Category Archives: poetry

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!

Just another Tuesday on Eastern Avenue

1-800-Jesus
on a bus billboard
silently tells my old man,
outside the Burger King,
that the halfway house can
snap a heroin needle in half.

But my old man
was too busy
picking dirt from his nails
drinking from a bag
chewing his bottom lip.

My old man was
in a dirty argyle sweater,
just another on a bench
that sizzled in the heat
like a dying
cigarette,
like singed fingertips
black with ash.

Working in Spring

I am in a cave,
walls slimed with apathy—
Outside’s topped 80 degrees and the trees are whistling
while they work at blooming, and
the fat groundhog plays
landscape architect with the grounds.

In my cave, there is a small hole
way above my head,
not unlike a prison window,
And in through it drips drops
of sun and smells of fresh cut grass;
I can taste the world turning into another season
even if I can’t see it.

Goes to show
The universe will begin and end
unaffected by my
work.

Steam like Weiland

In honor of some still ringing ears from a wicked (wicked!) show last night at the 930 in DC with Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, thought it was time for this one written loosely about one of my fav frontmans (written back aways, slightly revised here).

Steam like Weiland

Steam from my Lipton’s
hot tea
dances like Scott Weiland
and wails
like a hot electric guitar lick
and fogs up my eyes like cataracts.

Oh the nights
where smoke replaced steam
moonshine instead of tea
and I need not imagine him
close enough to smell
the sweat.

Remember hot heat,
grind and sway
so close,
that plush hot heat,
that same song request
and that hot hot heat.

When tea cools down
the steam leaves drops
cold slippery, falling asleep.

For a Moment

Wrote this quickly a long time ago (circa 2003 maybe). Most people, I think, will be able to relate in some way or another…. Now, heading out to enjoy the weather and a great concert with BRMC tonight (black rebel motorcycle club) Till tomorrow… Oh, and if you can, let me know if you like hearing background on the poems or if you prefer just to see them posted alone!

For a Moment

for a moment
when it was safe
she thought about him
when the world wasn’t paying attention
she ran her fingers through the memories
and remembered him
when the day buzzed by
and clamored on with heavy ideas
she slipped away
and felt him smiling slyly
as he always used to do and
she sang with him
away from the paperweights and mouse-pads
she danced with him
when it was safe
she kicked back and dreamed of him,
sweetly and sadly,
then the world came roaring in again and
she can’t go back again
though for a moment
she thought she had.

my sister’s curly hair

When the light is right
her pretty curly hair looks red
like the darkest melted color of a sunset
or twined tree branches, free and wild,
growing down her shoulders dark
like chocolate cherry ivy.

We go places together
slip into hazes of Thursday night bars
with loud old bands
dance in the changing lights and
her curls bounce and twirl in time.

When she shakes her head at me
with a small smile
the curls fall quietly down
like waves of rain breaking
from a heavy cloudy sky

and when we swim laughing
in blue oceans of Carolina
the curls surround her like seaweed
dissolving
into salty reflections of sun
quietly fashioning night.

Even Memories Fade

Written late in the night many years ago. Found it in a handwritten book of notes. I have no idea, on a beautiful day like this one, why I felt like posting it.

Even Memories Fade

you, disappearing slowly,
a mist
a past a past life
crawling away from here like your life
depended upon it
but you really didn’t care that much about life
anyway
you, disappearing slowly,
and I
sit sit still watching
not concerned like I thought I would be
I thought I’d feel
an emptiness for the loss
but instead only numb
nothing.