MY OEMS-PAY
some of them anyway.
I know
I know the sadness
Inside me grows
And dims
To a minute candle
Light that I write to
Suffering
Hurt
Animosity
To not grow
Only the knowledge
That one day
One
Day
That my children
Will grow
With an enormous
Brightness
That I did not
Know
Until now
$28 @ an antique boutique
I wear
A neck
Lace of gold
Tapered around
My chest
C.E.B.
Encrested upon it
N graved
And
When opened
Two photos
B & W (lack and hite)
One sleeping
(or accidently blinked)
The other
School-
Marm
Unwarm
Staring
Locked to a pose a threat
To anyone who D.A.R.E.
Open the lock
Et sans savoir
The secret held
Within
4
I stroll
With a smile
And all the while
I ‘no’ no secret
That is set upon
My face
5
I cannot sleep
Maybe from boredom
Or from the
Co-ca-co
La
Still pulsating
Between
My teeth
Throat
Knees
Toes
So…
What if:
The hokey poeky is really what it is all about?
6
I listen
Not wanting to
Stammers of
Idiosyncratic tendencies
That matter
Not
To me
katastraphy
I’ve been set
Up with lies, propaganda
Propagandi
Up set stomachs
Disease
Betrayal
Denial
Rabble in
The tower of babble
Scrotching my nerve
Endings
Beginning to make me
Topple, tumble, tremble
Scared of things to come
Or to never
To be
Thess. 5:21
Appea—to be evil
Or virtuous by stand
—ards
Up-held by
others
not
you
or the majority
(for that matter)
As a matter of fact
Or fiction
Whether you believe
Or not
Why
Not?
Or
Choose to be
Virtuous—
—rance to be evil.
Under an arch in Warsaw, Poland
The pitter patter of warm solid rain
On cobblestone streets
Keep the rhythmic beat
On a Tuesday afternoon
Floral sheets cover my face
And small body
In a motherly
Grasp
My moist eyes
Closed
Focusing on the dream
Of sunny days
Warm sand between my toes
And ocean water
Salty to the taste
Moving quickly over the horizon
I dance
B
OX step
Waltzing
With a stranger
That has come from the shadows
Spouting wit
As a poet
Of long ago
Within my blushing ear
Smiling
Suddenly
An eruption from above
Bright and mighty
Zeus in a jealous rage
Thrusts his bolt
Towards me
In one ear
And
Out the other
An alarm
Forced upon my warm embrace
And cut into my soul
To reveal a melancholy day
Eyes wide open
To see the rhythmic beats
Over the cobblestone streets
Of my life.
A late night at denny’s
I want the teddy bear
Underneath
His melancholy eyes
Express want
For me
Longing
Waiting
For one chance
To be held
Pressed softly against
My warm body
His cold fur
Raised
Scared to be with any
Other than
ME
A great deal of quarters
Sacrificed
Just to DREAM
Next to one another
In perfect bliss and harmony
Yet the logos comes
Hidden behind a vale
Concealed between my hands
And the metal claw that holds
You
To
Me
Howling to obtain another
Fifty-cents
To play the odds
And set
THAT TEDDYBEAR
Free.
In an ocean
no where to go
arms tired and weary
of treading water
the pressure cradling me
in contempt
never really knowing
the circumstances
or situation
in which you are drowning.
"I wonder"
he asks smiling
incredulously upon the couch
"what you are thinking."
Too young to die
I met a tall gentleman
while strolling curiously home
from Sunday school
I already had my lessons that day
my head
I thought
was full.
"How young you are to be
traveling all
alone." He said
As his dark figure towered
over mine.
I strained my tiny neck
to catch his mysterious gaze
and realized
I was staring back
at Death.
Emily had written about him once
A fate i could not believe.
Assuming this, I did proceed,
"Has death befriended my destiny?"
At noon day in Germany
At noon day in Germany
desire took place
for a multi-color wheel
of sugary delight.
Sprinting around nude
circumnavigating the globe
of the luscious yard
like Magellan.
Searching for this pinwheel of joy
my tongue dripping
from anticipation--
Suddenly,
I turn
to find my mother
snapping a photograph
and PEEL-ing
the sucker
from off my rear--
end.
Lovers Lane
Two trembling hands--fly
over unsuspecting words
an engine full of heat and pressure
whispering soft tones of love
breath taking to the ear
biting the lower lip
closer then it appears
of a rear-view mirror friendship
not real
yet
we press up against the cold leather
fogging the windows
our two sweating statues
wanting to exchange
the thing we want the most
Is there enough
words, glances, or notes
observed and preserved
for another day
Our ample, succulent lips
caressing Great Expectations
not upheld
like a rotten wedding cake
not touched.
Late for work
I am blinded
by the sunny appearance of dreams
and metaphors of tall green trees
perhaps i will be able to grasp
the everlasting concept
of reality
Suddenly awakening to a boisterous
alarm clock
of continuous
NOISE.
when all you want to do
is sleep.
in.
-NPR Poem
In case you hadn't noticed,
it has somehow become uncool
to sound like you know what you're talking about?
Or believe strongly in what you're saying?
Invisible question marks and parenthetical (you know?)'s
have been attaching themselves to the ends of our sentences?
Even when those sentences aren't, like, questions? You know?
Declarative sentences -- so-called
because they used to, like, DECLARE things to be true
as opposed to other things which were, like, not -
have been infected by a totally hip
and tragically cool interrogative tone? You know?
Like, don't think I'm uncool just because I've noticed this;
this is just like the word on the street, you know?
It's like what I've heard?
I have nothing personally invested in my own opinions, okay?
I'm just inviting you to join me in my uncertainty?
What has happened to our conviction?
Where are the limbs out on which we once walked?
Have they been, like, chopped down
with the rest of the rain forest?
Or do we have, like, nothing to say?
Has society become so, like, totally...
I mean absolutely... You know?
That we've just gotten to the point where it's just, like...
whatever!
And so actually our disarticulation... ness
is just a clever sort of... thing
to disguise the fact that we've become
the most aggressively inarticulate generation
to come along since...
you know, a long, long time ago!
I entreat you, I implore you, I exhort you,
I challenge you: To speak with conviction.
To say what you believe in a manner that bespeaks
the determination with which you believe it.
Because contrary to the wisdom of the bumper sticker,
it is not enough these days to simply QUESTION AUTHORITY.
You have to speak with it, too.
