Sunday, October 23, 2011
Movement
I’m moving
on
past
the old
boundaries of
I do not do
that
I don’t
think I can
I’m too old and
I’m afraid.
I’m plotting
a new course
steering
clear of old distractions
three steps
forward
two back
taking the
time
to listen
and learn.
Pressing on
because I MUST
and sidetracked
because
I hunger for
what is comfortable
choosing
safety
quelling my passion.
AND yet, I
thirst
to make a
difference
to leave my
mark
to plant a
seed, my seed
in the wild
weed-ridden
misconstrued
fields.
Hoping to
turn wildflowers
into diamond
pink petals and
lavender lined
gardens
into a redolent
harvest
of hybrid
teas.
My arms open
willing to absorb
the risk
stir in a
bit of pain, discomfort.
I step up
into judgment
reaching out
past the wise ones
the kupuna who
have led me up to this place
the highest,
most precious peaks
in the shadow
of the Koolau
spreading their velvet-green robes
beyond
my
self-imposed
self-absorbed limits
crowning present
possibilities
seated upon this
pivotal throne.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Friday, October 14, 2011
Dreaming
Dreaming about the day when I am a superstar can only take me so far and then what? Will I magically transform into a superhuman being save lives inspire rewire the cosmic hard drive? How will it change our universe reflect refract belch suck up expand in a meaningful way? and to whom and for what purpose? Does anyone REALLY know and see the BIG picture?
There are literally thousands of theories bombarding us everyday electrons protons atoms smashing splitting all around us it’s amazing that we can HEAR decipher anything at all. Anything viable that is over the concussion percussion discussion Maalox Taxes Medical bills Unemployment Drug addict superstars ENABLING doctors Food borne illnesses Egos of giant corporations selling us one last pull on the MEGA BUCK machine. Now concentrate stay with me This is it! Don’t waste it you can almost taste it on the tip of your tongue and then… it’ll be gone. In the meantime you'll pick yourself up dust yourself off and continue to play this amazing game of pretend. And wait for it...there’s a Barker with a GIANT MEGAPHONE...directing you to step this way!
Okay--class let’s pretend EVERYTHING will all work out that all of this chaos is insignificant and our distant relatives or GODS if you prefer from heaven are just a little late to pick us up for our continuing trip on the way to our NEW HOME where everything is waiting for us pristine a paradise of epic proportions and everybody you ever knew is waiting there for you to fill you in
on what you’ve been missing and they are so glad you came and the only thing you are sorry about is that it took you so long to die. Then they take you to feed the machine you know the human eater that shiny metal object over there with the teeth. Yeah—the one with your name on it. But don’t WORRY because you won’t feel a thing because you are already DEAD NOPE—won’t hurt a bit AND THEN… Then… you can eat all that ice-cream and all the artery clogging shit you’ve ever wanted but couldn’t have because of stupid things like high cholesterol and heart disease. You know… because --like you won’t have a heart anymore. NOPE…you won’t have a heart a body limbs Or a BRAIN.
You’ll just be a transparent ground-up form floating around in the ether and shucks I really hate to burst your bubble but you know that safe ice-cream that I was telling you about? Well that shit ain’t real either But it… Bitch--SLAP sure was one hell of RIDE wasn’t it?
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Silly--Savvy
Copy this
down but only
take credit for
what is yours
something I heard
repeatedly in school.
Stick it
don’t pick it
on the wall
from the ground
where the moon don’t shine.
Paste your words
and your turds
on a visible sheet
separate the wheat
from the chaff
and laugh
don’t frown
lift your chins
stretch your neck
because heck
it just ain’t
pretty anymore.
Inspire
don’t tire
or get stuck
in the quagmire
of forlorn
torn
and unglued.
Paint
don’t faint
from that beer
or good cheer
staring at the belly
of jelly
in the bottom
of your glass
fat bass.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
The Difference is ME
The difference is ME
not some world
that you hang on a chain
around
your neck
that
stiffly smiles
indifferent.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Don't Suck-- Spit
You know the spiel.
Get inspired
Write about something that moves you
Paint using vivid images
And if you can’t
at least have the good sense
to make it short.
Sell it
Show some cleavage
Leave them wanting more
And If you are lucky enough and talented enough to get noticed
go to the awards ceremony, celebrate
But don’t let it get to your head
Stay humble
afterwards go home and
write something else.
Stick with what you know
stick with what works.
Scratch that,
It really doesn’t matter
what subject you choose
it isn’t even the style you use
all that really matters is if
anyone else cares
or can relate to your
drivel, I mean
take spit for instance.
Yeah—you heard me….SALIVA.
Now let’s show what would happen
if I spit on the sidewalk…
Or—if you’d rather go first
I’ll wait.
it wouldn’t be as interesting though
as if I spit in your face
now would it?
I mean
think about it
what could you create with spit
maybe take a stick
a little paint
some canvas
an old T-shirt
It might translate into something unique
It might even parade around as ART
SURE…
and pretty soon EVERYBODY
would have to have it
and it might even come in different textures
and tongues—LONG WINDED ONES
AND before you know it
there would be a MOVEMENT
And people could follow your BRAND
and you could get a Twitter button
It would be so COOL and like
maybe the Kardashian’s would
design some spit fashions
for Sears
and well
the rest...
The REST
is still unwritten.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Just This
Love means
I’ll help you pack
then prepare your dinner
but stress me out and I will eat
your young.
Red Dawn
The sun winks red-faced
on its upward climb
chased by sultry hounds
slobbering wet kisses
drenching the cracked brown earth
snaking a path to the sea.
Two dendrobiums snatched
by teething pair
chomped
discarded
alone.
The culprits
soon jailed
by a critical gust
curling hot on their
red heels.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Pregnant with Possibility
Mother Earth
orbits the Sun
pregnant with the seed of life.
Papa Moon glows
rocking the vast oceans
flexing his muscles
at the growing
galaxy
he has considered
since the ancient of days
in this vast playpen growing, multi-hued and
littered with the debris of self absorbed toddlers.
Time passes filling the void
pressing against the outer limits
stretching, kicking, gurgling and cooing
Until...Uncle-- Papa cries, finally
shaking his head
fixed on a yellow star
as it transforms into a red dwarf and explodes
ripping a black hole
into the silk wall
silhouetting space time
inhaling all, including Mama and her afterbirth
extruding still, new dimensions
on an infinite cycle
alive with possibility.
orbits the Sun
pregnant with the seed of life.
Papa Moon glows
rocking the vast oceans
flexing his muscles
at the growing
galaxy
he has considered
since the ancient of days
in this vast playpen growing, multi-hued and
littered with the debris of self absorbed toddlers.
Time passes filling the void
pressing against the outer limits
stretching, kicking, gurgling and cooing
Until...Uncle-- Papa cries, finally
shaking his head
fixed on a yellow star
as it transforms into a red dwarf and explodes
ripping a black hole
into the silk wall
silhouetting space time
inhaling all, including Mama and her afterbirth
extruding still, new dimensions
on an infinite cycle
alive with possibility.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Love in the Time of Compost
Love allows
that even a clothes horse
can have an off day
and knows when to put the blinders on.
Love bows at the sacrificial altar
of burnt beyond recognition
with a branded tongue.
Love relaxes with the Kama Sutra
inhaling a strawberry soufflé
sensually whipped.
Love lets you have first dibs
on the massage chair
kneading and pummeling your
way to RELIEF---
then hands you a post hole digger
to plant a 3' tree.
and knows when to put the blinders on.
Love bows at the sacrificial altar
of burnt beyond recognition
with a branded tongue.
Love relaxes with the Kama Sutra
inhaling a strawberry soufflé
sensually whipped.
Love lets you have first dibs
on the massage chair
kneading and pummeling your
way to RELIEF---
then hands you a post hole digger
to plant a 3' tree.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
My Memoir
Memoir
I feel
something impossibly small
that might be
pain
as I slide a
piece of paper
under
everything
my mother
said.
*from Curses and Wishes by Carl
Adamschick—Winner of the 2010 Walt Whitman Award
My Memoir
offers no salve
only a shrug
and logic.
Everything
hangs
on
perception
even
the dawn.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Amazon Cloud
Just think
a cloud in cyberspace
intuitive
pink and fluffy
no storms
no lightning
no rain
just white wispy platforms
floating in a blue field.
And you are tiny—and SKINNY
safely spinning round
smiling and laughing
and dancing to
the syncopated
do wop day glow
of a Bali autumn night.
Diddly bop
Scooby dooby doo
scaz fraz, raz ma taz and you are caught-up
in a time warp
where everyone is young
and a half dozen orthopedic shoes
swing on a clothesline along with
black and white oxfords
and toe shoes
AND they are ALL YOUR SIZE.
Daddle waddle ding dong
shoo-do-doo- woosh wow whee,
bam-bub-bee, zoosk zoos-zingin
And now you are in Macchu Picchu
twisting with Chubby Checker
and you get it—you’re connected to the source.
Blaze a blingin
tootin and scootin
without a care
tripping lightly
down the stair
with long flaxen hair
flawless skin
and your butt, hips and thighs
make grown men drool
cause your flying without a license
fresh out of school
you are so cool
and SOOO flexible.
Then you sneeze
and break the spell
OH-HELL
and you are back
but for a few syncopated moments
you were at the center of the cosmos.
A universe unto yourself and
it was HEAVEN
and Life is Like That
when your head is in a cloud
and you’re wearing rose colored reading glasses
and earphones with a mic.
Can you hear me now?
Shimmy shimmy
bing bang bong.
Crank it up, Babe
I can still hear myself
breathing.
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