Digging Under My Own Dirt

Whatever you remember
Pass it under the table
So I can keep it for myself
I have secrets
Which I sell for tips

I sing songs of victories
Sometimes just over my own desires
I write verses of hope
That I make it through the next time I sit down to write a poem

I was born in the afterlife
I was raised in infinity
I was brought face-to-face with death in the present
And I want to go back to the beginning

Some who knew who I was
Remember the hope I used to have
And what I hold up now
Is the hope that hope returns


A family is just as close as my Internet connection allows
They sing and play together
Like there is no tomorrow except
The one in their imaginations sweet
Like honey that drips through the heart and onto the mind
Yes, it drips upward
Moving at the speed of the sound of dreams
Moving at light years ahead of those who want dreams to die
This is the family of precious resistance
This is the family of jeweled hope
Caressed with loving care
Into verse and chorus
Hugged tight in arrangements
That are long lost friends
This is a ladder to the stars,
Winding from room to room in heaven
This is the breath of life
A song to what can be
When we find our true home.

Lyrical Beauty

Last updated on July 18th, 2018 at 01:29 pm



[H/t to Sabrina Benaim (https://www.facebook.com/sabrinabenaim.sb/) for the motif from her wonderful poem “First Date”]

I want to write poems of lyrical beauty
Or, maybe I just want you to listen
And by listening, I mean I want you to pause in a dark alleyway
When you’re not sure which way to turn
And head toward the light
By light I mean I want these words to come into your head
When you struggle to speak to another soul
I want to be your words
I want to be the space between your syllables
I want to be the breaths of air as you think of the letters
I want to be the aftermath as the sounds roll off your palate

That moment when the star
Calls out for a fan to come onstage
And sing along
I want to be your harmony
I want to be that breath of anticipation
I want to be that moment of hesitation before you jump
And then I want you to wake up
With me in your arms

Necessities 1

I strain to listen
Old as I am
Deaf to change as I am
Blind to reason as I am
Afraid to die as I am
I strain to hear the voices
Calling me
Telling me I can be whole

I reach for a remote to change
My life back to what I wanted
When I was young
But the channel is stuck
The program repeats over again
Until the time comes to sign off for the night

The sign-off program used to play that poem “High Flight”
“Put out my hand, and touched the face of God”
I just want to touch a face that touches me back


Measured tones
Quiet voice
Strong hammer-like wit
A piece of ancient history
Modern dressed archaeology
I was his son
When he preached
The earth didn’t move
But the heart did
And it beats in me still
As I contemplate how to stay alive


For David Glaser

I will lift you in my arms
And carry you through the minefield
Jumping for joy

I will take you into
Dreams I have yet to fulfill
Singing while I chase the future

I will forge an anvil
Of hope
From the aching hearts

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Rap When I Should Be Sleeping

Too much
Too little
Too late
Nothing is prescribed
Can’t decide
Too much
Too little
Too late
Nothing is expected
Nothing has changed
Estranged from reality

In truth,
I can’t rap
I can’t make good beats
I can’t make good enough words
I can sometimes barely live and breathe
Enough to satisfy
My expectations of my own power

But that has never stopped me
From trying
From reaching out beyond myself just one more time
Putting one foot in front of the other
If not in my mouth
Putting one more morsel of food in my gut
Putting one more crazy idea in my head
Thinking someone will love me
Thinking someone will remember me

For A New Age

Not every new age practitioner is a hustler
Not every magician is a mystic
Not every girlfriend is a life partner
Not every moment is the last one
You and I are standing here on the bridge
Looking out over the dark and dank river
That flows alongside the verdant path we walked
And toss stones and stories into the tepid water
A plane crashes in the woods, snuffing out a life
Children play alongside the tracks
Where freight travels from one endless day to the next
The lessons we learned in our lifetime
Don’t measure up to to
The stones and the tracks and the freight and the broken metal
And the memories we hustle

Dinner Rush

People fought wars to get into this dining establishment
But on this glittering evening
In full view of the celebrities
And the lottery winners of the coveted tables
She took off all her clothes and ran through the room
Shouting with glee and wild abandon

Alfred was stuck to his seat because
His mother wouldn’t let him have dessert
Until he finished his vegetables
And now he triumphantly lifts up his fork and shows his empty plate
And mouth
Like a garland of war

So her companions tried to calm her down
And cover up her imperfections
And their sensibilities
While Alfred absorbed the sorbet

Years later, I am reminded of this as I pay my final respects
That night at the restaurant
I only saw your shining eyes
I don’t even remember the menu
I don’t even remember the place closing down for the night around us
I don’t remember you


My circles get smaller
Just when my dreams explode
I see you in the distance
But I can’t reach you
Because the leash is too short

And somewhere on the border
Between what I am
And what I was
And who you are
And where we find our dividing wall
There is a scream coming from the ground
And it says

If you step here
You will never come back
And If you fight the boundaries
You will bounce off the walls
Until you are silenced

Once there was a pen
And there was no one
To fill it with ink
But that emptiness
Was its boundary

I am that pen
And I scream to write