Poetry

I make no claims that these are any good. But, here they are. If you want to comment on poems, click on their respective titles.

2015

It is 9/12/11

nine twelve eleven
nine one-two one-one
as if my fingers
swollen and sweaty
slipped while dialing
and starting over never crossed my mind.

No one will come
until I hang up
and think more carefully
to push
finger pads to keypad
with motions that should be automatic.

2011

(Unentitled)

I found your letter the other day
My eyes a-round at the words it said
Did your heart pound as you wrote “Dear May”
As mine wound before it dead?

Your sure and steady manuscript
And pen full of ink equipped
Flowed into words of none clipped
While my soul into two, ripped.

Tears plunged onto the folded page
My mind lunged back to a fonder age
Our lives have ranged, as we bask in sage
The wage you won. Are we done?

Are we?

silver rind hangs from a sparkle
suspended in dark blue gloaming
that bleeds onto imposing indigo shadows
casting upon glowing pinkish silence
that will progress to a crunchy white
and reflect clarity
amidst brown bright noise
drowning frosted sighs
that wait
and dissipate
to answer to
the pallid pendulum
of that eternal
chromatic clock

2010

At 2:48 AM

at 2:48 am
this dark valley hears
fingers tapping upon
this keyboard and
my breathing

then John Donne’s wispy
pages turn
slitting the air
dripping
metaphysical blood

I inhale deeply
this ether
unsedated
cutting neatly
another psychic gill

Slumber

I didn’t want to disturb you
You looked so peaceful
Full of dreams and eyes half-smiling
Smiling as if nothing mattered
Matters dissolved and cares without
Without staring I watched you nod
Nod at someone no one could see
Seeing is knowing
Knowing without seeing
You wake,
Because Sunday School is over.

Universal Gravitation?

sandpaper cheek
soft hands
searching eyes
furrowed brow
gentle smile
clenched jaw
balance
tilting
opposite
like
parts fit
perfectly

You Can’t

trust me
depend on me
count on me
to finish
this

Starting Somewhere

puffs of breath
wobbling
heel to toe
along this fissure
this flaw
this crack
whose origin
hairlines
the middle of my

soul

trace it
chase it
as it runs
grows and widens
from tightrope
to abyss
straddling
avoiding the fall
to a familiar freeze

Conditional

If I can’t reminisce
What’s the point of making memories?

If you can’t acknowledge them
They weren’t real for you

Making it easier
To let it all go

If it was not as worthwhile to you
Why couldn’t I understand

Why did I let you in long enough
To let you show yourself out

Because it always means more
If it hurts more

On The Crest

Today is a big anniversary
Instead of planning a cute nursery
I look at my life
In shadowy strife

Today marks a fair number of years
Since the day I could have spared myself tears
And look what I’ve done
And not what I’ve won

Today tries to shun most fleeting pleasures
And reconsiders inherent treasures
Be gone now, regret
I have paid my debt

Today passes seasons in such bold hurry
Minutiae flecks my weary eyes blurry
The end of each June
Comes often too soon

Today I break through adversary.

My Really Thick Skull

She tells me
over and
over and
over again

but she called
to tell me.

She called.

She tells me
I’m a caring friend
I’m fun to talk to
I’m a good guy.

What does it mean?

She tells me she’s
drawing the friend line
pretty hard.

She tells me
we can’t classify
“hanging out” as dates but
I make her agree to hang out.

She tells me
it’s not me.

She tells me
she has waning interest
she has lack of interest
she’s not interested

but she called
to tell me.

She called.

Une Poème, Première Version

vous m’avez poignardé
avec votre couteau implacable
vous m’avez regardé
mes yeux serrés ferment

la répétition, le rythme
avec votre couteau implacable
envoyé mon âme loin
où l’obscurité prévaux

aucunes coupures, aucuns cris
de votre couteau implacable
parce que le soleil es hors
et tous va bien

Crew

In the galley, my shackles clink as I rouse. They say the rest of the fleet is gone, destroyed. The bow slowly slices the horizon, and our synchronized oars obey the coxswain’s rhythmic commands: stroke, stroke.

The vessel lunges forward, forward. Our bodies move in unison, backward, counter to our progress.

The air smells of rot. Death has gone sour.

Our lungs huff and hum, and arms pull and legs push. The skin we shed is the grime that cakes in the creases of our throats and the crooks of our elbows. We never molt completely. Never down here.

The chains drag and swing, thud and clack. It becomes a dance, and I hear it in my sleep. It makes me sleepy.

Light peeks through a porthole. A point. It perks my pupils.

Your eyes used to be empty, too.

Eventually shadows fade, booming subsides, and we hear cheers on deck.

We keep rowing, rowing.

Genesis 25:34

The sun begins to slide slowly down Earth’s airy pane
And I smell of sweat and soil

You propose a deal
We make a trade

What I have means nothing to me
Despite its supposed worth

But you want it
And you have pottage

And I am hungry

Lapse

I have learned

to stop waiting.

Sometimes

giving up

is an effective

way of

moving on.

Hap(1)py(2) Birth(3)day(4), You(5)

Alicia’s Awesomeness
Sincerity is genuine with her.

Quarter
Five squared is a quarter
25 times the calendar turns
One fourth behind her now
Three quarters ahead of her
Enough for a pay phone

France
Elle aime la France, tout Paris.

Ukulele
Strumming and singing by firelight helps my bones fight the chill the feeble fire cannot grow to extinguish.

Red hair
I wish I had it.

Dance moves
She has one.
Demand it.

Service
She gives. No questions asked.

Friendship
Twenty-five syllables cannot adequately capture what this one woman manifests in friendship.

Alicia’s Sign
Nothing fishy on this pisces

Music taste
A large percentage
of my own music
comes from free downloads
she passes along
and it’s amazing.

Greg/Ingrid
She says she doesn’t stalk them.

Frosting
Creamy confection on brownies? What?!

Writing
Words float from the page
Drifting into my lone eyes
Painting what I can’t deny
What I can only see
As purity dancing without shame

Sleep
She likes it. A lot.

Smile

Generosity
Heart Sized Large Holds Plenty

Loyalty
She picks you. Done deal.

Determination

Hard work
If she has a cause
She will work for it
She will meet her goals
She will not back down
Precisely focused

Competitiveness
Guitar Hero humbles us. Sometimes.

Summertime
and the livin’ is easy…

Imagination
The girl doesn’t dream small.

Stubbornness
She stands her ground. Oy.

Schemer
She won’t even flinch when it comes to deceiving and stealing to surprise her friends and to make them smile.

Loves her family.

Sucky Sonnet Sunday

I sit in a chair where my desk is strong
My mind turns its gears all the day long
This isn’t as smart as it seems to be
My mind needs focus, tied to this oak tree

I slump at this desk that keeps me stable
My heart is willing, but weak and unable
This isn’t as smart or elementary
Untether my heart, it longs to be free

I sit, I cry, I laugh, I stand, I breathe
One day I rejoice, and the next day I seethe
I want to be grounded to certainty
I need to fly high with nothing to see

The mind will always struggle with the heart
I’d cease to exist if they tore apart.

Mid-day Campus Free Verse

waking up
something’s up

slipping on my jacket
i can already tell

down the hill
on the bus

i hate speaking in front of class when i don’t know ahead of time

dodging bodies at 12:50
you cross my mind

you don’t say much
so i have to wonder

that’s all i can do
before french audio exercises flood my ears

catch you later

2009

Headache

not enough sleep
too much food
lots of laughter
not sufficient time

teasing
talking
television
treats

presents
presence
pie
prayer

mother
brother
other
celebration

if these are the cause
the aspirin can wait

Weekend Winter Spacial Fold

lightning lashes
clouds clash
sheets splash
drops dash
hems … dampen

woolpacks whisper
whiteness wisps
flakes flip
souls skip
boots … crunch

I was somewhere
not the other
not in between
much better than nowhere
at all

December, Here

Front brings rain
Front brings chill

Winter stops
Winter looms
Winter drifts

leaves everything else
behind.

Heart

Starting adrift
Spiraling down
a tunnel
of thick darkness
Desperate
Blind
suffocating
Pain leads to
sadness
leads to numbness

Pulling deeper still
then
toward a core?
Led within a path
more strongly
toward a flicker
toward a point
a center
of light.
Where I came from.

Agalychnis calidryas

You have those
legs and arms
that do that
Fingers that stick
Skin that stretches

Big eyes, markings
Vibrant colors
strobe blue
and red
attracting many

Always watching
sometimes distant
Sly smile
When you croak
it means something

Afterburners

Heaven looks hazy
It’s hard to see
I smile toward Orion
It’s his time to shine

November
Late
Awake
Wondering

I crane my neck
Hoping
Wishing
Before wishes appear
That they do.

The sky skimps of stars at first
Either stationary or shooting
But I know more exist
Even ones I haven’t seen

I lie in the parking lot
Cars block the street lamps
Suddenly at 2am
The show begins

A cluster dances
A far frenzy
A small swarm
Chasing each other

More appear
Mere blinks arcing
But I don’t have to squint
Just wish.

I see five.
My eyes have adjusted.

Quickly

I dial
And we’ve already
Talked an hour.

I write
And my life
Has suddenly passed.

Southern Cloak

As old as trees from which they grow
Ashy green hangs, drapes as dross
Curious if you didn’t know
About drooping Spanish Moss

A parasitic toga
Trees face the ultimate loss
And enigmatic, so
Gauntly, still haunting Spanish Moss

To touch is not that lethal
To let through one’s fingers floss
Cause a rash this mute wreath will
Quite deceptive, Spanish Moss

Respect we have no shared space
Shoulder brush, flippant hair toss
Turn my back, my steps apace
Until next time, Spanish Moss

Sitting

couches everywhere
demand
at least three of us

talking
laughing
being

ourselves
with each other
as best friends

so, now, today
they couldn’t stay
empty spaces weigh

couches everywhere
mourn
the others’ absence

now it’s me
of the three
it’s only me

Reach

It just keeps climbing
piercing the sky
hoping heaven bursts
and quenches
upon hot steel beams
and steaming cement

Ascending 4000 feet
Then
the mountains
extend my reach
to the dark velvet expanse
and its scattered,
infinite diamonds.

On the Williamsburg Bridge

The clouds were outside
I was inside
a cage

The sun cut through the clouds
a glowing sword
trembling bars

Casting grill mark shadows
on my skin

On the outside
the clouds parted

I was never safe
inside this cage

The sun sliced through
sizzled my retinas
cauterizing its fate

I never thought
the last thing I’d see
was your return to prison.

How It Feels Right Now

Fist full of sand
Grip fast
Airtight

Moon pulls in the tide
Strong, magnetic
Deep

Clenching still
Current swirling
Head above water

Punching waves
Sea recedes
Finally

Back on solid ground
Feet firm, elsewhere
Hand open

Empty.

Nine. Eleven. Nine.

If it is
possible
to sigh
and hold
my
breath
at
the same time
I do.

Today
I wasn’t there
eight years ago
but the air
is heavy
as families
read names
but the names
float
more lightly than
our mortal souls.

It was sunny,
then
clear, catastrophic
sudden, solemn
I choke back sobs
today
tears fall
and it feels
like rain.

Alphabet, Take 2

All
beauty
chafes.
Delight
envies
fear.
Glory
hates,
infinitely.
Joy
keels.
Love
mocks
new
opportunities.
Peace
quits.
Reason
splits
thinking.
Unified
voices
want
xenocide,
Your
zeal.

Alphabet, Take 1

Always begging
Constantly digging
ever
for grace
Heaving infinite joys
Keeping level
mastering nuance
offering penance.
Quickly running
scared
Twists untangle
voluntarily.
Whittling xoanon,
yesterday’s
Zest.

Let Me Ask

How it happens to happen
How we share
How my soul is not mine

What do I do
What transforms between us
What you give me

Why miss, amiss
Why sleep
Why not cry

Unexpected Haikus

Quiet tears streamed down
Surprised you as much as me
I smiled, changed subjects

***

So I have these plans
Elements coordinate
Make things official

***

Choosing what I want
Feeling evermore confident
Nothing is like it

July

Exhale
Bubbles float to the surface
Eyelids drag when I blink
The crowd holds its breath?

It’s a common trick
If that
The clock ticks
Diaphragm flat

I want to breathe
But I choke
And the chains
I am a bubble, too

The clock is on my side
The clock is the key
The clock is steady
And I wait

I rise, I buoy slowly
My hair, tentacles
Like a Man o’ War’s
Inadvertently stings me

My heart fights
My pulse races
My lungs burn
The clock, steady

I surge past
Where the water
Meets the sky
And I gasp for August.

at 1:10AM

there is darkness
and I am spinning
spiraling
like propellers
with no tail
fluttering
sputtering
plummeting
wondering
hoping for
an inelastic collision
to save me

or if I’ll bounce back

Out of the Dark

The explosives
Are nowhere
Near as powerful
As nuclear fission

They wouldn’t be
Worth noticing
Eight million miles away

They sure are pretty
How they light up the sky
And our faces

It’s different
Simulating
Sunstreaks
At night

Photosynthesis

Sunshine crawls through the boughs
Shadows fall
Beams strike leaves
Chlorophyll activates
ATP to ADP and all that
And then we have glucose
For food.
Nourishment.
Nursing.
Rockabye, baby

I cannot relax my shoulders

my knees ache
my hips
my head

it swells
shudders
i writhe

it seizes my body
furrows my brows
sloughs away

i’m not giving birth
not even close
but the strongest reminder

that with every month
passes another chance
to do so.

Down Time

I really like the legroom on these flights
The movies, the service
The smoking I could live without, but you know,
International.
Departure wasn’t too bad
It’s always a wonder how
These massive metal monsters
Leave the ground and cross oceans
And we’re in the air for hours, on a flight
International.
The weather is a bit unpredictable, precarious
Portending
The pilot announces something
Mais je n’écoute pas,
And I continue reading
I brought a lot of reading
There’s a lot of time to pass on this plane
International.
The plane hits a bump
I look out the window
And the sky moves
Swirls, shudders, angry
The plane dips, swoops
And finds level
My stomach sinks
And doesn’t return to elevation
The plane tips
Engines cut
The lights blink then fail
I can’t breathe
Windows blow
My book flies away
Panic
Screams
Cries
Prayers
All of us
Le pilote, aussi.
He’s flown this route before,
Air France Flight 447
Rio to Paris
International.
The plane crumbles
Disintegrates
We disappear.
The Atlantic Ocean is huge
They won’t find me
But I wait for them to find
That black box,
boîte noire
So I can understand
So my family can understand
And my friends
Who are anxious
It’s taking a long time
But I am patient
The search has expanded and extended
Into an effort, massive, mighty, sweeping.
International.

Something Else

The space gets less blank as I type, but it’s like the words are blank, too.
I could sit and speculate instead of focusing my anxiety.
I could wait for it to dissipate.
It’s nothing; these words are nothing.
You’re staring at empty whiteness, trying to discern, extract, fabricate meaning
Like it’s modern art.

A secret code, but there’s nothing secret about it. Just a void.
But I see something, and not because I make it appear.
It’s there. Words sinking into an abyss, chasing gravity.
Do I follow? Do I wait?
Will I end up wishing you would come back when you’ve been right beside me all along?

I went for a run

and I saw a tree
that a wire fence surrounded
and the tree had leaves
but the tree was droopy
fresh, green leaves
vibrant little nerve endings
slouching branches
sulking, sad tree
cheery on the outside
dejected on the inside
enclosed
isolated
wilting away.
I ran away from the tree
and toward it at the same time.

On the Train Last Night

Midnight illusion
I walk
Won’t sleep
Sallow eyes
Excited heart
Halting thoughts
Hurried trots
True elation
Earned smiles
Seems worthwhile
We imply
Infinite moments

Philosophy in 50 Words

She began. She was born.

Five pounds, four ounces. All of it, life.

She grew. Taller, longer. Smarter.

She kept learning.

She saw things.

She made friends.

She understood love.

Fear.

Loss.

She kept going.

Until she thought she had to stop.

But there was no end.

She began again.

Haiku Sleep Anxiety, Naturalization Version

She watches the clock
She wants to be sleepy now
But she’s excited

She cannot focus
Her words are a scattered mess
Like toddlers and toys

She’s almost thirty-three
She could have done it sooner
Now is just as well

The years pass quickly
Blurring life with life’s events
And yet minutes drag

Visualizing
Her motherland. It’s not quite
Her homeland. It’s here.

She’s here, awake, still.
Living the dream, so alive.
American dream.

IMG_5953

fecundity
desolation
on top of things
crushed beneath
sincerity
hypocrisy
levity
guilt
brightness
grey
gangly
girthy
forgiveness again
explosion of apologies
reservoir of that’s okays
waiting for spring
green
newness
scratches and all
hopefully

Pining, Two: I Hate My Imagination

In my mind’s eye
Waking
Winning
Surrendering
Standing off
Gazing
Gravitating
Closing in
Colliding
Shocking
Locking arms
Warming
Smiling
Melting
Losing my breath
Pulling away
Staring at your mouth after
Having kissed you
A moment’s eternity
Clear as day
Without the evidence
Of reality

Pining, One: Online, Off the Radar

Online
not busy
not idle
green light
go
click on your name
chatty chat chat
cleverisms
banter
chuckling to myself
kicking myself inside

No will power
I see you
I want to talk to you
I walk over
just to put my hand on your shoulder
and look at you
and smile
and playfully insult you
while I walk away
with a smirk on my face

You won’t back down
we’ll pick on each other
in between talking to other people
I’m more than aware
it’s getting late
and you’re aware
that I’m aware

Nothing will happen
nothing will ever happen
I don’t wait around
but I did spend my time
for nothing
I can’t say no
I can’t back away

Nothing greets me
Nothing smiles
Nothing flirts
Nothing stares
Nothing seizes my daydreams
I gaze at nothing
I wonder at nothing
I laugh at nothing
I embrace nothing
I fall for nothing

and that might be
what I have
but I don’t
because nothing
is not worth my time.

No light
not idle
not doing it again.
Stop.
Invisible.

Seriously

commute home
furrowed brow all the way
so tired
so frustrated
so
cranky
so
uncertain
so
not wanting to deal
so

bloated

mourning
too strong
grieving fits
but not perfectly
moping
makes me the victim
in a bratty way

why must I wait

will it come to me

will I go away

fed up

will I come back

hopeful again

ready to face

I don’t know

whatever

that is

anything

but

now

Pining, Prologue

Your hair.
Shines.
Your eyes.
Pierce.
Your smile.
Melts.
Your hands.
Spark.

But I, I am invisible.
Or you are a complete idiot.

2008

I didn’t send cards.

Wherever you are, I hope
you feel how much you are loved,
as the place each of you has
in my heart
feels extra hollow and empty,
to let me know,
as if I need the reminder,
how much I miss you.

I love you all.

Merry Christmas.

Biding Biting

These three chairs
Seat three men
Who judge three judgments
Upon three criminals
With three sincere apologies
And three pleas
For three new chances
At three fresh lives
Not destined for three failures
But three redemptions
Granted by three men
Standing on three pairs of feet
Leaving the three chairs
Yelling three cheers for
Three transformations.

America, You’re Getting It Done

The quiet intensity in the air?
The electricity? The excitement?
That’s you.
That’s the polling machines.
That’s the shuffling in long lines on the sidewalks.
Doing what you have to do.
You’ve woken up.
Taken charge.
That’s your resolve.
That’s your fervor.
Your power.
This morning.
The energy, now.
It’s all you.

Waiter at Gennaro’s, I’ll be pining for you forever.

The way you apologized for the wait
and recited the specials

I felt bad when you looked mostly at me
and not my friends

Only sort of bad

because, I did know what I was doing
when I asked about the menu

Pasta with meat sauce?
Risotto with seafood?

You made me laugh and
talked me into the risotto.

That “really interested” expression
about the menu was more than

just about the menu

Are you on the menu?

Keep talking
Keep looking at me

I’ll keep smiling
and trying not to blush

Blue eyes and
Dark brown, slightly wavy hair
medium length

Not perfectly combed
And yet

it is.

I can’t get enough

I really was interested
in you

but too shy
to say

You brought over the check
And we smiled at each other

and my friends laughed
And I slipped in a few more dollars

for your tip.

As my friends and I headed toward the door
to exit

I turned and saw you standing by the bar
and you looked at me

I waved
you waved

I walked out the door
heaved a forlorn sigh

and that was it.

West 4th

Four E’s pass
While I wait for my A
during morning rush hour then
A C stops so
I crane my neck, look northward
into the tunnel
longing for my A
but none comes and
sweat forms on my arms
and forehead but
I let the C pass and
four more E’s pass through
with still no A
so I jump on the next C
only to have the A pass me
while stopped at Spring Street.

I hate that.

Solitary Window Wildflower

Bloom

Bursting

Lonely

Orange

Struggling

Three months

Climbing

Through a stem and

Pop!

Here I am.

Birthday Meditation: I’m Glad Your Mom Makes Awesome Fudge

Sometimes her curly hair makes me so jealous.
And her clear, big blue eyes are infuriating.
And her intelligence of the computers and
business adminstration mocks my brain.
And her spirituality oozes out of a heart that already overflows
with compassion and generosity.

Deplorable.

I’ve known her nearly four years, which is a healthy glimpse of eternity.
I’m grateful for her friendship, which I’m grateful to know I have forever.
So, I’m not bummed I missed the first twenty-five years of her life.
We’ll have neighboring mansions in heaven. And Wiis.
Always, I’ll be glad she was born
and our paths have crossed
even if all those things about her
make me mad.

Happy Birthday, Becky.