POEM - The Smoke as Falls

From this height

The billowing smoke

From an enormous fire

Doesn't billow

Instead

The smoke

Looks like a waterfall of clouds

Splashing into the ground

Covering the landscape

In mist and spray

I am sure this is insensitive

An unseen

And unwanted observation

A thought too soon for now

But I am detached

Trapped on this floating tour bus

And beyond the multi-paned oval

The falls

Of smoke

Look nice

POEM - Eagles Don’t Always Soar

It didn’t seem like he’d ever get it done

Probably the same thing my parents thought

As months turned into years

And the stupid write up

Sat and sat and then

Finally

Completion

Youth is a lousy project manager

Never holds conference calls

Always behind on Gantt chart updates

Doesn’t do the math right

So the percentages are always off

Never does a sanity check

To verify outliers

In the reported data

But Six Sigma

Still isn’t a merit badge.

So really what can you say

When the poor Boy Scout

Trying to be organized

And remember what he did

And improve society

Isn’t  conforming  

To industry standards?

He was never trained

And his parents forget too

And only can think to pray

And beg, threaten, connive, and bargain

Until exhaustion or tears

Require rescheduling

Of additional follow-up meetings

To hash out the details

Create a cohesive plan

Strive for synergy

And finish the dang Eagle already!

POEM - Push

On cloud 9

Our wedding day

We thought we floated

On wings of angels

But we landed

It turns out

At the bottom

Of an eternal mountain

Pushing boulders

In case you wondered

The boulders multiply

They are called children

And work

And responsibility

And goals

And who cares what they are called

Today

I feel good

Pushed one boulder

Until it wore down

And disappeared

I can see another

Is nearly worn down too

And some of the children

Are starting to push their own boulders

Carry their own weight

Pile on goals

And chores

And work

And all of it

And there are lots of us

Pushing boulders up mountains

And it is hard work

And it is a nice thing

When someone with a few less boulders left

Nudges from behind

And I remember to remember

It will be my turn

One day soon

To nudge and struggle

And help another

Push

And Push

And on they roll

POEM - Reciprocity

I hadn’t planned

To frustrate you

Guessing

As I did

At each plan

Each design

That you

In a stroke of brilliance

Consigned

In quick scribbles

To the back of your list

It is

When lovers

For uncountable days

Have

In many cases

Put heads together

Solved the mysteries

Met the challenges

The way

And I ask

Out of sincerity

Not fear

Acceptance

Of this

My humble proffering

A sacrifice

Of scribbles

From my own hand

Now consigned

Nonchalantly

To ignominious

Anonymity

POEM - The Cause

My email screams to me

Begs and pleads for my essential support

Only I can stop the evil

My three dollar pledge

Will move mountains

Slay the Goliath with whom we battle

Trip up Citizens United

Make the political game fair

Meh . . .

Those guys have tons of money

I know. I just read the list.

The Forbes 400 richest

They are number five and six

My number on the list can’t be calculated

Negative net worth isn’t considered

Can’t even afford the magazine

Had to look it up on-line

But the emails keep coming

And my 3 dollars from 2 years ago

Bought me fifteen emails a day

Personal requests from previous Poet Laureates

Past and current presidents

Party leaders and assorted dignitaries

And concerned citizens alike

But, I mean, those other guys

Their totally loaded

And they still lost

I think I’ll keep my 3 dollars

And just give my 2 cents

POEM - The Saddle

My soft brain

Has been bucking and stamping

Against the side of my thick skull

Hoping for a way out

As I dull it daily

With spreadsheet detritus

Meager fare for thought fuel

Even the dullest men

Cherish intermittent absurdity

Privately perhaps

But the waffles of secrecy

Crave emergence

From fathomless leagues

Of thick maple-butter seas

And will pop

Metaphorically

From the inner toaster sanctum

Bite the hot bread of defiance!

Bite it!

Climb into the saddle

Ride that pale horse

Whose haunches sag with indifference

Only the pain will cure it

Only denying the buck

That tossed you

Unceremoniously earthward

Will burst the rusted mush of cerebral dormancy

And the best waffles never bend

Beneath the deluge

Of the syrupy onslaught

POEM - Cupcake Ritual

The ragged paper wrapper

Dejectedly resting in my hand

Once embraced

In a protective shield

A diminutive cake

Delicious and inviting

This wrapper

That I hold a little too long

Carried the contents

From batter to bake

Caressed and carried

In a meaningful shared experience

I hold this wrapper

Gently in my cupping grasp

Waiting for that moment

When other eyes are distracted

When I invert the wrapper

Inside out

Greedily and stealthily

Popping it in my mouth

I chew the wrapper

Squeezing the last sweet essence

The delectable remnants

Of a once present cupcake

That now is no longer

My eyelids have wandered shut

As I savor and indulge

But I can sense other eyes

I was not as careful as I thought

The wrapper sits motionless

Mid chew

As I flounder for an explanation

She speaks first

In a conspiratorial whisper

                “I’m glad to see

                                I’m not the only one”

She says with a smile

Revealing in her light clutch

An inverted wrapper of her own

Joyfully she joins

In the sweet ritual

POEM - Summer Dilemma

Lazily the conversation

Meanders around the point

As you search

For a reason to cook

Where is the potato salad

And the holiday leftovers

That won’t heat up the house

That might prolong the reclining moment?

If it was just us we’d wait

Let the humid moments pass

But these darn kids

Are not as patient

Complaining of a hunger

More based in boredom

Than actual starvation

The message you send is desperate

            “Why don’t we have any good food in this house?”

I know that good really means easy

            “Maria gave us a box of corn

                        We have lots of corn!”

“Well, cook some up - the kids love it

Maybe ruin it with butter and salt, like in the old days

Or worse, with margarine

Like we were raised in the 70s!”

You let me know they had corn for breakfast

Such silly little reprobates

            “I am eating boiled peanut” you relate

                        “I am ashamed” is your confession

I laugh in text

            “Hahaha, you are Southern now! Sorry!”

But it isn’t a joke

There is watermelon in the fridge

Fried chicken for dinner

A farm outside our door

And overalls in my closet

And you just told me Maria’s trailer is “nice”

And I wonder when it happened

But summer is too hot

For anything so deep

And I’m jealous of corn for breakfast

And I was hoping

            To snack on those boiled peanuts

Cool and moist

            Waiting in the refrigerator door

POEM - Hard-Boiled

Crack!

The porcelain shell forms fissures

Surface tension broken, distractedly

I roll the oblong orb around my desk

Midway through recalling

The conversation I had just had

With myself

Planning my culinary day

“The eggs will be saved for lunch,

                Cut up in chicken broth for soup.”

I forgot because I picked up the blanched stone

Cool and comfortable

Crack!

There is nothing like the satisfaction

Of a perfectly boiled egg

Tempered in the rolling water

Where the shell almost leaps away

At the slightest provocation

Leaving the soft cloud white ball

That embraces the golden treasure

Crack!

Forgive me

For my premature advances

You thought you had time

To relax in the refrigerator compartment

Before being ejected

Noisily

From your perfect womb

I just love your sound

Crack!

POEM - Roach Space

A hole has formed

In the hermetic seal

This modern office boasts

And the cockroaches have noticed

All the way up they climb

To the second floor

Just to make a point

And on three consecutive days

The hallway has been accented

By the lone kamikaze

The message in sacrificial form

Reminding all of the voracity

Each and every element

Of the collective infestation

Possesses

We are not born to conquer

There is no permanence in humanity

We are born as squatters

Our space on loan

A temporary condition

As the architecture crumbles

Weeds and vines engulf

Always lurking and scurrying

Just under the exterior

Are the walls filled to bursting

With roaches bent on domination

Imbued with the patient knowledge

They are indestructible and un-vanquish-able

Like Time

Or an Hydra

POEM - Borrowed Smile

Sitting here

Feeling the years

When

We'd sit here

Side by side

And talk the twilight away

When the winter

Never chilled

And we laughed

In easy ways

When we could just be

Now I sit

Alone

As the sun washes out

Into the darkness

And the laughs echo

Almost gone

But I keep a smile

Borrowed from  you

From the times

When a smile

Was all we owned

POEM - Chops [Jazz Writing 005]

The dance floor

Crowded

In the tiny town

Local high school

Showing off their jazz band

It was crowded like no one’s business

The closing song

A final farewell

To departing members

And that band was hopping

And that country kid

Plays that sax

Like he was born

Attached to it

In NYC

Where electric air

Filled his lungs

Brought through the window

Heavy and powerful

From the clubs of Harlem

Everyone gets sucked in

Bobbing their heads

Clapping along

Awash

In the joyous noise

POEM - Sold on the Sound [Jazz Writing 004]

Bought that last line

Completely

I’m all in

For at least a few more

Cause it all just melts

In rhythms of the night

Ice and fire

Right on the beat

The licks come fast and light

Syncopated

A dance that takes

And we're gone, man!

Just gone!

POEM - Dangerous Notes [Jazz Writing 003]

Caught

Tight and close

This is what we feared

All along

The danger

Lurking in the long alley of the night

And we run

Just to stay alive

The journey catches us

A claw and a snarl

A flash of pearly whites

All within a smile and a nod

Beneath your tipping hat

A man that can't be beat

A sound that binds your soul

POEM - Attraction [Jazz Writing 002]

We passed the time

Alone and still beside you

And we left it all

Out in the night

When we kiss

The rain stops and sighs

The night fills with stars

And the atoms in our minds

Stop spinning around

As the whole wide world

Takes a moment to pause

And I am contained

In your eyes

Tell me love is fate

Or destiny or some undiscovered force

That draws us colliding

Across every distance

We can't part

We can't leave it be

And we sway and swoon

Lost in this love

POEM - A Wish for a Dance [Jazz Writing 001]

Done up

Cool down

Hot and smooth

And I wish I had the time

To swing and sway the night

All along

With you

POEM - Looking Out

A silly thing

A window is all

And solitude

Drifts

Out across the branches

Of the springtime trees

Putting on their chlorophyll robes

Ready to receive

Every toxic exhale

My waste their treat

And visa-versa

And all the world was a cube

But the glass opening

Shows circles that spin

In cycles of give and take

Breath into air

Thoughts allowed to wander

And that bad mood

That was boxed in

Can be cast off

Given to the trees

Caught by the wind

Dispersed in sunlight

POEM - Talking at Walls

That analogy

The one just out of the gate

I just need to insert this other one

Right before that other one

So you understand

Vividly

Precisely

In microscopic detail

All the subtle intricacies

Which brilliantly illustrate why

I completely understand the situation

Oh, and I just thought of another

Even better

Quintessential experience

That will really get deep down

Into those crinkly crevices

Of that mind of yours

That keeps figuring out

The dumb choice

                And picking it

                                Without fail

And maybe one more exhausting allegory

Will bore those foolish tendencies

Out of existence

Which is why

Despite the rolling eyes

I continue to continue

POEM - Getting the Right Fit

Could you bring me

My other life?

I think I got the wrong one

From the back of the pile

Under some forgotten rag

In the dimness

Of the early morning

It looked like the right one

But it just doesn’t seem to fit right

No hurry really

If you happen to be

Coming my way

Just drop it in the lobby

Leave it with the attendant

I’ll swing by at lunch

Leave the mis-fitting  one behind

The cleaning crew

Can just toss it out

With the other broken pieces

POEM - Mic Drop

Thank you for the applause

You really are too kind

It has really been a group effort

As you’ve allowed me

For the last 365 days

To borrow and steal

Some of our best moments

And saddest times

Your exploitation

And generosity

All in the name of art

Please feel happy

If you made it in

Don’t be offended

If you haven’t yet

As I’ve said before

And I will mention again

I am not hanging up my typing gloves

I am just giving my fist a rest

Having held this microphone

Tightly and passionately

Through the whole performance

Today I hold my arm out straight

Stare you straight in the eyes

Relax my grip

And turn away

Already in full stride

To the next idea

Before the cacophony erupts