It's Weird

I no longer 

want to be a poet

based on

writing a poem each day.

I, now stronger,

want to be a poet 

based on

how I see the world each day.

Profound Yet Effortless

What am I doing with my art?

Am I actually creating something beautiful or is it just garbage in garbage out?

Am I taking time to create utmost beauty; am I intimately involved with patience and skill?

Am I focused yet in the flow in order to make something which is actually profound yet effortless?

Can of Tobacco

Dear God how did I ever forget I've become a painter?

I must be unwell

call for the horses and the damned street signs

I am going to get a can of tobacco and make a run for it.

The Levis Strauss company has shuttered

the green girls are counting ice cubes

I am left on the dust-filled prairie

with the sheep and the hogs

docile and ferocious

unable to speak clearly

to the dreams that I had

full of fruit punch.

Dissidence in Black

The Ethiopian coffee is dripping then it starts to rush

when I move the filter and suddenly it cascades with noise

and I am waiting on it to unfill

so that I can calmly wipe the plate

and then enjoy a cup of strange dissidence.

Mass

When six days long a lifetime seems to pass, a bomb held like a kitten in a glass.

The second glance becomes a look that lasts, while fat cats count the vowels during mass.

Tiny Feet

The feline crept along the wall the ivy brushing up against her fur

she was seeking a small mouse which she saw run

in the shadow along the wall

The garbage trucks and puddles splashed

but it did not dim

her determination

in the street light

she could still sense

the rumbling of his tiny feet.

The Rats

I totally get that figure of speech

I get it like a fig being eaten by a monkey

and lost to the rats...

Next one is my call. 

Peachy Earth

The Earth has just split the apple in two

down to the molten core

as it turns out

the world is a peach.

Looking

I looked closely at the coral, each tiny hole and divot

imagined the diver that picked it up from the sea floor

then put it on the shelf

I looked closely at the book, each letter and curve of the b

imagined the writer that slaved over his desk

then put it on the shelf

I looked closely at the tiny box

full of jewels and designs on top

enough to make your eyeballs spin

opened it up and saw that it was empty

turned the tiny clasp to the left

and put it on the shelf

I am a curious soul

but as it turns out

I should stand in the wind and just look at nothing.

Another Bird

Your passionate attitude will need to be curbed

we've thrown it all away like sawdust

Your mindfulness retreat will need to be postponed

it turns out no one needs your advice

Your cunning methods to manipulate the mindset

have turned a good heart to stone

So long, so long

another bird takes flight

into the starry night.

Ode to Shiny Cats

Deep in the valley of the mind

Far away in the shadow of the soul

Near to the nuance of the night

Towards the faucet to get a drink of gin

Push the handle back to get a taste

Throw caution to the tornado

Hurl the Bible at the broken glass

Toss the nickel into Buckingham Fountain

Holler to her as she walks past

Mutter something made for magazines

Swallow the bitterness 

Saunter like a shiny cat

Pillowcase Pirate

The pillowcase on the bed is smoother now

than when the moon shone

stoned in the sky

reckoning me before I even knew what reckoning was

now the ship is sailing

into the black night

I had no idea I was the pirate

gold tooth and all

put an eye patch on St. Therese

the whole building is about to fall down

Permission

The permission to flip the found objects into art

the allowance to shop for the shoes that will sit on the shelf

the soiled letter I wrote and then ripped up

The toast I made to his health

The floundering fish underwater so bright and shimmering slowly

as she swam into my mind and I swallowed

under the cover of darkness

the pirate swims out to his ship