JCNYC

I wanted to write and dedicate something to you

but I didn't want it to be sappy or overtly sentimental.

The problem I have with works that fall into those

categories is the schmaltzy emotion dripping off of

every syllable and conjunction. We get it, you blah,

blah, blah, blah, so and so for blankety blank reasons.

The challenge for me as I'm writing this is the hope

that if you were to read this you would understand

why I wrote it in this way. We've known each

other long enough that I think you'd get it. I'd show

it to you and you'd have a laugh which is exactly

what I am intending. Now to reign this in and try

to go for a big finish. The buzzer is down to the last

two seconds as the ball flies through the air from

the three-point line as it approaches the net. The

whole crowd waits with baited breath as one as

it gets ready to make and break a few peoples day.

tossed off

erase what you just wrote and

replace it with what you just

thought.


guess, then guess a second time

in hopes of getting the right

answer.


these word choices are awkward

at best. this is not very good work

at all.


it's been done before.

Godliness

Little lamb

running down the hill,

where are you

running to?


Little lamb

the Lord demands a

sacrifice for the bounty

of his grace.

Events of No Historical Importance

crying in a restaurant

and not remembering why.

a dead end cul de sac

with other similar families.

the first day of school,

so fearful. 

cutting the finger,

blood gushing from flesh.

returning to the land 

of your family

and feeling yourself

a stranger.

being the new kid in school

in fourth grade,

never having thought about

the meaning of your last name.

moving to a new home

early in high school.

that same summer

grandfather died.

wondering what love is

around that time.

high school, what a joke

that is for everyone.

a painful awkwardness

that is a lifelong condition.

a poets heart beating 

through shirt pocket,

pulsing beats pounded

out through a closed hand.

friends? always.

girls? rarely.

the outsider communion

music brings.

books read alone in silence,

words written in the same state.

the pursuit of education,

the dream you've believed.

the struggle of life.

the battle of self.

this history brought

into the present.

summer game

tie your kite to the tree

and watch it fly

while bound

to the earth.

stress

the back

always bends

before

it breaks.

Scenes From An Ordinary Haunting

this will decays

like flesh buried

beneath ground.

biological forms

disintegrate into

atoms until the form

has returned to the

natural state of

dis

      order.

fearlessly,

or

naively,

we're braving

the call

of the open

road once

again.

_ , ( ) & [ ]

_ spend too much time

creating distance,

trying to make

the subjective

objective.

_ (  ) not always

good at this.

perhaps _ should

(  ) willing to

change,

or better yet

[                           ].

d id you notice when

t he rain

g athers

a t your feet.

a reflection stares back

a nd searches

a curious face.

t he rain

k eeps falling,

f ootsteps

m uted as

p links and plops

f ill your

  ears.

Sometimes you

have to know

when to pull the mask away

and show the world

as you really are.

Digging

capture the moment in an image.

an ember burning bright,

moments already passed.

finding each other in

past life archaeology,

what strange creatures we've

become.

your archaeology

is endlessly

fascinating

to me.

in this darkness

in this darkness

there is still light

shining through the cracks

waiting

calling

to us

waiting

to light

the whole

of the room

Don't hold your hope in your hand,

release it into the world.

The Ghost At Home

More often than not

I am a ghost

Clambering clumsily through 

The walls in my head.

On occasion I find other ghosts

As I look out the windows

Into the world outside.

Gazes meet and exchange

Quick glances 

As we move through 

Dense fields

Of vision.

Well?

are you content with

a replica of life,

or with

life itself?

On Quality

No amount of hype can bestow 




quality on a thing 




that intrinsically lacks it.

On Narrative

We always have the power to change or leave the narrative.

vanishing points

I thought I knew the where but

when the why

came knocking

I wasn't sure in what direction

to point to.


Every road

leads to the forest,

the trees

become the horizon.


A vanishing point of green,

our desires

inconsequential.

lifetime masquerade ball

this face

is a mask that has grown comfortable to wear.

seamless from my flesh

i am behind it.

i move easily because of it.

the rubber is warm,

my breath

falls back onto my skin

as I fall into sleep.

For Steven Hoffman / Gestalt Temperament

It is a dream you cannot remember.

A face you've seen

yet seems strange.

A half remembered moment of your childhood.

The hours you and I have wasted

staring at these infernal screens

defining our age.

Find yourself here.

Find yourself in now.


Post Script:

thoughts move fast.

the fingers don't always know

what's happening.

Living Space

this space

i am living in

4 walls

a roof

a window with a nice view of

a lemon tree

the breeze blowing outside

these thoughts like

cars speeding along the open road

no destination in mind

just the journey

of space to space

motion and stillness

all in one

this space

i am living in

4 walls

a roof

a window

these thoughts

wondering

how are you today?

call

let me know

i'd like to hear

your voice

once again

Warranty

i threw it away

because i had no use for it

anymore

it was an empty reminder

of what had been

but no longer was

she told me to keep it

but i couldn't understand

her reasoning for keeping a

reminder

of such a dead thing

i should have asked her to

clarify but

i figured it best not to

i had no regret seeing it

sit there on top of the pile

of garbage

facing its fate

a death that only

inanimate objects can know

or amorphous words such as

love

hate

hope

faith

how can there be one standard

definition in the dictionary

for any of those words

that conjure up so many

tendrils

snaking around synapses

a lifetime

or experience bays

and flashes in a moment

of cinematic

display

memory shown in high definition

the reel runs

on a fleshy gray hard drive

with a shelf life

it knows

will short out one day

there will be no replacement

model

no upgrade that can be made to save

the machine from being replaced

by the new model

being manufactured

newer

sleeker

the available amount of storage space

tends to an average

that rarely changes

the machine varies in its make

but all based on a design

with occasional modifications

by the user

none of us are sure

if our warranty

is still good

or if it has expired

already.

When It's Your Turn

hearing a voice

that is not your own

calling you

from the edge of a dark room.

do you approach,

or cower?

infinite expanse

words have been lost.

innner space is expanding,

a galaxy without end.

how can order

be maintained?

how does the form function without reason?



the most recent dalliance of the unattainable.


let's do something with these lips

Post-Rapture

There was very little to do 

after the rapture except for 

having to clean up the few piles 

of clothes left scattered around.

It only took about a week.

Believers of the other faiths

that remained held great

debates about what it all meant.

The rest of us kept moving.

Not surprisingly

the traffic in Los Angeles

was just as bad as ever.

Ghost Machine

you bring my inside out

Ghost Machine

what devils will you bring

Ghost Machine

what is left unseen?

a final death

What ever love there once was

has gone.


What memories remain

are tarnished.


The present continually

burying the past.


Our hands burying

our faces.


The metronome broken,

time standing still.

the pressure

is building it is mounting it is ever present

it is prescient it is more aware of the self than

the self is of itself it builds faster than a team 

of construction workers in the summer sun

their voices swearing and cursing the name

of god the one who made the one who cast

his favor onto us for a horrible disappointment

are you sure he is disappointed yes i am pretty

sure so am I cast in his image are we statues

for such a servile purpose our thoughts run

afoul of our actions and the two stop to think

about what the present course will be but they

never seem to agree on anything so what can

they do but agree to disagree splitting the 

difference the blithering voices of the fools

of our blood never cease to be never cease

to speak their inanities the cause of ill ease

can't go back can't take back this no one no

not no one are we begging yet are we willing

to scream please are we aware of our lives 

as a planetary disease spread without check

across the skin of gaia have you wondered 

what she is doing to solve her problem this

infestation on her situation the placation of 

our conscious thoughts with simple baubles

too shiny to look away from oh so pretty oh

you pretty thing how easily you believe all 

the things they say about you could be tell 

me some pretty things too lie to me lie to

you lets pretend lets pretend there is no 

raison for this to no longer be we we wii

what is the symptom of awareness in this

state of hyberbolic reality there is a thin

line of sanity that is being erased as we draw

it in the sand but there is no one to keep 

track so we erase what we create we create

only to erase we are builders bent on destruction

we are builders who excel at demolition there

is a final consequence to this position this 

mission full of folly oh golly will you please

refrain and reframe this argument into some

thing resembling words or order or sense or

hope or anything but chaos and madness and

depression and hopelessness a fear a dread

of the unseen and unsaid there is no hope 

but there always is thats the paradox to our 

lives and world that we constantly live our 

lives until it all blows out like a candle on a

picnic table in the evening at the end of summer.

grains of sand begin falling

like a harsh rain upon the bed.

the weight on my chest

increasing, a matter of

breathing in.

___________


the roof collapses when there are no walls to hold it.

Associative Construction

scratched cat

fever is just a symptom of an illness

raised temperatures

fahrenheit and celsius

uncomfortable degrees

the only means of betterment in a time of collapse

towers like Babel

languages spilling out on tongues

rivers flowing

language a construct

edifices towering

misconstrued

who made the blueprints

where is the foreman

this structure

free from it

freed from it

when is the now of this existence

imagination leads thoughts

dreams

the currency of our ambitions

Will this rain never end?

The storm gathering strength once more.

The crack of thunder in the distant valley

Echoes, windows shudder as drops begin

To fall. A gray that cannot fade.

tongue

I    


NEED


to cut out


my tongue


be fore it says

what it 


NEEDS TO SAY

Turning Point

One day they will ask

when the turning point was.


I will pause for a moment

to remember the day and year.


I will speak and point to the

days that have just passed


and know that to be an

irreversible truth.

Between 1 a.m. and 6 a.m.

The quiet land rests beneath darkness

as lights cross her with determined velocity. 

Hours and Miles peel back the endless expanse.

We sit ready for the miles ahead.

Black skies turn Gray.

Gray skies turns Blue,

wheels turns

at an even pace,

the journey 

almost through. 

Everything That Rises Must Converge

our anger and joy

rise from us

and become

whatever we will

them to be.

the end of history will come

in one final moment of silence

2 things I should have probably written on a piece of scratch paper

is it a problem of

want

or

scarcity?

_________

Have you ever tried to remember the details of a dream

days or weeks after that night?

Have you ever seen a sandcastle disintegrate into the

water as the tide comes in?

Grains of sand losing form and falling into the unkempt

reaches of the beach.

black angel

black angel dancing for me

black angel singing beneath bowed canopy

black angel what do you see when you see through me

               

list

ambitious

ineffectual

perpetual dreamer

lazy

cheerful

good natured

smartass

forgetful

night owl

quiet

conversational

headspace

veined arms

disciplined

methodical

bookish

strong willed

unsure

certain

positive

Ashes & Bared Teeth

I.
The fire blazed deep into the night as the ashes
rose to heaven and danced in the moonlight.

In the morning the smoldering ruins were
nothing more than the remains of memories

soon to be lost to the passage of time.


II.
What was once sacred has been debased
and left for the wolves, blood dripping

from their muzzles, teeth bared and ready
to rip out our throats when the opportunity

of our misfortune falls onto the ground.

on a circular path

it ended much in the same way it began.

there wasn't a lot to say.

standing there wondering if things would ever change

even as the planets spun on 

their axis.

all journeys are circles

I thought.

silence filled the world with 

our hopes and fears.

it wasn't strange being there,

just an expected part of the journey 

that out lives us all.

To All Women

I'll avoid the obvious platitudes in commenting

upon your beauty and personality.

stare

sitting in front of the screens flickering

light, we can only sit silently,

watching and wondering.

eventually, not even

that.

waking during a warm afternoon

Time is never enough when it is here

and when it is gone

it is gone

and

there is nothing

any of us can do then.

the end of winter

branches quiver in the winter wind.

leaves only memories of seasons past.

sunlight strays through gray;

a promise of times to come. 

boss

There is a certain pleasure

In creating on ones own.

No one else to answer to,

No one else to impede

Progress. 

For better or worse,

Art unfiltered. 

Get yourself together dear.

We need to get going.

We don't want to be late.

It looks fine.

Really.

_______________


What hand is this that wields the power
of life and death? A hand that can soothe
and strike down.


Will you strike me down

when I reach my hand to you

looking for a friend to look to?
_________________


Let is pass

Let it die

There is nothing

Left for you

Here

running river

I ran along the river 

hoping to find 

its end.

My legs tired 

as it kept running

without me.

go ahead and ask...

What of then?

What of now?

What of when?

Ask me now or

never again.

Mirrors Everywhere

We

LOVE

to stare at

pictures of

ourselves.

Jealous dog,

do you want

that bone as well?