Category: poetry

My madness is catchy

 
 effortless fall
 slim attitude freedom
 slums of solitude
 and frank forgiveness 
  
 no neck cowardice 
 leonine simplicity 
 matter of fact rage
 faulty anger
 and last but not least 
 misunderstood kindness 
  
 stuttered on the wind of terrors
 and uttered over flames
 of fires no longer burning
 but still singeing our souls
  
 I grope my mind for my 
 own madness
 and hope I can find it

math

 
 my willingness to part with sadness
 is an equation with no solution 
  
 half forgotten teacher of madness
 release me from my pride 
  
 I’m  done thinking about 2+2=4
 I need a more solid and complicated formula
  
 derivatives, calculated risks, probabilities of success
  
 where will I end up at the end of this equation
 what’s the sum total of becoming a basket case
 or even worse 
 I could disappear and = 0
  
 or
 I can have some new proof, meaning, wholeness, truth, wisdom
 and the ability to receive it
  
 and all I have to do is give up my attachment to sadness and let go
  
 the math is easy
 but performing the calculation is not
  
 it’s a long and winding staircase that gets foggy as soon as you start climbing
  
 where will I find my faith?
  
 not in tears 
 but in counting them
 and the clarity that comes after them

The basic lizard

 
 The basic lizard 
 flies its colors 
 whenever it wants
  
 It zigs, it zags
 It complains
 by shedding its skin
 and becomes next level extra
  
 It wishes it was a snake 
 but its not that smooth
  
 it sees the cracks 
 and escape routes
 It survives and 
 takes pleasure in 
 the sun with 
 infrequent blasts 
 of joy 
 and corniness 
  
 Its  laughter is so rusted
 it sounds like ancient wood and nails 
 creaking
 in doorways
 that don’t need to be opened or confronted
 because you can shed a tail and slide through them
  
  
 But its basic lizard laughter all the same
 And it has served its purpose

Girl Storm

Aware of her jagged rocky fingers
she stretched ever so slowly
and almost wistfully across the prairie

She was the wind that interrupted the sunset
with clouds and rain
of varying monotones and roaring thunder

She was the rock that interrupted the wave
and turned it into chaos

She was the dawn that woke the birds
and inspired cacophonous chirping

She destroyed as she created
rainbows, birdsongs, and new shapes in the rocks 

She was old and new at once
and the passport to innovation
and the reckoner
of tepid stagnation

Saint Elmo’s Hypotenuse

fitful flights of the hypotenuse 
exponentially allied with its own inner turmoil

come around another bend and you’re stuck in a new angle.
reminiscent of some prior angle but at least it’s new
the new now angle is exciting , so different, so the same

quick boredom sings the same song in a different key
it’s not innovation it’s modulation 

find me the tool to stretch the hypotenuse, and I’ll show you a new shape and a world with some incremental progress.

a new spike in the middle of the same old 2d landscape 
a mound, hell I’ll settle for a small nub.
a tiny blinking LED button
press now and see the whole world light up 
like St. Elmo’s fire

SONGBIRD

broken birds fly high
the rainmaker will nourish your tiny souls 
the habits of sparrows are followed closely by 
the avian record keeper

things change slowly 
like watching feathers drop
slowly down
to the ground

solid ground 
too hard to peck into for a mere snack
but good enough for the feathers soft landing
and maybe also for
the grounding of the broken bird