Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Beaming Past

A moonbeam kissed my window sill;
then shimmers crossed my eyes,
taunting my sleepless fairytale,
promising tempting lies.

The gust of wind that followed it;
swam through ice cold sheets;
through my feet it chilled my heart,
And carried blues to me.

Against the glass I pressed my nose,
The sky then cried for me;
I never even saw the tears,

that barreled cross the street,
cause it really never quite occurred to me.

Sharp tongued saint and callous angels;
take no pity as they grift;
they stole my moment,
or I gave it away,
whether or not it would last;

Too slow; or was I too fast.

So then I sat and shed my eyes...
but knew that it would pass.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

A Bit More Than This

Last when I polished boots of travel
Old memories then came unraveled
Of tread and treks and roads I’ve hobbled
To only wince and gaze past my shoulder
And stare directly into abyss
So I ask myself, where is forever, is it only this.

Last when I loved a dove
Of eyes and breasts I craved her love
An effervesces of magnificence
Sent me floating clouds above
In my ears she whispered,
In the bed she warmed,
And I closed my eyes and wished forever
Dreamed a dream which seemed so cleaver
But in the end I asked myself, is it only this.

Last when I dared another path
I saw my future where others laughed
with thoughts that pondered speciously
I drifted back toward memories
To watch my world pass amicably
As though it were enough
Now in my future I see death,
And blow her my sweet kiss
So now I’ve come to ask myself, it is only this.

Last when I felt her raw full passion
I knew I was obsessed
She reached across an ocean
She fluttered through the sky
With her I could forget myself
All time was just our pet
So when I knew she flew from me
My heart bid that world adieu
Though my eyes still seem to look
I now seemed to lose my wish
And now I see forever, so is it only this.

Last when I opened my deepest place
I worried it was hallow
I filled it full of kisses
And partially with love
But when I opened it again
I found that it was shallow;

So in the end I ask myself
How I’ve lived, how I’ve felt
Now in my last forever,
Past my only wish
Where did I lose my way back home?
Is it only this.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Funny Little Snowflake

A snowflake blew from Russia,
Across the sea and stopped
It melted in the Springtime sun
And fell an acid raindrop

The wind it rode that pushed its sails
Chilled the heart behind the veil
It drench a surface beneath the skin
But somehow still was hollow
It accompanied no Earth, no Wind, No Fire
So others may not follow

I watched it glide on top of eyes,
that peer and see in funny shades
Then cross a poor man’s thirsty lips
and dance its way down undulating hips

Funny little raindrop
As different as they make
Then in the winter breeze again
It turns into a snowflake.

Thursday, March 06, 2008

Adrift on Planet Earth

Happy 2008!! Wow, it's been such a long time since I've written on my blog. It might just be that I'm entering the poetry mood again. Or maybe it's boredom. Or maybe only a flicker of a former consciousness. Who knows. But if feels good to write again.

Adrift I seem so far from Earth, while reaching for the sky
I seethe with private anguish
I burst with jealous pride

And in a certain frame of mind,
I wonder where I go
I grasp at aimless motions
Transfixed by what I loathe

Disarm my smile, and glimpse a frown
My heart is rarely shown
I use a claming manner
Protrudes of charm alone

A weary face behind the mask
Stares but cannot see
The light behind my eyes are grey
And brighter to you than me.

So I walk beneath false light by day
My house of God is empty
The faith is often shook
I’ve walked in other ways
But on my knees I find myself
And in it I still pray.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

On My Mind...

This poem was originally posted on October 21, 2005, but it was swirling around my head ever since hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans. But recently, the sentiment in the poem has resurfaced in my head and in my heart.

New Orleans was my favorite city in the U.S. What I remember most was a vibrant culture, the best quality of food (for what they cooked), and music in the streets. It hardly felt like an American city, but then again, it was uniquely American. I loved that about New Orleans.

What troubles me most about these past two years is that I see very little has been learned from Hurricane Katrina. I mean, it’s hard to see if anything has been learned. From my perspective, the most pressing lessons seem to be ignored. I’m troubled by the lack of fresh thinking.

You know what I wonder?? I wonder why there is a lack of action about predatory lending. I wonder why we haven’t come to the realization that we need to help teach people to avoid detrimental financial products that harm their independence. The discussion is over, and has been for quite some time. Anyone wondering about it just needs to look at the foreclosure rates for subprime loans on houses.

You know what I also wonder?? I wonder why rebuilding a modern educational system based on math, financial planning, reading, logic and computer technology is not being installed into a school system in New Orleans that was already failing. This is the chance to rebuild education in New Orleans as a model city. And truthfully, there is no reason under the sun it CAN’T be done. Where is the courage to do so? Why must the people in New Orleans continuously be dependent on outside expertise??? Answer: The people who are supposed to be in the driver’s seat haven’t cultivated appropriate alternatives.

So I’m left to wonder. Now that all the glamour has gone out of helping out New Orleans, where are all the talking heads? Why aren’t they even contemplating the substantive problems faced by that city? Don’t believe me?? Check out their websites. Call and ask their offices what kinds of programs they have developed from scratch. Find out EXACTLY what they have spearheaded, or if they’re just in the business of damning the ineptitude of the federal, state and local government. Don’t take my word for it, call and see for yourself.

So now, while my thoughts are aimlessly moving about, I wonder…

Did we really learn anything about New Orleans?

I’m going to explore this subject again.

Peace and Love,



Why do peace officers place aged men under brutal cardiac arrest?
My favorite roux is made without blood;
Legal minds flippantly tell a spiced truth to the lenses of lying eyes;
Nero’s fiddle can be heard playing a sad song in the American South.

Uncultivated cerebellums litter the streets of old Antebellum;
Quagmires of the contemporary politic deposit useless rhetoric in an intellectual delta.
Rains of colour whitewash social etiquette;
Acts of God lift sheer veils,
through winds of merciless change.

Excuses are espoused by shameful eyes,
Tears are found in mine.
We all know how the institutions of destitution was built,
and why.

Antiquity is older than my grandparents;
And Momma and Daddy ain’t that old,
So don't jive me about days gone past.

Compassionate hypocrisy tickles a cynical mind,
The indigent are convenient play-things for political over-lords;
Still, only fools turn down opportunities to improve.

Synonymous motivations may produce opposing results,
Devious friends are sometimes lured to warm our beds,
A high-horse is no one’s bedfellow, no matter how strange it gallops;
Be cautious…
most have no idea where their heroes sleep at night;
You and your idol are fools.

Cronies competent only in their incompetence, spin fairy-tales for all to see,
Insatiable ignorance is the lust of weak minds,
Waves ripple right through the air and spew confused half-truths;
Brilliantly, they intentionally paint themselves weak;
Little do they know,
it’s long-since too late once the velvet glove falls to the floor;
To the fools of popular frenzy: your group is always one from next in line.

Dry wells quench no thrust,
whether or not our water bills are manipulated,
Starving minds soon expire,
Divided houses show decrepit dysfunction;
The roof-top may soon cave.

The ensuing catastrophe will emit an undeniable effervescence
Come closer to the table of brotherhood,
pull up a seat…

The stew is close to done

Friday, August 10, 2007

What You Know

She was…
the last echo of a pale intimation,
tactfully challenged and superficially free,
tightly pursed emotions speaking in thinly veiled animations,
windows to her soul coloured in a yellowish hue.

I thought…
time moves like a tacit ally; not an enemy.
That reconciling our private war could be done like before;
compassion growing omnipresent with intimacy;
sublimations of anger could be contorted into love;
looking through the keyhole of a closed door,
don’t yield secrets worth knowing.

We wished…
foreseeable obstacles lost their transparency in the blinding light of truth;
gliding through tears, leaving scathing scars, somehow healed pain;
mourning the living dead;
zombies are a painful phenomenon.

I now know…

nothing I didn’t see coming

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Foggy Whisper

There’s a kernel of truth in a whisper that hides between pursed lips
Its mist fogs icy stares that sink as its air rises to new depths
On that dew which blew from wet lips
Tender words trek though a wilderness of the faintly familiar to find their way home
Lost and in need of shelter they hide in ugly corners
Beneath superlatives and expletives far from Grandma’s house
Pitched and tented on hostile grounds
Complements sleep with one eye open
As the framework for peaceful resolution becomes ever-elusive
In the meantime, soft sounds grease grinding ears
Waiting for a smoother and more comforting process
But words that aren’t heard
make no noise when they fall in the forest