Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Untitled

I like the hawk as it soars in the sky but
it can't stay forever
some day it will die as it plummets to the ground

Just a raptor swooping in
it's lonely at the top sometimes but
I wouldn't know just a poet
chasing rhymes

I'm a nighthawk flying in the dark
but I know the way
flapping through the rain and snow
but I'm just a wanderer with a pen in hand
and that's all I know


Friday, December 7, 2012

Untitled

                 
                           
                                             Paint your own kind of lonely
                                             where you try to figure it out
                                             what you did or didn't do
                                             why you couldn't propel yourself  
                                             out of bed
                                             not enough caffeine
                                             so you shared a dinner with a friend
                                             fended it off but
                                             the bed got lonely
                                             it knows you only have one pillow
                                             like the c word it is never to be uttered
                                             

Farmer's Almanac

                                                     Farmer's Almanac
                                           
                                            The Farmer's Almanac says that it will
                                             be a...Stop right there
                                             What does my arthritic toe say?
                                              or my tea leaves?
                                              Enough of this crap







Thursday, October 11, 2012



Am told Milton read just about every book ever written up until his time
but some other writer took his best line and titled his book after it
I took Milton to avoid Shakespeare
how crazy is that?

But that didn't matter for a long long time although it might payoff soon
like a horse that stayed impossibly back the whole time
it's really about time isn't it?

as I will don the blue suit again
and sift through the land mines

Friday, May 11, 2012

Visions of Yesenia

Sometimes you lock yourself in a prison of denial looking
for the prosecutor who will put you on trial

And the raven haired woman who doesn't have it all together
but you're thinking somehow she'll make your life that much better
at least you don't have to talk about the weather

And over and over you think this can't be happening I need
a drink
but in your mind you can only sink into obsession

She pops in and out of your life like a drunken jaywalker
and you share a nice dinner careful not to slip like a tightrope walker
and stay detached enough not to give the air of a lunatic stalker

But it's always what you leave out that leads to the way you feel
 hoping the other person will  just be so real
what you're thinking and the way you need to deal

Why is this so complicated filled with booby traps and land mines
and why is it so hard to read the signs
as I think about it time after time
turn off the obsession like a radio
there must be another place to go but in your heart you know
it's rejection or reality

Pulling out the damsel in distress
can be one unavoidable hot mess
as only someone can guess
more or less

And these visions of Yesenia
keep on haunting me nonetheless



Saturday, March 3, 2012

untitled poem

I guess I never expected to write again.  Introne's got his nerve wearing his hair longer as he gets older.  A stunt and a cruel trick on anyone over fifty.  There are days where I just can't get up in the morning and curse myself later on for wasting the day.  Call it depression or what you will. The hell hounds of February are gone with nary a dent.
I remember the chance meeting at the defunct book store and your conversations with me. Commenting on my use of the Ebola virus.  Is this what passes for a poem in my fifties?

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Stranger On A Train

I just happened to be taking the late train to work yesterday, and I sat next to a man who had a hat that said "US Navy Veteran".  He looked like he could be from the Korean Conflict or possibly World War II.  He said he was in World War II.  I told him my father was in the Battle of the Bulge and D Day plus 1.  He replied, "there aren't too many left." He said he needed to sleep but the train was going too fast.  And he offered me his paper to read.  I sat there and read wondering about the war and the great sacrifice given by all who served.  One time, in a restaurant,  someone came up to my father and thanked him for serving.  There were other times when other veterans would stop and talk to my father about where he served etc.
My father talks about the war often.  And watches shows on TV about it.  Most veterans fall into two categories.  They either talk about it often or not at all.
I had a friend whose father fought in a battle in the Pacific during World War II.  My friend, who was a history major in college researched this battle.  Now from what I understand, his father never talked about the war at all.  All my friend said was, "you had a hard time digging in?"  He said that his father totally broke down crying.  So whenever I see a veteran, I'm more likely to think about what they went through.  Many children today know nothing about World War II or Korea or Vietnam for that matter.  And if they do, it's put in a negative light.
As I was leaving the train, I shook the man's hand and said, "thanks for serving."  He said, "stay healthy."
Maybe Tom Brokaw got it right when he called them  "The Greatest Generation."