too know a thing or two
about Van Damme splits.
 
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1-21

Remember your half-finger? The one we called Jimmy? He had such personality he'd talk up a storm and nothing scared him. I got broken, he said, throwing rocks with other kids a wild pack runnin loose on Delancey Street. We'd climb straight up fire escapes walk along the tops of billboards like tightrope walkers no net and if some cop or Nosy Parker said Hey Whaddayou Kids Think we'd jump down and run away laughing.

Weren't you afraid?

Jimmy would just wiggle his stubby self from side to side. Naw. We knew the alleys better'n they did. We'd steal sweet potatoes and chestnuts get a little fire goin and cook in the ashes.
 
1-21

if dreamings held meanings
they'd weigh mine up and shake their hoary heads
say scientific things about roundabouts
swings and parking tickets
offloading only
in office hours

some woman in a white synth-linen coat
would bring her mop and bucket
malodorous bottle of cleaning fluid
swab down my interiors
walking backwards
squeaking a little in beige soft-soles
ignoring the crush of tall men dressed in felt reindeer suits
the bump on the head of the bawling lad
(where the blue glass vase connected, not so hard)
and the round, bronze merit stickers
that only exist in my head

as for the police woman in pale bluebell tweed
sat on the 3rd chair in the corridor nearest the theatre
nobody sees her anyway
only the popcorn kernels sometimes left behind on the tiles
 
3/13 - Magnus

It must be twenty below
out today but here he comes
jogging by in shorts and
faded Grateful Dead T.

We chatted once while
waiting at Timmie's for
latte and Boston, smiling
at our identical orders.

An artist, paints all
night and runs to relax.
I'd like to run beside
him, hear his breath
in steamy grunts and
curl beside him as he
sleeps all day.
 
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1-20 <Placeholder>

Rough night,
woke with dry mouth
and a crick in my neck
like my pillow had been
switched out for a nice
pile of bricks or maybe
cinderblock. But the
morning was better as
I came out to find her
lounging,
laid out but still coiled
in the feline way she has,
one stray look,
one absent smile,
and I was alert and painfree,
hers in every way.
 
1-22

230px-Umeshuu_Rokku.jpg


Umeshu Rokku

She seems a bit chilly
and her sweetness
is cut

by a little bite.
After some time together,
I bow low, low.
 
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