That burn
That yearns
And feels so real
As it scrapes
The back sides
Of my eyelids,
Reminding me
There is lots
Left to do.
Category: nerd
Full (day 1669)
I waited up to see my full moon
Shining through my full glass
Satiating my full desire
Hidden deep within my full belly
And kept warm in my full house
Decked full of surprises
For a full celebration
About this full Christmas tree
We’ve emptied of life.
Trying to Pack Lightly (day 1662)
One backpack less
One safety net
Ukulele? Yes.
An Ode to Sebastião Salgado (day 1651)
Your truth shall not lay untold,
A liberty demanded by your lens.
Spread far, to a billion souls!
And left them telling more.
This sacrifice you’ve made,
These injustices you’ve witnessed,
Have scarred you deeper then we know
And left you far from home.
Yet you have challenged yourself to be
A man to change the world!
A man who walked, sympathetic in thought,
To capture truth, indefinitely.
I know I’ve seen but little of what
It’s taken to make the view,
A tree or two, a holocaust,
Amazonians who eat the sloth.
I recognize the commitment required
To flap the shutter again,
I know desire that trumps all hells
To keep thy foot aloof.
For without your alert eye
Trained towards this land we all call home,
Surely we’d all have remained
Ignorant till the day we die.
So be thy grace as you continue,
Be the majesty we step into each day,
A glory we call on friendly terms:
Home, our land, our people, our soul.
Counting (day 1650)
From my angle I wasn’t the nerd,
I had the best cold coffee
Settling in the bottom of my to-stay mug,
Rattling around the inside
Of my drastically hungry belly.
I had too many ideas to be passive
And in discourse with unfriendly patrons.
Why are you smiling at me, saying hello?
I’m on the other side of the room.
Can’t you see my furrow, blinded by dull lights?
Perhaps I’m the unfriendly one.
From my angle, I was the mission.
I had written the outline and
Focus was my middle name.
The timer was ticking and
I wasn’t wasting motivation
On Whiskey River in the Jar’O.
I had water to accompany the drip.
Keep the lights low and let
This chaotic music recklessly skip
Into oblivion my cycling mind
Which cannot refuse to be free.
From my angle I had a perfect view
Of both the flighty pixie,
Distracted with a proper stein,
And the siren gently calling my name.
I knew her, of course,
One of the few to break this furrow
And cause me to tarry by name.
Thus, I aggressively gather my activist heart
And settle my score with a battling pickaxe
And two shiny 2013 quarters
That rattle over the buzz and out the door.
Bishop (day 1649)
The holy roads of checkmate
Lay my English sober
Leaving lions at the gate
Screaming at misshapen strangers
Spitting on this cigarette ridden sidewalk
With stutters and sideways mysteries
That, to my careful eyes
Jogging left and to the right,
I feel empathetically complacent
And take my bishop onward: strong.
Ceiling Lines (day 1627)
Lines upon my ceiling cause me great grief.
They are not parallel.
Their asymmetrical zig-zagging
Cover up cracks that look like
Two dimensional waves along a
Broken shoreline
Which leaves me guessing the next time
One of those waves will come
Crashing into my bedroom
As I stare up wondering the cause.
Some of the lines have even
Made their way down the wall,
Like an infection yet to be quelled,
Striking through the crown molding
And into the mauve like a sealion
At a pebbly beach in autumn.
So I close my eyes and focus on breath.
Napkins (day 1622)
Ladders have begun
To disseminate my mental state,
Unpacked and re-packed
Long term storage boxes,
Dusty cardboard napkins.
Zigzagged metropolitan markets
With wicker baskets lined
With checkerboard napkins
And leftover spices
Under soiled paper napkins.
This night train is lonely
When the lights flicker just so,
I spend spare moments of memory
Re-reading the same four lines
Written on a folded square napkin.
Rainy Day (day 1621)
Measuring droplets
Unfolding and shaking
Skipping puddles
Waiting Up (day 1613)
I waited up until my eyes creaked
And two blind mice
Came looking for cheese.