Nov 29, 2011

A Note: Feet to the Fire

Sometimes we need an external push to get our shit together, to pursue that dream, to complete that project.  The push can come from people, unexpected circumstances, and it may be a situation that first appears to be a negative force.  But if you listen closely to life, to that voice in your heart, you'll see the opportunity.  Without going into detail I had a few knocks that caught my attention.  I'm listening to the voice and telling my circle my intentions.  The voice tells me what direction I need to go and my people keep me honest.  So here I am again, standing on the corner with the die in my hand.  I rub them together then let them fly.  Yes, I'm a gambler and that's the only way to live.

Side Note:  I created this blog to keep me active in writing poetry.  As the blog grew I posted my art (photos and crayons).  Now, I'm separating the art from the poetry.  I believe it will give me more incentive to create and post art.  I'll continue to post poems, but going forward new art can be found at  Heads up:  the art blog is empty.  Now that I've told you of it's existence I'm under the gun to post the newness.  I'm all about finding ways to trick myself into being productive.  :)

Nov 28, 2011


in conversation
the past is revealed
a version of myself comes to light
voices give insight
excuses are null-in-void
truth is truth
and as i converse with the past
all i can do is acknowledge myself
parts of uncertainty
i ask forgiveness
face the young me.
this process will repeat
years from now
the goal is to minimize friction
keep it pushing
as conversations
from past to present
are reflected through friends
past and present.

Nov 23, 2011

Nov 20, 2011

artificial life

the day night begins the same
patterns are followed with slight variation.
means of survival
is buried under
fantasies and imaginary constructs
a world that doesn't make sense
i alien search for foreign travelers.
we cross paths bounce link scatter
form a bond understanding
wonder if the sickness can be reversed.
with weighted shoulders
we do what we can
with the belief of the ripple effect.

Nov 18, 2011


i fly away from the sunset
snow birds wait for my arrival
a reflection of a reflection stares.
a key looks at plastic
it wonders what grooves it will make
half wishing it was a spray paint.
it's marks blend with others
which are quickly ignored by passengers
and that defeats the purpose of its existence
but color stands bold
cross plastic metal borders
only confined to the strength of index.
the moon looks down to the earth
it wonders why my eyes come from the east
memory jogs the mind
it makes sense now
the moon takes it a step further
and reminds me it can be located from any part of the world
i agree and take its advise in consideration.
the house burns to the ground
normally I would rebuild
but today
everything is on the table.
i take a long walk to clear the skies.

Nov 16, 2011

dodging bullets

i'm not a saint
i use my smile to disarm
humor to crack vaults
patience to wear down the hardened.
the path behind me is riddled with stories
fun tragic all life
lessons are pinned to the bulletin.
skirmishes battles full blown war
my scars disclose the details
my faith points to the next one
where i suit up
enter the field with an exposed heart
ready to fight throw down get dirty
and while i'm dodging bullets
putting in the good fight
i'm waiting
waiting for that chick with the perfect aim
to line me up in the cross
and put me down for good.

Nov 14, 2011

the good sale

the office is dingy
spiders create traps
bugs stick to silk
a death dance ensues
paint peels
plastic slips from metal veins
two people sit on milk crates
the tongue of gold
paints pictures of grandeur
the listener drifts into the whirlpool
happily forgetting reality.

Nov 13, 2011

noise selection

for me
there is no such thing as quiet.
i switch channels all day
replace one with another
in order to fit the mood.
uninterrupted signals
bounce the walls of my brain.
i drown it with selected distractions
as time spins
i master the high pitch
cancel ignore it
let calm suffocate
cells firing on cylinders.
the day opens
i roll the window
intake life and it's disturbances.
at times
music soothes then infuriates.
outside thought
presses to be heard
the world shouts
screams kicks
i press mute
but the internal static
cannot be stopped.
it must be led down the road
and slowly put to sleep.

Nov 10, 2011

age old

where is your voice?
is it
trapped under the weight of thought?
does it call your name
tap your shoulder
only to be ignored
pushed to the side of the road?
despite the suppression
it sings
even if you dismiss
the enchanting song.
what does it tell you?
does it point to your path
only for you to turn around
walk in the opposite direction?
do you close your eyes
blind yourself from your vision
your future?
at the end of life
a question will present itself.
ask if you ignored the beating drum
or did you listen to it
take its hand
skip down the road
that led to fulfillment?

Nov 6, 2011

she's quality

i pour over the contents
inspect the parts
test re-test scenarios.
this process shortens
as life lengthens.
my council
sits at the table
drinks wine breaks bread
debate engage
all known aspects.
from second one
i knew where i stood
but protocol demands discussion.
i listen for unheard truth
evidence of the deal breaker.
heads of personality
whisper in my ear
partake in the artistry
moving my thought to theirs
despite my known stubbornness
i move forward
toss deduction out the window.
i take her hand in mine
to see what the day brings.
i experiment gamble my life away
the win lose column constantly dance
but that's the way it has to be.

Nov 4, 2011


one wakes
to a blue sky
white gray clouds
black specs flying through the air
an orange orb fading east to west
a cold rock reflects light
noise of children playing
an ignored song
beats of the heart
between life and love
moments pass
creating a path
unforeseen by anyone.

Nov 2, 2011

around the corner

eight stories
i slip in and around
the entrance
watches my movements.
i alternate patterns
avoid high traffic areas
stack excuses in my favor.
around corners
i hear voices
snippets of conversations
i fill the gaps
scenarios play out
images are reconstructed
these games fill time
as cloak and dagger
take over my mental state
avoid eyes
when i stranger
view a glimpse of a neighbor.