Calloused

He'd often contemplate
the greater good
and his contributions
His hands were calloused
and his back suffered
but later, he thought
I will be remembered
My sacrifice now
might mean greatness
in the end
And he'd stop there
think no further
That was all he needed
to maintain his faith
The cogs kept turning
the machine produced
His children
would not be hungry
But the end crept in
subtly at the start,
and then all at once
As a marble
headed for the edge
So he lay there
thinking of a life
of pained productivity
and he told himself
it was for the greater good
and he would be remembered
and it was all he needed

Inconsequential

You'll always be smaller,
than the distance
from the Earth to the Sun
And for my life and yours,
that's all that
really matters, anyway

Smellin'

Yesterday, someone strolled in
and when I approached
to offer the mandatory greeting
I was overwhelmed by it
That familiar scent
And for a moment
my legs stopped working
and I hesitated
took a moment to make sure
you weren't there
It's strange too
because thoughts of you
no longer illicit a response
like they used to
There's no more bitterness
I've sifted out the pearls
and disposed of the shell
But certain scents,
place you elsewhere
Where you don't want to be
And there's no resisting

Born to party...

Somehow,
he found himself there again
Perhaps, just thinking maybe
someone new would stand out
Disappointed again
They were all the same
The usual suspects
just wearing new masks
Scantily clad as usual
Saying, ready, willing, able
So many of them too
So many people
and he thought it strange
that he could be
so coldy alone
in such a full house
He tried to shake that
and lingered for a while
Hoping the stale air
would give way to spring
But he found his end
not long later,
said his goodbyes, and
drove home by his lonesome
The windows down
and the music soft, steady,
as he liked it with
the cool air of the night
He let the thoughts
creep back again,
just as before,
and they ate a little more
He considered each time
the mouthfuls grew larger

Nietzche

She liked that look in his eyes
That one which said
he'd seen something dark
An abyss,
and it had seen into him
She wanted to own it
To have that edge
But she wasn't familiar
with earning
So, she told her pa
she didn't like his terms
And she left
Crashed on some couches
Burned some bridges
Her phone stopped working
Started second guessing
The edge was sharper
than she thought
And then one evening
he saw her and asked,
if it felt as beautiful
as it looked
But, she offered nothing
Had seen no abyss
just the inside of her eyelids
Ignorant, as always,
and now embarrassed

Hey!

Hey, you
Yeah, you're the one
I've been looking for you
Such a sweet disposition
and the face to match

Listen if you can
this won't take long
I'll be honest with you
not just 'cause I can't lie

I don't feel the need
to tiptoe 'round the tulips
and I hate wasting breath
I think I'll take a chance

So, here goes
I'd like to date you
Yeah, I'd like that
To take you on a date

It could end there
if you'd prefer that
I just want to take a chance
to leave an impression, perhaps

I swear I'm not weird
it's just that
I don't see the point
in wasting time
and I don't want to pretend
that I'm not interested
Never saw the good in that

So, what do you say?

Crying

Is it true you never cry?
That's what she asked
out of the blue
and I laughed
No, I cry sometimes
I don't do it often,
but I've cried
Not for the same reasons
as you've weeped, though
I thought more of it later
I cried when
someone made a mistake
and killed my Queen
Fifteen years
she was with me
My only friend at times
We went through so much
He tortured her,
like he tortured me,
but we both persisted
She wouldn't leave me scared
I cried when she escaped
only for her to slither out
and right over to me
She had such a delicate face
And I was looking forward
to fifteen more,
but she let me know it was time
when she went
I had to fend for myself
And before that,
when I found Aztec
motionless and cold
No light left in those eyes
I picked up the phone
so frantic and crying
Mom came home right away,
even Dad showed up for a while,
and Aaron too comforted me
But they didn't understand
I wouldn't expect them to
Come to think of it
I don't even know
Perhaps, it's just that
they made me feel loved
because I loved them
and I made them comfortable
and they knew me best
I guess that's the thing

Poignant

Harry W. Greene has always been a hero of mine. This is an excerpt from an essay taken out of his book, Snakes: The Evolution of Mystery in Nature, in which he attempts to explain why he chose to study snakes for his profession. It's one of my favorite passages:
"At that time I had hoped to write about working as an army medic among the guys who had made it back from Vietnam, chance assignments having spared me, and about how their shattered limbs and faces still sadden me. I wanted to articulate vivid memories of automobile accidents and fatal house fires; of shooting and stabbing victims in dark, smoky bars; and especially of the faintly sour milk smell of an unconscious child, of gently puffing air into her mouth and pushing on her little chest, and finally collapsing in tears against a tile wall when the emergency room physician said she was gone. I imagined that my prose might honor a first lover and an influential teacher who each had been murdered, and that I would summom hope and gratitude for the squalling, healthy babies I had delivered. How obvious now that venomous serpents have been personal icons of danger, of life and death - as if in that crystalline moment when the fangs pierce another creature, I might finally understand my own fears and losses."

4-22-2010

Today, everything is so beautiful. The sun is at the right angle right now, and the shadows cast by the maples across the street are very lovely. And the customers have all been pleasant - even the seedy ones. I think it's because no one can resist happiness when sunlight hits the skin and warms it just so. I always loved that feeling. I think I'll make more days like this one.

Breadcrumbs

I think about her,
and try to grasp it,
or see from those eyes
that she passed down to me
Define the transitions
Calculate the curvature of the line
that led her to this point
A childhood marked by years of abuse,
and later, somewhere along that line,
she perpetuated it
Governed by irrational fear
But she found purpose,
in her independent daughter
and initially delicate son
While her men tried to repair her,
never knowing the great extent
of her past injuries
which only she could stitch
It was no one's fault
They couldn't fill the void,
and each of them crumbled
while she wilted like always
and fell back on her children
But today,
with her fledglings flown
She can't find her reason
or her way
Forgot to leave
the breadcrumbs
And, after all,
she looks in the mirror
every single day
and sees a victim
of circumstance

Like Twins

I brought him
to where we went
Those views in the palisades,
the same that enlightened us,
did not find him moved
He offered only complaints
Just inconvenient labors
and stones to stumble over
And don't find me wrong,
like the others do,
I wish only the best for him
But how is it, little brother,
that I thought him closer?
As if telling myself
that time spent
makes up for compatibility
But with you,
when it was all right,
thoughts of two would blur
and our minds would sync
together as one,
like twins separated
by clandestine schemes

Santa Rosa

This town
Pleasant little place
Every day rolls on by
looking like the last
Seems fair enough
But that pretender
named routine
it'll swallow you whole
It doesn't discriminate
Possesses no mercy
Never kills you clean
It'll wear you down
until your bones are meal
and your dreams
come only at night
Then not at all

Same Blood

That human condition,
well, for you
it just won't do
And each day,
as a magician,
you transcend
That's right
They made sure with you
Groomed for greatness
straight from the womb
I slipped underneath
Always fossorial
Never made them notice
Because potential is nothing,
but that
Well, hell, that's no pearl,
everyone's got it
I always knew that
And for me, you see,
it's there
The human element
Embittered mediocrity
Utterly impotent
That's why I always looked up,
even through the clouds
Past all the tricks
I saw, and,
you inspired me
Still do
And someday,
I'll reject it all
I promise
I'll find the animus
to inspire you too

Terpsichorean Tree

"That oak, she's a dancing lady," he said. And I could see her too; her gnarled limbs sprawling somehow gracefully out across the dewed meadow. Elegant, serene, calculated. It was past midnight, and the meadow was enveloped in fog and mysticism. The city lights were as orbs of dully glowing magma. It all aided in rendering us vulnerable to her. But upon closer inspection, resting in her arms, she was but a skeleton. Her foliage, once full and soft, had drifted away from her, not to return. Instead, her frame supported parasitic past lovers disguised as a yuletide novelty. She invited them once, and still carries them with her. Even in eternity - perpetually enamored.

Lion's Heart

Every day I consider
what you declared that night
when you found your courage
The blankets were ruffled
You sat upright
at my knee
While I lay down carelessly,
preparing to forget
the day's trials,
the night's tomfoolery
Embarrassed
Your feelings had not changed,
you said
And I said I knew
Oh, why must you love me?
Don't you know?
The same flaws that attract,
would also consume you
Just the same
as the forbidden nectar
traps the fly
And you,
you're most worthy
I know it
But something is lacking
in my heart
and I say I've nothing to offer
and I don't measure up
Bitter, uninspired
You've a lion's heart,
I could never fill it
Even though,
sometimes,
I look in your eyes
and can't help but smile
You do too
Even so,
I can't let it be
And no,
I can't explain,
because I don't understand

Fossorial

I consider her too often,
the pheasant girl,
as if she's the only one
Of course, she's not
There are the others
Those that actually recognize,
perhaps even love
And that's what I want, right?
But not them,
not now at least
It would be so lovely
for her to see me
But for all I know,
she does not
And not because I'm not right
I think I could be
and I'm not often wrong
Though, she doesn't know
How could she?
I'm invisible
I blend into everything
My outline is broken
against the background
She sees right past
All the worth,
the potential is nothing
if I do not make her see
But how?
How do I become visible?
Fossorial,
to one that looks
always to the sky.

Inclinations

These days I'm inclined to break away from civilization and sharpen sticks into spears; to leave behind my clothes and tan my hide in un-filtered sunlight; to quench my thirst in the streams bisecting fern-covered hillsides.
I'd like to nap in the dappled sunlight on a mossy oak limb, and forget about the preoccupations. I need to survey Earth's beauty from the mouth of a chasm or the crumbling edge of a cliffside; to feel the dirt in the ridges of my fingers and face; to hear the birds, and watch the lizards scurry from rock to rock, and see the trees dance to the tune of the wind.
I envision brushing the hair back from her face so that I may kiss her freckled cheeks and nose. We can lay in the mustard peppered fields among the mighty oaks and talk about the beautiful things, or not talk at all. Just sleep, humbled - her cheek upon my chest.