Wednesday, August 20, 2014

wobbling to the halfway mark

good gamblers never bet
the cost of their freedom
no matter what
good winners
see the lights
the fireworks, the ocean
reflected in their eyes
and remain still
calm and unsurprised
good losers
cry a billion tears
before they get up to try
good lovers
invent a pupa every day
with their soul inside
good soldiers
only aim and spin
the best they can
never let their goal
good humans
do what they can
and forgive themselves
life is nothing
a trial version
expires, no matter what

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

djembe on the carpet

lies in the wobble zone
between silence and energy
relies on the temp human
to tilt for sound
clumsy but hopeful
of memories in song
spoken in the language of hands
distinct from the worry of minds
of dances in staccato
untangled from hearbeat
of a tune louder than the nerve
in the temple, closer each day
to the final beat
of music earth and sky
threading an unknown inventory
of careless discarded breaths
careful saved breaths
with faith in the age of feet
and fireworks

All you can give us is what life is about from your point of view. You are not going to be able to give us the plans to the submarine. Life is not a submarine. There are no plans
                                                                                                              Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird

Tuesday, August 05, 2014

high tide

the barrier was made of sand
piled up on the tallest dune
in a furor of activity
ants queued up in the desert heat
as sand slipped and time seeped
the hourglass flipped, the world changed
the barrier switched, the desert set
and water rose
sometime when the moon is pink
there will be no shore left
and the ants afloat will think
the barrier was made of water
and history will switch mediums

Monday, July 28, 2014

builder cmon!

the decor need not inspire poetry
but for heavens sake
its not a castle in the sky
lay a foundation, dance the dance
on the cornerstone
lay it on thick, thats the better
of many evils
unlike a rickety rock that sinks
or is thrown, to bring down the whole world
every block matters, every note inspires
or sinks, your choice

he who measures the worth of his life by counting his gold, is he who measures the worth of a house by counting the grains of sawdust made while building it.
                                         - Hammerite Quote
yes im quoting from a videogame, yes im a nerd

Sunday, July 27, 2014

dances with babies

watching the tiny tornado
tear through the mall
at frightening speeds
and pause, when he hears
his song playing
in the middle of the elevator
and start dancing to happy
mommy torn between
whipping out the camera
and joining him