Category: poetry

• kitty in my lap (haiku)

  kitty wants to help
  write a poem with her paws
  type with a clack, purr.

  April 18, 2010

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• with headphones on

  wrote this little piece during my first job out of college, sitting in a cubicle, working on a task…. actually “pre-iPod” but still relevant, maybe more so now. since I’m “working” on this Sat morning, I thought I’d post!

  with headphones on

  a lucid dream
  where legs in blue jeans 501 walk by
  in time to the drumbeat in my head
  and the carpet has a twinkle
  and the lights a wilder state of white, pulsing
  one gray shirt circles and pirouettes
  unaware of his own awkward grace just being
  in a hurry
  the music crescendos and although there are walls
  i am not alone but with you
  while something of a fevered world, those
  conferences and committees, i see
  him and her
  move those fat cat lips
  but there is no sound but me
  hustle and bustle on by you world
  i have my colorful Thelma and Louise escape
  where my wheels are the heavy rhythm
  and the sky is
  my eyes filled with blues

  April 17, 2010

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• modern art by ayn rand

  thrown on a canvas
  and left to dry
  one green streak remains
  living beating paint
  indomitable

  April 16, 2010

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• Man, City, Sky

  a similar feeling
  of sky darkening and quickening breath

  outside clouds gather and puff their chests
  as if to say with a roar
  I am here
  outside the smell of rain perfumes my lungs
  and soon thunder drives
  dangerously close

  tires grip the Jones Falls
  that last turn
  underpass by Penn Station and
  the sculpture of woman and man as one

  the feeling you get
  right after the city skyline opens
  and there skin prickles, shivers
  waits
  a storm a man
  a city that boasts many
  dangerous charms.

  April 15, 2010

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• Vegas Tattoo Blues

  Admittedly, this one is a tad* dark (written several years ago, revised today) but I imagine some of you who’ve have spent too much time thinking in Vegas like I have may understand the concept….

  Vegas Tattoo Blues

  Brown carpet is a
  worn threadbare path
  rough against my arches.

  False air blows brown curtains
  cooly, such a drag.

  My hands so slim and tender
  are steady.

  Despite the night,
  that mascara running, fishnet talking,
  suited pusher, blinking neon,
  jackpot empty promise of a night.
  It stings.

  Pills help, booze too
  but nothing compares to this.

  My eyes bead with water
  like the rows of cars on
  Las Vegas Boulevard, every
  solitary mark belongs.

  I gaze out the window.
  Casinos blink approval
  and bloat their bellies full
  of quarters.

  April 14, 2010

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• Portrait of Baltimore on a Rainy Day Rush Hour

  Sitting in pouring rain
  Cars like mine wait for their turn in the
  Fort McHenry tunnel

  We are worn out in our cells—
  Outside the city
  Wistfully waits for us
  To find a speck of beauty in
  That otherwise dreary face.

  Around me smoke stacks make their way
  Through low weeping clouds
  And piles of salt and coal and dirt
  Seem like shadowy mountains
  And the train tracks are run with weeds
  The buildings are rusted
  Their windows cracked like the dim twinkle
  In the eyes of a man
  Who works hard for his family.

  We are stubborn, strong,
  And the steel is in our veins.

  April 13, 2010

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• dreaming of Turkey

  Today my head is in the clouds. I’m hoping that all this day-dreaming leads to something productive but I remain doubtful. This, below, just had to be jotted down before my caffeine-adled brain skips to another beat….[and if you have ideas for how I can actually get to Turkey, write me!] By the way, ever noticed how some of the most interesting people in the world aren’t the ones writing it down. Man, I wish some of these people would write their stories down!!

  dreaming of Turkey

  people like
  you and me
  we don’t need plans
  we need dreams
  of Turkey
  and my hair unwashed
  from days on a dusty bus
  imagine old buildings
  from that cradle of all cities
  born, first we see the colors
  then the people
  their faces familiar despite
  miles and years of difference.

  April 12, 2010

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• After His Wife Died

  Grand-daughter has with him
  A quiet dinner of
  Ribs and apple sauce and Budweiser.
  No need for words,
  Enough to sit together.

  April 12, 2010

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• here comes the noise

  here comes the white noise
  all noise
  background noise
  devoid
  like the TVs in the window
  black with white screens facing out
  boarded house window seat
  what were the TVs doing on?
  why were they all blank with static?
  white noise
  sounds of scatchhhhhhhhhhhh
  noise
  nothing of value.

  April 12, 2010

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• Opening Day! Let’s Go O’s! (haiku)

  fresh cut grass trimmed neat
  my glove browned tan and beat soft
  one crack of the bat…

  i remember days
  playing catch with my dad and
  imagining that

  girls could play baseball!
  i remember Cal’s card in
  the cereal box

  added a hometown
  smile to my collection, says:
  let’s go O’s, let’s go!

  April 9, 2010

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