Monday, March 28, 2011
Camisole Stroll
Photo by Jessica Szopinski
covered like a camisole
the day hung on light and loosely
I walked through with you
our hearts decomposing
and composting a path
on which to lay our souls
steps light as aire
lent us bent on humid
baselines from edge to edge
and life lifted and burned
Submitted to One Shot Poetry....
Untitled
These frozen brain waves
catching tides crystalline edges
a hard death
cold enough to absorb sweat
and tears
and years
will melt with the remembering
synapses and synopsis’ of love
on cold fronts
frontal lobes
laden with icicles
that hang like suspended drops
of undone things
which brings
us cold on cold
together
on thoughts
of melting
layers
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Sociopaths and Narcissists
Lewis made mention of the exceptions to those who strive to adhere to the laws of human nature.
“Do unto others as you would like them to do unto you.”
or
Do unto others as they do to you.
or
There ain’t no others, there is only you.
With a house full of kids, the beginning of Lewis’ chapter caught my attention. Those verbal exchanges happen every day in the kitchen, “living” room, bathroom, etc. Citations are given out daily from mother and father for infractions ad infinitum. My wife and I adopted children to add to our biological crew. The bios understand the laws of human nature and conscience is called up when they violate these natural laws. The adopted children, however, have undergone mom’s boot camp instruction for years now and have “talks” on a daily basis on how to do the right thing by others.
We, as parents, understand where these children come from…the abuse, neglect, abandonment…we know their stories. It seems at times that their DNA is “every man for themselves”. Even after years of the same discussion about the same issues they still often default into sociopathic or narcissistic tendencies. Fetal Alcohol Syndrome often gives us real life examples of a world without natural law as Lewis puts it.
Some have FAS but others only have attachment issues from neglect and abandonment which present in very interesting ways. A liar would lie to get another liar in trouble. Both are characterized by lying so the case is thrown out by consequences for both…which isn’t “fair” but telling the truth to own up to one own quilt and saving the other from loss of freedom is out of the question.
My wife could tell detailed events of perplexity. Often when I return home she is emotionally exhausted from trying to instill the laws of human nature into our children. Lewis indeed rang true in his opening chapter.
This was submitted to Between The Lineshttp://bit.ly/fqIJZ4 book reading. Mere Christianity is the current read. Comments are for chapter one.
This was submitted to Between The Lineshttp://bit.ly/fqIJZ4 book reading. Mere Christianity is the current read. Comments are for chapter one.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
If a Bird Speaks
I like your sleeves,
they're puffy.
Your hat has the
Wright idea.
I am not looking
down on you.
Are bee hives
a pain in the neck?
If only times were
different, the sparrows
would build a nest
in your beard.
Don't worry,
I just came to
stretch a bit and
leave you a little
something.
My friends told
me about you
how you were
a watershed of
religious history.
You are like the
peak of the church
we usually perch
on,
and now you
stand here and preach
on.
What's your name again?
This is submitted for One Stop Poetry's One Shoot Sunday.
Photoghraphy of James Rainsford.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Why Did I Do You Like That?
My life in BOLD face
about face
in disgrace.
Weak willed and
succumbed to
a stiletto wind.
Every heel sometimes
breaks off ingrate.
No initial pain
of a sliver slice
and blood hesitates
to flow.
Before I know it
a valentine trail
drips leaving evidence
to find my way home.
Platelet crumbs of your heart.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Staying Kind of Love
trifecta of blue smoke
gets in her blue eyes
"if only" borne blue skies
the sugeon general
commands her attention
but she has no retention
her daughters inhaled
into the social system
match lit by father him
love is a joke now
a juggling of death sticks
her prayers of lives quits
i lied when i laughed
i wanted to yank them out
"it's not over" is what it's about
you can still freedom choose
gray face and gray sky
a warm front comes on by
bruises aren't to add color
we both know a beaten wife
is swollen from a cheated life
the sticks bobble and
gravity shakes em down
hope "wraps you like a gown"
let's get you inside
do you see that it's never over
pain comes when you're sober
nerve endings of the soul
they are friends enough
to guide you through the rough
i'll walk with you too
out of pulses of the gray
love will have a place to stay
This is for One Shoot Sunday highlighting the photography of Fee Easton.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Trolling under the Fridge
I moved the fridge out.
It’s been a couple of months.
Dust bunnies, like fog
blanket the odd lots.
Cat toys,
Cat toys,
Milk jug rings,
Number 2 pencils,
Hairy dog kibbles,
Dead bodies (army men),
Magnets huddled together,
Cap’n crunch berries,
Matchbox cars,
Legos,
Cheezits,
Pretzels,
Ornaments,
Cookie sheet?,
AND tile flooring!
This poem was a facebook inquiry yesterday...the answers to what one would find under the fridge are included above. Except those who only go under there when they buy a new refrigerator or wonder why anyone would clean under there. I am sure there are many other things you might have found under there...Well, sweep them into the comment section below.
Happy Friday everyone!
This poem was a facebook inquiry yesterday...the answers to what one would find under the fridge are included above. Except those who only go under there when they buy a new refrigerator or wonder why anyone would clean under there. I am sure there are many other things you might have found under there...Well, sweep them into the comment section below.
Happy Friday everyone!
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Or WHAT!?
Chop sticks
or
chap stick?
Both touch the lips.
Tube socks
or
tube steaks?
Both retain water.
Saxophone
or
phone sex?
Both captive…ate.
Bow Flex
or
flexing beau?
Both impress.
Violin
or
Lynn is vile?
Both can squawk.
Superman
or
rubber band?
Both are a stretch.
Gypsy queens
or
Burger kings?
Both are loosely royal.
Curtain call
or
certain fall
Both are taking bows.
Poetic justice
or
just a poet
Both are needful.
Monday, March 7, 2011
That's Wurd
Really, and spell check
underlined it.
Which, by the way is
the intent of the misspelling.
When, in the streets of
the common, if it’s wurd,
it’s an underlined truth.
There are hand gestures
that synchronize…
In sign language it’s a
double “I love you”
tilted toward ones belly.
It is not a digestion of
meaning like:
“Give me a word, any word,
and I will give you the Greek
root word.”
No, it’s simply “wurd”
and when pulled from it’s
holster it pulls the trigger
on anything held in conversational
court in the streets.
It’s approval in the jury of one’s peers.
Anything you say can and will
be held to affirm your
statement of personal opinion.
So just say the Wurd.
I’m down with that.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Take Five
Stop staring, stop acting
and get out there and make it real!
Don't you see the curtain's up on your life!
"All men die, few men truly live."
"What we do today will echo in eternity."
"To thine own self be true."
Go on, sell yourself, it won't cause death.
We both know we ran this place into the ground
and lost our souls...now all were left with is
identity confusion.
Go wait tables some where and remember
your roots. Find the someone you were before
all the make-up and masks. I will too.
In the mean time Shakespeare
will blow some wind
through here and reset the place.
I'll see you back here in five years.
Maybe then we won't have to use
this place like a controlled substance.
Maybe then when we take off the makeup
and the masks there will be an actor
that looks like he took five.
Photo by Jacob F. Lucas. It's One Shoot Sunday at One Stop. Picture this.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Shhh...listen.
The rain tapping on our van
The cat strolling down the laminate
The ice veneer on limbs cracking in the wind
The dot dashing of chalk on a board
The train howling over there somewhere
Robins talk in the maple
A line of geese returning on the distance
Whispers through the pines at attention
Snow crunches its spirits up like fog
The train wails in mourning as time passes
The furnace starts breathing again
A child turns over in bed
The garbage can flips its lid
Wheels on asphalt roll their sound
The train waits at the station
with nothing to say
but hums
as it is loading
memory
It will teach my children
to listen more attentively
when I am gone they
will recognize
the important
memorial calls
Friday, March 4, 2011
Schwarmerei
a hand out to
dance hip-hop
in a German pub
with old men at their
stations leaning
into a very dark beer
and smoke started
its movement with ours
I flipped a guy’s hat off
while bumping my
frualine into a chair
we flipped the air
and all the old men
did was stare
This week on my word of the day e-mails was German words ...here's another.
Stop by Mr. Knowitalls blog and try a 55.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Modifier Reductionism
Juggler
balls
Cook
onions
Policeman
ticket
Cow
moons
Rice
cake
Finger
nail
Parcel
post
Bride
groom
Tit
mice
Cowboy
hat
Taxi
cab
………………..
Nouns
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Sitzfleisch
Technically going round and round
and sitting down.
Systematically deconstructing
and squeezing the mystery
out of a gnat.
Oh, it’s all been said before
so they say to say it slant then.
Juggle some solid ideas
and let one fall
now and again.
Maybe it will bounce.
Maybe it will break.
It’s tiring and boring
to keep it all in the air anyway.
De evolution ize.
Re revolution eyes.
See? That wasn’t so bad.
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