Saturday, April 14, 2018

How to Keep Time

like a starter pistol
shot up close
breakneck lessons
at the speed
of bumpy hayrides
pumpkin patch
in fast-jostle motion

with giggles
and stolen snapshots
one day at a time
up to bedtime
in joyous bedlam

pulling in memories
like a fighting ocean fish
gorging souls
in a cosmic fish fry
to the light
of fireflies
as children laugh
out in the dusky light

Friday, March 16, 2018

Coffee Run

on a workday hooky walk
away from the stifling desk
out and about
breathing in
the rambling New York stew

a plastic bucket drummer
fills a park
with magic beats

French-speaking tourists
shuffle by
on shoe-sore feet

spy the people
plodding on
drink in the sight of them
and then
move along

bank these visions
for later
for day dreaming
on stalled subway trains
modest joy
in the lonely life

Friday, March 9, 2018

Mad Life Fever Check

Lone wolf squad of one
in the slumber of the sun

raging daughters
with more fight than sleep
tiptoe through the darkness
in a mad poet’s creep

our night becomes morning
as we feed on the blue light
with the rest of the world
out of sight

right in our minds
with wild dreaming fever
our job
to drive mad
and be our dreams’ keepers

Friday, March 2, 2018

Covert Poets of the Cubicle Empire

Covert poets of the cubicle empire
hearts aglow with soulful wildfire
stealing seconds and minutes
to keep themselves sane
amid the mind-melting workday
that gets in the way.

Secret scribbles
and sketchers of dreams
ride the blue night
sewn up in memory’s seams

We mouth the right words
our uniforms stay
but our souls still sour
in the true poets’ way

Our secrets are kept
within some kind of trust
as most of the bosses
wish they were us

Friday, February 2, 2018

At the Tinkergarten Class

that boils down
to the pure enough

eyeing the girls
scooping mud
in headlong innocent greatness
among the clatter
and the chatter
of the catty city mothers

lone wolf father
proud among the pack
as his girls
school the other children
rule the roost

hands deep in the ground
to let the cool Earth
bathe our good anger

content, for now
to not destroy this world

Saturday, January 6, 2018

Dance of the Frozen Devils

the good marrow
can be ice and snow
as we clutch hands
and brace
against the windy cold

the warmth inside
feels better
with a thawing face
only after such blustery violence
do we find our place

drinking it all in deeply
the close comfort
leaves us sleepy
but we spark again
alive at the freezing source
to dance with fellow devils
as life runs its course

Saturday, December 23, 2017

War Letter from a Long Summer

the hard heat
adds to the thrill
of being alive

stalking scorched streets
with cold-minded eyes
in the kiln
of too many voices

being that exception,
that warrior poet
standing alone,
is enough
to make us smile
in the blaze
of the hateful sun