just a thought

i put a lot out there in writing, to get rid of it--
feels good to let it go in a way, so i'm not holding any of it in---
once its written its gone, me for that moment, but no longer . . .
but i write about what bothers me, what confounds or angers me . . .
should writing be about celebrating what is instead of bitchn about whatever?
not the first time this has been brought up--
i like to write what i know, unfortunately what i know best is anger and confusion--but in writing about that am i just adding to the confusion, furthering it somehow?

heavy metal car crash poem

Couple days later still kinda sore,
Neck feels like I tore something,
Forced forward from the force of the collision.
Everyone’s fine all walked away,
No scratches no blood no nothing,
Just dazed and surprised and upset.
The other Tony insists that the light was green,
The other driver and another witness say otherwise,
I was too busy checking out cd’s didn’t see.
He wanted back-up wanted me to agree,
I couldn’t say I saw something I didn’t see,
So sorry somehow but I can’t lie.
I lie and cheat and steal and conspire,
Far from perfect perhaps not even good,
But just now I cannot lie about that.
Screeching brakes the sound of metal and plastic snapping,
Shaggy-looking homeboy swearing all the while,
I stare at the cab of the semi bracing for contact.
We hit then bounce back I feel my neck snap forward,
The car stops and dies in the intersection,
I look up to the driver and see him pull out a cig.
His front driver side is smashed rig sits at standstill,
No broken glass no blood no bones snapped,
I, amazed and thankful all at the same time.
Damn those Metallica cds I swear he’s got everyone,
I, flipping through the book while he runs a light,
Or not if he’s telling the truth.
But truth eludes me just now,
Nothing but the sight of the cab rushing at me,
As I sit bracing holding onto the cd’s.
The sound of the horn blaring too late,
The sound of the other Tony cussing and wearing,
“What just happened? My light was green!”
Employees at the ghetto carwash stand and watch,
Walk over to survey the damage,
Everyone on their cellphone calling.
Sitting shaking adrenaline od’ing waiting,
Police finally show up lights flashing,
Need a ride to go get my Thai food.
Too evil to die too good to live,
Probably my grandma still looking over me,
Her influence felt from beyond the grave.
Not much of anything everything’s alright,
Went skateboarding right after work,
To celebrate my good fortune my good luck.
Unscathed and unbloodied riding the board,
Carving and kickturns up on the wall,
Feel more alive than ever before.

two hours after the crash

MAAAANNNNN . . .

Just went out to get Thai food with one of the student interns---
dude ran a red light and we hit a semi broadside . . .
everyone's AOK-- just a little sore and stuff, but both vehicles out of commission for now.
the kid's got every Metallica CD ever released, so i was checking em out and then he's like "OHHH SHHHIIIITTTE"

I look up and I see the semi cab and I try to brace myself for the hit-- I was thinking I was gonna get my face broke at the very least, maybe something else---
weird thing is the air bags never deployed---no brokn glass, no broken bones, so its all good . . .

I'm going skating in 9 minutes--what was I bitchn about again?

unfinished Halloween poem

Trees silhouetted against the gunmetal grey skies
Like skeletal hands clawing its way out of the grave
Reaching vainly towards the heavens for mercy.

what i been up to

haven't been up to much, hanging out at the Old Man Army, not doing much writing or anything like that-- did see Flags of Our Fathers, will try to write a review, maybe not, nobody much reads my posts anyways, so . . .

Fat laces or not?
Whatever came with the dang shoes . . .
Baggy pants or tight?
baggy cuzza my phatazz and thick thighs
Loose or tight fitting shirts?
loose due to my beer belly
Hi-top or low?
lows these days
Studded belt or regular?
regular old black pleather
Stocking cap or baseball hat?
under the helmet? watcha mean?
Tats or plain?
tatted, more to come
Boxers, whitey tightey, or commando?
boxer briefs—

In my CD case today:
Husker Du- New Day Rising
7 Seconds- Walk Together, Rock Together
Minutemen- Double Nickels on the Dime
Descendents- Somery
Fear- The Record
Bad Brains- best of Comp
Minor Threat- Compete Discography
Dead Kennedys- Plastic Surgery Disasters
Dead Kennedys- In God We Trust, Inc.
New Order- International
MDC- Best of . . .
Dinosaur, Jr.- Whatevers Cool With Me
D.R.I.- Dealing With It
Offspring- Smash
Black Flag- Damaged
Bob Marley- Mellow Mood
Bob Marley- Soul Rebel
Bob Marley- Duppy Conqueror
Bob Marley- Legend
Jimi Hendrix- Best of . . .
Meskwaki Nation- Pow Wow Songs
Northern Wind- Jingle Dress Pow Wow Songs
Millard Clark- 49 Songs (hand-drum)
2Pac- All Eyez on Me
Gypsy Kings- Best of . . .
Kraftwerk- Robots
Marley kids & guests-Chant Down Babylon
The Smiths- The World Won't Listen
Gang of Four- Entertainment

Books I like:
The Indians of the Western Great Lakes 1615-1760- W. Vernon Kinietz
Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee- Dee Brown
Spirit and Reason- Vine Deloria, Jr.
The Great Law and the Longhouse- William N. Fenton
The Mishomis Book- Eddie Benton-Banai
Ojibway Tales- Basil Johnston
The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven- Sherman Alexie
Black Elk Speaks- Black Elk and John Neihardt
Brave New World- Aldous Huxley
1984- George Orwell
The Way It Is- Ajahn Sumedho
Shambala- Chogyam Trungpa
The Tao of Physics- Fritjof Capra
Turtle Island- Gary Snyder
ANYTHING BY SHAKESPEARE

it was nothing special

There is not much I can tell you about my childhood
It was nothing special not to me anyway
But we were raised differently you and I
The context/circumstances are totally different.
I was just thinking about your mom’s appendectomy,
You were six weeks old or something like that
Suddenly I was forced to take care of you
Since Mom wasn’t allowed to lift you at all.
It forced me to take an active role with you
Middle of the night feedings diaper changes
It forced me to be a father a dad
And it couldn’t have worked out any better.
I didn’t even meet my father until I was five
He was forced into the role of father unexpectedly
Did the best he could under the circumstances
spoiled as I was, headstrong, language barrier and all.
I tried to learn from his mistakes
Raised you quite differently
Gave you love and support in all things
At least that is what your mother and I strived for.
Life throws challenges and situations our way
To make us stronger to help us learn
Your health has been a hurdle to all of us
But the lessons to be learned are many.
Life is short and no one knows when it will end,
The everyday struggle blinds us to that fact,
But each and every moment of every day
Should not be wasted or be taken for granted.
You are already ahead of me in so many ways
How you carried yourself persevered against illness,
What you think and how you express those thoughts
We have tried to give you everything that we lacked.
I do not have most of the answers that you seek
Many perceptions and beliefs have turned out wrong
My cravings and clinging are for material things
My concepts and paradigms are built upon illusions.
I hope that we have pointed you in the right direction
That you will succeed where we have failed
There is no integration of theory and action
But our hopes are with you and with the future.
My baby boy turns fourteen in a matter of days
It really does seem just like yesterday
I used to think that was such a stupid cliché
But now I feel it see it for myself.
Someday perhaps you will tell your children
That your childhood was grand and glorious
That your parents treated you like a prince
Because they loved you so much.
We do not have much as far as material things
Despite my obsession with collecting and spending
but we have tried to give you a solid foundation
tried to give you a childhood that was extra special.
Like Prince Siddhartha you were pampered and spoiled
But like the prince you will have to venture outward
And see disease old age and death for yourself
But we never shielded you from the truth.
Life is full of paradox and confusion
Beauty and ugliness pain and joy intertwined
I do not have the answers for you my son
But our love we have given for you to carry forward.

to my son

Do not cower from the collision
You have nothing to fear except fear
Open yourself to the moment
And all its endless possibilities.
Release the stranglehold of self-judgment
And live your life to the fullest
I have seen the brightest fade to oblivion
Before they were given a chance.
I have seen the smallest become the greatest
The greatest become flotsam
And everything else in between.
Anything is possible and everything within reach
Life will drag you down if you allow it
Do not go gently do not give in.
Give everything you have leave it there
So you can say I gave my very best
That is all that we can do all we can hope.
You have a warrior spirit you must trust
I have seen you battle so much
Faced with your own mortality
You fought through the pain and fear.
I doubt I would have done the same
Many would have given up long ago
So understand that you have the capacity
You have the capability to succeed.
Do not dwell in the coulda shoulda wouldas
Lower that shoulder and plow forward
Unleash that warrior spirit
And live your life to the fullest.

some sort of homecoming

Sitting in the metal bleachers at the high school,
Homecoming night football game,
Watching the boy march and cheering the home team.
Announcer welcomed all the grads,
Maybe just a handful there-
But I grew up somewheres else.
What would my homecoming be like,
A hundred miles to the east,
Nineteen years after the fact.
Would I see familiar faces amongst the crowd,
Or has everyone moved on and out
To bigger and better things?
Would my return be triumphant,
Or would I be ashamed of who I am,
Whatever it is I think I have become?
Why do I even care for their opinions?
What would it matter either way?
People and places from long ago,
Only hold sway because I allow it,
I give them power over what I think.
In the end I don’t think it matters,
crowd at my son’s school is the same,
no different from the one at mine.
The kids are pretty much the same,
No matter where you are on this continent.
The demographics might not support it,
But our world continues to get smaller,
Kids are pretty much the same from wherever.
Thanks to cable and the internet,
Homogenization crossing barriers all over,
Good and bad just like everything else.
Hip-hop nation in the suburbs of Detroit,
Just like Toronto or New York City,
Sameness and mass conformity everywhere.
But the truth is that we are all the same,
We have our different languages and traditions,
Different religions and foods.
Underneath it all we are just the same,
We all move along at a similar pace,
Going along with our institutions.
Not good or bad—maybe a little of both,
No judgment just stating the facts,
Showing why I do not need to go back.
Bible stories and works by Shakespeare,
Greek tragedies and comedies,
Written by people long since dead,
Still ring true somehow.
Somehow we have not changed that much,
The poets and sages of yesteryear understood,
Knew that human nature is the same everywhere.
I am not the prodigal son,
My return would not be ignominious or victorious,
There is nothing to be gained in that journey.
My home is right here right now,
Wherever that may be--I am here,
No homecoming is needed when I never left.

a few precious moments

Looking for skateboard poems I found none,
Searched the web stumbled across other crap,
Something about a teacher skating across the world,
Another had rhymes but no soul.
Read Bukowski just for kicks,
Turned away dejected depressed,
But that what do you expect from Bukowski?
I want prose or poetry to describe
That which cannot be described,
Tell me how it feels when you hit the lip,
Slide across the coping and drop back in.
I love the feeling of weightlessness,
Describe it for me so I can experience it,
At the rate I’m going I’ll never know
Never experience it first hand.
I get weightless for a second,
Then chicken out and kickturn back in,
What is it like to hit those hips,
Flying through the air doing grabs as you go,
Endless grinds on metal coping.
I’ll never know the way things are going,
I save all my documents under the name delusion,
People tell me I am running away,
Going skating to evade my responsibilities.
So many things in this life I cannot control,
For a few previous moments I feel connected,
For a few moments I am weightless.
My breathing labored my body sweating,
Feel alive again for a moment or two,
Before it all comes crashing down around me.
Riding the banks and transitions,
Carving along on the concrete wall,
For a few moments I’m in the flow,
Before I slam brutally on the floor.

under the lights

We skated under the lights last night,
Made the trip down to Mason,
Jonesing for the last ten days for a session.
My boy was too battered and bruised,
Trying to play the foosball like Bobby Bouchet,
So he just chilled and watched from the shadows.
My babygirl dropped in said it was way too small,
Too fast for her to do much of anything,
Still needs to work on her carving.
My favorite corner was away from the lights,
Only three throughout the park,
Hitting that tight corner got pretty sketchy.
I went too high had to bail-board jumped up,
Bit me in the shin bleeding turned to hematoma.
Battle scars fresh and new bloody socks,
Part of the price of playing this game,
Broken skin beats broken bones so I don’t complain.
Local newbies were trying to kickturn,
Accompanied by Peterson—some kid that had mad skills,
Flying all over the place grinding ollieing 50/50’s.
Bummed a square complemented them on their park,
Sometimes the kids are alright just kids skating,
Kids just like we were whole lives ahead of them.
Full moon rising cold October evening,
We could see our breath as we pushed and carved,
Bailed and kicked wheels barking boards flying.