June 5, 2008
The Soapstone Box
He keeps his secret safe inside
a square soapstone box.
The leaves now dried,
long after she has died.
The cancer had her feeling tired.
He wanted her to feel better.
It was calm and easy with
The perfect poison she preferred.
Their daughters would never know.
Locked up tight,
Protected by the engraved lions might.
A flower from her casket,
His key to the secret untold.
Written for an assignment about a literal soap stone box from the Middle East.
Monday, August 10, 2009
The Guillotine
July 25, 2008
The Guillotine
Patriarch, Matriarch
Honor and Glory
blood ties
run and drip drop.
France falls with
cannonballs, heads
of all the dead
kings and queens.
Tyrants that taxed
and ate cake.
Acting fake, all the
way to the ax!
Why should We care about history?
The Guillotine
Patriarch, Matriarch
Honor and Glory
blood ties
run and drip drop.
France falls with
cannonballs, heads
of all the dead
kings and queens.
Tyrants that taxed
and ate cake.
Acting fake, all the
way to the ax!
Why should We care about history?
To Head Out West
July 7, 2008
West
To head out west
A Statement to ourselves,
Freedom from the rest.
Taking time from the shelves,
Starting a new quest.
Growing in new ways
Leaving - our old,
Sleepy lives in a daze.
We head out west.
In a letter to Josh Dollar, good friend and roommate.
West
To head out west
A Statement to ourselves,
Freedom from the rest.
Taking time from the shelves,
Starting a new quest.
Growing in new ways
Leaving - our old,
Sleepy lives in a daze.
We head out west.
In a letter to Josh Dollar, good friend and roommate.
Rain's Shadows
July 23, 2008
Rain’s Shadows
Wind blows rain into the window, plip plop, against glass.
Black raindrop silhouettes lay across two naked bodies.
Growing, as they project across onto the dorm room door,
Dripping, toward the light from the crack above the floor.
Thunder, trembling bodies, fingers, like rain, slide down,
Barely touching soft skin, as the storm lights up the room.
Black shadows dance on and off clothing, strewn ~ across tile
Rain’s Shadows
Wind blows rain into the window, plip plop, against glass.
Black raindrop silhouettes lay across two naked bodies.
Growing, as they project across onto the dorm room door,
Dripping, toward the light from the crack above the floor.
Thunder, trembling bodies, fingers, like rain, slide down,
Barely touching soft skin, as the storm lights up the room.
Black shadows dance on and off clothing, strewn ~ across tile
Her Choice
Her Choice
June 29, 2008
They sat in an old red car,
In front of old, red picnic tables,
Dusty gravel settled under tires,
Stillness rose after the engine cut.
Broken silence, soft sobs,
She told him it would have to go.
It was not his, the thought hurt him though,
He touched her stomach.
Sad thoughts rolled down red cheeks,
Hands were held, promises made.
Silence fell and so did rain,
Large drops plopped the windshield.
She would go down to Memphis,
Herself paying the way.
He would drive up to help,
Not the father, but her neighbor.
She brought a girlfriend that day,
He waited outside to help them.
Hours went by slowly,
One problem taken away.
The Red Roof Inn for the night,
He couldn’t let her pay.
They laughed in vain, and cried
Sleeping clothed on top of covers.
June 29, 2008
They sat in an old red car,
In front of old, red picnic tables,
Dusty gravel settled under tires,
Stillness rose after the engine cut.
Broken silence, soft sobs,
She told him it would have to go.
It was not his, the thought hurt him though,
He touched her stomach.
Sad thoughts rolled down red cheeks,
Hands were held, promises made.
Silence fell and so did rain,
Large drops plopped the windshield.
She would go down to Memphis,
Herself paying the way.
He would drive up to help,
Not the father, but her neighbor.
She brought a girlfriend that day,
He waited outside to help them.
Hours went by slowly,
One problem taken away.
The Red Roof Inn for the night,
He couldn’t let her pay.
They laughed in vain, and cried
Sleeping clothed on top of covers.
Smyrna
New Smyrna Beach
August, 13 2008
During the day dozens of dumb dirty sheep
Crowd the shores with bucket chairs and seats.
Two fat Yankees riding along the beach
Scare flocks of seagulls off the sand
Sending them shitting on other tourists.
Families walk with white winged Terns,
Kids collect shells in bare feet like it’s a treat.
Blind as they are to a dozen dolphins
Feeding on fish meat. Tossed and turned
In the water under old balconied suites.
Late in the afternoon on the Atlantic,
Foreigners to Florida walk the white sandy beach.
A fat kid kills crabs with a stick,
Teenage girls wiggle, dance and screech
Like the gulls circling just out of reach.
Rainy Day in Smyrna
August 15, 2008
Grainy white sands rub the bottoms of my feet
Tall condominiums shadow the light beach
Looking over a dark blue green Atlantic Ocean.
Clouds moving from the inland darken sky,
Water, sand and the moods of beachgoers,
As they pack towels and children in cars.
Out of the storms path beyond the oceans wrath.
Back to a suburban hell for a better beating.
August, 13 2008
During the day dozens of dumb dirty sheep
Crowd the shores with bucket chairs and seats.
Two fat Yankees riding along the beach
Scare flocks of seagulls off the sand
Sending them shitting on other tourists.
Families walk with white winged Terns,
Kids collect shells in bare feet like it’s a treat.
Blind as they are to a dozen dolphins
Feeding on fish meat. Tossed and turned
In the water under old balconied suites.
Late in the afternoon on the Atlantic,
Foreigners to Florida walk the white sandy beach.
A fat kid kills crabs with a stick,
Teenage girls wiggle, dance and screech
Like the gulls circling just out of reach.
Rainy Day in Smyrna
August 15, 2008
Grainy white sands rub the bottoms of my feet
Tall condominiums shadow the light beach
Looking over a dark blue green Atlantic Ocean.
Clouds moving from the inland darken sky,
Water, sand and the moods of beachgoers,
As they pack towels and children in cars.
Out of the storms path beyond the oceans wrath.
Back to a suburban hell for a better beating.
A Longing Best Ignored
10/1/08
A Longing Best Ignored
I long for her being here,
The feel of her body against mine,
Her soft milky skin against my back,
Fine hair lying across my neck,
Toes touching tenderly the backs of my calves.
I long for her leaving here,
The smell of her lingering in sheets,
Hairs from her head on my pillows,
Warmth left on my mattress,
Her essence clinging to my senses.
A Longing Best Ignored
I long for her being here,
The feel of her body against mine,
Her soft milky skin against my back,
Fine hair lying across my neck,
Toes touching tenderly the backs of my calves.
I long for her leaving here,
The smell of her lingering in sheets,
Hairs from her head on my pillows,
Warmth left on my mattress,
Her essence clinging to my senses.
Railroad Lake, 2001
June 16, 2008
Railroad Lake, 2001
Undressing, we watched each other in the dark.
Cool early summer night covered our bare, naked bodies
When we raced down to the slippery bank. Slowing
To enter the almost cold, still water filled with
Slimy turtles darting under foot, scaly fish nipping body parts,
And gross green algae rubbing our pale soft skin.
A young blue-eyed country girl rubbed her small buttocks
Against me, neither could see the other blush.
We walked out to the drop-off until we were treading water,
We splunked and sploshed with each other,
Giggling as teenagers do. The houses across the lake
Barely illuminated our excited silhouettes as we floated flirting.
Too cold for comfort we swam back to the shore.
Shaking in the moon lit short grass we began getting dressed,
Deliberately bumping into each other. Finally,
As if it should have lasted longer, loading up
Into the truck and driving back where we came from.
A response to the poem “Belle Isle, 1949” by Philip Levine
Railroad Lake, 2001
Undressing, we watched each other in the dark.
Cool early summer night covered our bare, naked bodies
When we raced down to the slippery bank. Slowing
To enter the almost cold, still water filled with
Slimy turtles darting under foot, scaly fish nipping body parts,
And gross green algae rubbing our pale soft skin.
A young blue-eyed country girl rubbed her small buttocks
Against me, neither could see the other blush.
We walked out to the drop-off until we were treading water,
We splunked and sploshed with each other,
Giggling as teenagers do. The houses across the lake
Barely illuminated our excited silhouettes as we floated flirting.
Too cold for comfort we swam back to the shore.
Shaking in the moon lit short grass we began getting dressed,
Deliberately bumping into each other. Finally,
As if it should have lasted longer, loading up
Into the truck and driving back where we came from.
A response to the poem “Belle Isle, 1949” by Philip Levine
To A Little Blonde Girl
June 6, 2008
To a Little Blond Girl
Up till dawn talking, lying naked, side by side. Hot,
Steamy Mississippi night covered our bodies, “Say what you feel.”
“I think I love you.”
We stared into darkness laughing, my hand moved slowly down her body,
Tracing my favorite scar I smiled, and followed sweat further down…
Wishing we could waste Time away, together, forever.
However, sun will rise soon to the day we’ll be severed
To a Little Blond Girl
Up till dawn talking, lying naked, side by side. Hot,
Steamy Mississippi night covered our bodies, “Say what you feel.”
“I think I love you.”
We stared into darkness laughing, my hand moved slowly down her body,
Tracing my favorite scar I smiled, and followed sweat further down…
Wishing we could waste Time away, together, forever.
However, sun will rise soon to the day we’ll be severed
Groundhog Day
May 29, 2008
Groundhog Day
Rolling hills of cool blue wheat surrounded us,
Staring at one another, me in the shade of my barn,
The metallic cage shone in the hot dry sun.
Scents of green alfalfa and dry manure,
The wind blew the long stale barn doors,
As a chain rattled inside the hard vented cell.
I felt the cold steel in my hand,
He stared at it obliviously.
Inside, the barrel must have seemed infinite.
His head shifted and cocked to the left,
Shaking he retreated to the back of the cage,
Holding back his wild instincts to
The shaking stopped and all was still,
Echoes from the barn and far off hills,
Red blood I could almost taste.
No more holes in my barn.
No more home on my farm.
His skin still hot from the burning sun,
Fur caked with blood and mud,
Kneeling over the shining cage.
The job is not done,
Digging further into one of his burrows,
I drop him deep within the earth,
I must reset the trap for the others.
Gun safe on my shoulder, I head home,
A salty drop shines down my cheek,
My 12 year old feet walk the pipe across the creek.
Groundhog Day
Rolling hills of cool blue wheat surrounded us,
Staring at one another, me in the shade of my barn,
The metallic cage shone in the hot dry sun.
Scents of green alfalfa and dry manure,
The wind blew the long stale barn doors,
As a chain rattled inside the hard vented cell.
I felt the cold steel in my hand,
He stared at it obliviously.
Inside, the barrel must have seemed infinite.
His head shifted and cocked to the left,
Shaking he retreated to the back of the cage,
Holding back his wild instincts to
The shaking stopped and all was still,
Echoes from the barn and far off hills,
Red blood I could almost taste.
No more holes in my barn.
No more home on my farm.
His skin still hot from the burning sun,
Fur caked with blood and mud,
Kneeling over the shining cage.
The job is not done,
Digging further into one of his burrows,
I drop him deep within the earth,
I must reset the trap for the others.
Gun safe on my shoulder, I head home,
A salty drop shines down my cheek,
My 12 year old feet walk the pipe across the creek.
Burnt
Burnt
5/30/2009
We put the fire out in New Orleans,
What embers left only in dreams.
Smoldering ashes full of strain,
Left in that Louisiana rain.
We came together to fall apart,
One last time to be sure of our hearts.
The city raised our pulse,
But it was all in vain.
She knew before she came,
We’d leave it all in the rain.
That’s why I didn’t feel blue,
Because, I . . . knew it too.
5/30/2009
We put the fire out in New Orleans,
What embers left only in dreams.
Smoldering ashes full of strain,
Left in that Louisiana rain.
We came together to fall apart,
One last time to be sure of our hearts.
The city raised our pulse,
But it was all in vain.
She knew before she came,
We’d leave it all in the rain.
That’s why I didn’t feel blue,
Because, I . . . knew it too.
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