poems

written on a train

2009-11-04T18:30:00.000-08:00

TIMES

2009-09-24T11:19:00.001-07:00

I will be out tomorrow (Friday Septermber 25th) afternoon. Usual spot (University Pl. between 13th & 14th Streets).

Poems 9/24/09

2009-09-24T11:13:00.000-07:00

Trash

for Molly

ages of the seasons

your shreds ripped, calling

materials mixed:

moments, memos, mementos

reasons, reasons

some left others gone-

thrown casually as others-

as when fall,

infinite blossoms, deathly still and crackling

out the window looked.

--------------------------

On First Opening Eyes

On first opening eyes the silently bright piercing light. Eyes eyes broken eyes scheming to again. On first opening eyes the jarring sound of awake and conscious the reality as it catches within unsteady lungs. On first opening eyes scents left to night uprising violent from current peripheral. On first opening eyes swinging feet off the bed and acting on the first promise of the day, tooth brushing, yawning, shitting whatever it may be. Or have been. On first opening eyes, on first promise of day, on second promise of day, those other things disturbing the solitude so perfectly crated, artisan dreams, and the emptiness of the unfulfilled. Sullen and somewhat sleepless still  opened eyes break upon new shores of vision, slight cracks opened breaking from folds obscure. This deep deep quiet of oceans below oceans under sea level and you the naive diver unaware of the bends and now the hyperbaric of morning, ah the painful lust of understanding. And here you still are your half-awake self lulled back and forth conveyed to sleep and back to wakeful with worries of before a deluge unending. Over and over you repeat to self, if only ten minutes longer, if only, the feeling much softer, much better. And suddenly a soft sweetness, the first song of morning, the heavenly sound of gentle vocals hum of accompaniment. Swaying slightly on her little breeze and rhythm of movement, too, sinking in. Moments and moments later you will remember this moment and the tranquil alive rushing through to a heady place. Attracting floes of thought and now the speedway has been opened difficult impossible to shut, revel in it. Finishing last exercises and things undone. Do what you came to do and get out. Out into the vast globe and compression of matter, force uplifting downtrodding and out you go go go. The shattering of before now a picking up and regrouping, collected almost you feel and brilliance descents as if from gods. Praise the Lord, one shouts in the distance, and you do not object. And from first opening eyes to first activities of day, the swinging pendulum swings sweet.

----------------

Southerly winds and sudden heat.

Pages sliced beachside while sipping sangria.

Summer at the Seashore, Hamptons.

Some thoughts, thank yous and "Children" for the man who's e-mail address I lost

2009-09-11T10:38:00.000-07:00

Hello World,

At the moment my Poem Shop is on hiatus (rain, chill, classes, distance between Upper West side and 13th & University), meaning if you stop by during my usual hours you will NOT find me writing. For this I am sorry. I truly would love nothing more than to sit and watch your grumpy/quizzical/smiling/insert-adjective-here faces file past, then backtrack and ask me for poems. SO, this is how it is going to work from now on until I can set up a regular schedule again. I will post either the night before, or the morning of, my location and hours. I doubt anyone checks this blog that often, but if one does, I will be findable. In any case, I will still be writing poems and will still be posting them here.

Second order of business: I would like to thank a few people that have helped me out over the summer. First, family (though you all probably never read this), second Kale and the three french poodles (they are french poodles, right?), Charlie (I hope that is your name) and basset hound Cecilia who brought me water every morning, and the doormen at 8 University Pl. The guys from Cinema Village (is that where you work?). Just putting that out there. William. And of course all of my customers (kindest, most generous).

Finally:

I don't remember what your name is, but you wanted a poem about "Children" (you came by with your fiancée/girlfriend/significant other and bought another poem a week or two after asking for this one). Anyway, I moved and lost your e-mail in the move. Since I haven't seen you/won't see you for a while and want you to get your $2 worth, here is your poem:

Children

manifest temptation and the cycle of sin repeating to no end

causation causation and DNA replication

one in another and one in another

one and one two and two being one, now three

define on what is not

define on possiblity

define concepts arrived at at youth

youth begetting youth

still youth

cyclical errors and time misspent

buckle down, clench teeth, get to it

below the threshold of higher human capability

animalistic tendency, rip open the box.

Anayvelyse

September 11, 2009

New York, NY

8/25/2009

2009-08-25T19:02:00.000-07:00

One of My Friends Died Last Week

eking out an existence

coronary impulses to make a break

subversively bloodstream

canceling out those minor medical epiphanies

us resulting in a total of fleshy mass

how to recall a being after death

----------------------

Only a Dollar

only a dollar

suffices to save

stow it away

million years later

more than any other

one little dollar

begets more little dollars

----------------------------------

Leaving

the bifurcation of paths

as I separate leaf from stem

splitting hairs to unravel a distance,

quantify absence.

The slivers strewn across park fork

and you and I leaving

while these hands leafing.

some time last week

2009-08-25T18:54:00.000-07:00

La Route

stuck on the current

petals as to us

broken off wayside

and grappling with inertia

pausing only briefly

spoken words to the lilt of the wind

------------------------

New York

Speaking words of a linear sort

not unlike city and its speak

grappling with foreign idioms

an idea lost in visual translation-

pushed inwards

space shared-

though sounding communicable

needing pre-digestion, deeper immersion

getting to the bottom of this

speak

---------------------

Poem for Josephine

stack the block

topple the block

seize the block

throw the block

eat the block-

no, don't eat the block-

hold the block

just hold the block

pack the block

love the block

----------------------

A Blue Trolley

broken

particles

littered

countryside

you took the train

and when it

snap

ped

a crumb l i n g disappointment

so venged.

Poems 8/24/09

2009-08-24T18:31:00.000-07:00

Chaos

begging the quiet of surrounding city
lengthy digits to snuff sirens as if pulling coins of lunar magnification
silent you slept in that bed
and now, return
here submerged in sound chained to motion
sweeping through mountains tunnel married
record skipping when replayed
and then attainment-
what you asked for-
loneliness of the boulevard at dawn

--------------------------

Smells

diaspora of the living
opening onto your horizon of cleanliness
your bleach as the stench stings
cracking open the palette and allowing a drizzle of drool
the subway at night after you
forty second 7 and i bathe in it
hold on train, thoughts pool
hold fast, would that i could stay longer
and back home sooner than expected
back to bleach
back to your diasporic cleansing

---------------------------

Future

opening onto concrete realities and their manifestations
triggering processes linked to chains of events:
dinner out
diner, chrome booth and counter top
burger medium well deluxe
and what follows:
cook
eat
water
eat
clearing of plate & check & pay
outta there and feeling satisfied
determining the enjoyment despite the things lost in the process
feet carry to where they know to go.

9/06/09

2009-08-06T21:26:00.000-07:00

Wrestling/Angst

We as if two, split from one, the mat of the mind
going down, one of us will,
and there then, ankles clasping fitfully
the soft plastic acquiesce
th loser, sore and grappling with the whys
and nots home goes to nurse wounds and arguments.

-----------------------------------

Laptop

once on a trip for computer repair
told: laptops for laps
are not meant
and the surprise
as it weighed down my inside
incorrect usage of a precious product,
how could I?
why new news to hearing ears?
where shall it sit now from seat banished?

-----------------------------

And People On the Other Side of the World

Once a tunnel dug on the beach
seafoam washing up inside falling up into
another beach with people just the same
narrowly squeezed through to see where, I
could be found
same place it seemed,
though I could be wrong.

8/05/09

2009-08-05T20:43:00.000-07:00

Lotus

for Whitney

some thoughts lifted off the leaves of a lotus:

what time do blossoms ripen, breaking open so sweetly?

floating so delicately seems so difficult

can you teach me how?

did you say something, dear flower? I couldn't hear.

---------------------

Magic

I open two cans and put them together in a bowl.

I stir.

I fork.

I lift. (fork lift? similar idea).

Mouth.

Disappear.

Magic!

-----------------------

Creating a Stylistic Impediment

for Someone New

using devices of the mind

whipping out old modes of communication

e.g. rotary phone, typewriter, perhaps even manual writing tools (see pencil)

working towards a poetic goal:

laureate, published writer, reader at local cafe

once goals achieved, can label self as ___________

fill in the blank with the word that fits

then there's the rub, what to do now?

the established man must continue towards an ideal,

if not literary greatness, then at least philanderer at corner bar

Unfortunate circumstances ensue:

can't write, won't read (reading makes realize what

a failure at life self is), can't tell others as

they will lose confidence/ placate with "don't be stupid,

you're profoudly prolific!" and other such tritisms

Yes, all alone you are now, with no one in the world who can help you

but yourself (God: the lord helps those who help themselves),

you now have the perfect impediment.

Now for the stylish bit...

7/31/09

2009-07-30T21:19:00.000-07:00

Something thought of while de Kooning was discussed

and underneath it all
(those lights blaring symphonically
from rooms left unexplored)
he was a firefly blinking out, at a distance

--------------------------------

Millipede
for Laura Brown

as you climb up that leafy stalk
chewy I imagine you
crunchy perhaps against the snapping verdancy
like a mustard spread salty against lettuce
you smeared would be delicious

-----------------------------

Broken Ankles

those demoiselles chopped even further
the cracked angles of curves
dislocated past the point of recognition
perhaps taking it too far
replacing those faulty brush strokes
with those of women more put together

7/29/09

2009-07-29T19:19:00.000-07:00

Sea

epic pointillist
salt burnt against the boat's edge
rowing back and forth

-------------------------------

Ephemeral

like the car sirens as the
spinning light/sound cuts through
the humidity, the daze as I cross the street
unconsciously, just barely missing the screech
of wheels fast-paced as they ride up against
the rubber of new shoes, just missing hot flesh/
tired flesh, it too, ephemeral

--------------------

Together

some words, when you say them
like the sound of clogs as you walk up
stylishly architectured wooden floors
that scuffing sound
that choking-as-if-trying-to-escape, persistent sound
to -- like the ball of the foot catching
the sound before the slide and fall-- gether

--------------

7/24/09

2009-07-24T20:09:00.000-07:00

Irascible

The radio announcer
when the show's gone wrong
you see him through the glass wall
his head in hands
shouting at all that disturb his
delicate solitude
an image out of a fifties film
picturesque disquietude

---------------------------

Shaniqua is crazy

the frightened rabbit in the coop
hearing the sound of the jackal outdoors
ah, how the fear streams through fur
as if anticipating the external flow of blood
the jackal unknowing, unseeing, unsmelling
loud, boisterous, he laughs at the moon.

---------------

Sparrow

Looking to skip stones riverside,
I told you
"you look like a sparrow"
and what I meant you didn't understand
though not some idea lost in translation
more the words pouring out my mouth a nonsensical flow of emotion
I meant to say:
"there is something in your cheekbones, your nose, your mouth,
something decidedly bird-like
resembling specifically a sparrow"
and there were other things, too
your teeth, which I think are a 7.2
and more...and more...

-------------------------

Poem for Jennie

there is something that catches me
each
and every
time
I look at those waves of color
as they distribute themselves
over the cover of your mind
sometimes it's a swooning feeling
otherwise just a
hello

7/22/09

2009-07-23T07:31:00.000-07:00

Marly

passing cumulus

eclipse

your face I missed

I thought

walking through thick crowds

thinning

I saw your face in another's

not yours, truly

but similar enough to

provoke memory

the moon of last night

as the clouds passed over

-------------------------------

Love Poem for My Girlfriend

Like the glue in those special tubes

I'm afraid this glue,

this glue has stuck me to you

the emergency room

they say will help me get it off

but suddenly, I have no desire to.

----------------------------

Fearless

rickety rails-

on a carriage to the distant

the prayer

patron of don't crash-

the arms as they wrap round

cushions caked with courageousness

racing onwards

rail through the mountains

7/18/09

2009-07-19T15:49:00.000-07:00

Portrait of Wendell

what hides behind sunglasses
painted silver?
some kind of
aesthetic mix
a dark brown and olive green
like nature
-forest
I wonder what eyebrows look like
upside down.

-------------

Poem for Diana

Days spent like a mirage
the recurring processes
each action folding into another
no patience to register the minute changes
discrete variables of our time

7/16/09

2009-07-16T18:15:00.000-07:00

Halfrican-American

elsewhere

the vague continent of origin

a forgotten relic

this addition of heritage of such import

we race to describe

ethnicity

the cross we bear

"ah, my mother's from...

but she lives in...

though she's really..."

in truth

just words

words to tear down bridges

----------------

The Unknown

It is amazing

what such a small word can hide

the assumption

when broken in half

delving into it

hands covered in silence

the cacophonous noise withdrawn

the safety within

--------------

When People Walk Dogs in the Dog Park, They Look at the Dogs and Think How Differently They Look Never Considering How Different Are the People Walking Them

the stench of the first arrival

he looks around

so does she

the faces

as different from one as the other

the empathetic mix of domesticated and domesticator

the run

the run wild

with color

size/shape

looking up

the difference rests unnoticed

-at least on his end.

7/15/09

2009-07-15T21:39:00.000-07:00

Computers

the manual hand
scribe of the millenia
outwritten
by the computing machine
mass of metal wire
plastics to conquer the world
word processor
to miss the clack
the crash
the poor manual hand
as it aches forgotten

----------------

4

Four stops away on the metro
deep evening light
cityscape glides through the window
respiration/expiration
from the outside to the in
Four long minutes to wait
next stop
boarding/descending
the cold pastic turned warm
just barely uncomfortable
three stops away on the metro

--------------------

Teenage daughter doesn't listen to Father

unfortunately
you don't know
everything
as old as you are
as gray as your hair is
the words that pile out of your mouth
hang in the air
with such exceeding weight
mean nothing but trouble
and I
stay out
of
trouble
at all costs
I will leave them hanging

7/14/09

2009-07-15T07:28:00.000-07:00

Mermaid

Trapped on the islands of the city
sailing through the confines
as if on a voyage far away
the eruption of the sweetest voice
the boat catches
breaks upon the reefs of my soul
and stuck stranded between here and there
I think I will rest
just an age longer
just a second longer
as the sweetness flows through my ears.

------------------

Blueberry

Dripping off a branch
dropping into an outstretched palm
dripping into an outstretched mouth
dropping through to a stomach hungering
as drips of juice drop down a pale chin

---------------------

333

numerical perfection
as if golden
godly number of numbers
multiples
similar, the same
repetition
as if a mantra
they fall from clouds like the rays in threes

7/09/09

2009-07-09T20:13:00.000-07:00

In-between

In-between the silence
the shake of a maraca
heard across a hallway
the space between our apartment and theirs
your pause equalling the length of mine
the celebratory sound punctuating the moment
how to continue, this silence broken
the space between getting asymptotically closer
the inbetween never ending

--------------------

Life

black insects with red tint
i find them crawling, my desk
full of them
breed, class i have no
patience
these minute clues
into the lives of potential
tormentors
blood suckers, disease
spreaders, i take a heavy book
Gray's Anatomy
I smash.

---------------------

Something short about stars

reaching to grab the constellation
the black ink of the sky
i paint myself
child of the night i become
bright lights piercing the air
they glow from my skin
the sky reaches back for me
I melt in its darkness

7/08/09

2009-07-08T19:00:00.000-07:00

Twenty-two

twenty two steps
walking down the pier
hot wood splintering
hot feet like
sand burning through dry flesh
blood pumping through veins below
above
twenty two steps
jump cold water

-----------
Pinky

Finger
screws in the bones
tightened, cracking with
anticipation
air bubbles between
joints, they
move swinging around & pivotal
axis of calcified
molecules turned the color
red, well no, its more like the color
pink
-----------

About Today

Last of the gray day was yesterday
melting into a new groove
speaking a new sound
grasping at old straws
hands tied firmly to here an now

--------------

Poems 7/7/09

2009-07-07T16:23:00.000-07:00

Sublime

The toes curved over the edge of a sandle
the perfect arch of skin and bone
muscle wrapped, tendon tucked
skin on skin tanned/processed
the scent: musk and old foreign cheese
perhaps prized, but oh, sublime

---------------

Rain

The drops
like the tracks of the train
going over them
combing them through my hair
the slow gasps of an instant between
the sound and the sensation
inescabable they are silent

--------------

Strand

When it's winter and the beach is snow covered
ice-laced
I tiptoe in moccasins to feel the color
seeping like an infectious disease over the palms
of my feet.
The magnificent color of cloud covering compared with blue-black water.
A bruise next to the skin of the land.
Choke me like the reeds are choked by chill.