already too late

Feels like it’s already too late,
Missed all my chances,
Ran from my own fate,
Couldn’t wouldn’t cope,
Wished I was wished I had,
Now I stand upon regret,
Clinging to the only thing I know,
Self doubt and all that other crap,
Not wanting to voice my views,
Kept it all inside kept it all tucked away,
Too afraid to even try,
But it’s always screaming to get out,
Need to find a way need to find my voice,
Before it’s really too late,
Before I’m six feet under,
Or ashes scattered to the wind,
Never to be heard from again,
Wasted my entire life,
Wanting to be something,
But never daring to even try,
I keep shaving of all my hair,
So I don’t have to see the gray,
Trying to stave off tomorrow,
Always living in the what-ifs,
Wondering if I had what it takes,
What if I just started living,
Stopped waiting for something,
Stopped looking for someone,
And found my own way,
Stop hoping and praying,
To gods and ghosts I don’t trust,
Yell it out shout it out,
From the depths of my lungs,
Just to hear my self for once,
Just to feel alive while I still can,
Stop wishing for a different life,
Stop wasting away my short days,
Find out who and what and why,
While blood still flows through these veins,
Before I’ve grown angry and bitter,
At imagined foes and imagined affronts,
Before I start believing my own stories,
Of how I shoulda been coulda been,
When there is no one left to listen,
When everyone else has moved on,
Before I realize it’s never too late.

waking up in the middle of the night

Waking up in the middle of the night,
Head covered in sweat,
Sinus migraine roaring to the fore,
Stumbling out to the bathroom,
The smell of mold and neglect,
The sharp shock of the fluorescent light,
Boards creaking under my feet,
As the house and city sleep,
Bodies shifting under blankets,
Fidgeting and kicking in the night air,
Fighting off the weight of the day,
E quietly giggling at some imagined joke,
Some crazy shenanigans on the t.v.,
Deep asleep but kicking his blankets free,
Sweat box child emanating heat,
Running and kicking deep into the night,
Until the day light starts to trickle in,
Until the cardinals outside wake him,
When he whispers for them to shut up,
Then he gets up and goes to the bathroom,
Wanders off to see what’s on Nickelodeon,
I lie on my bed trying to hide from the light,
Shielding my eyes with a musty pillow,
Remembering the million things I need to do,
The things that take up all my time,
That wakes me up in the middle of the night,
That I run from every waking moment,
Only to be caught with my guard down,
Rotting me from the inside out,
Stealing precious moments,
Wondering when it will end,
Wishing for a way out,
Nightmares and day terrors,
Vicious circle spinning around.

7.14

I just got up from the table and walked out,
Didn’t say a word to anyone,
Didn’t even turn to look when my son yelled for me,
Just kept walking away from the Tim Horton’s,
Hungry and thirsty from the early morning swim,
Sick and tired of everything,
Sick and tired of the whining and bitching,
Disappearing into the apartment complex,
Then skirting the drainage ditch just beyond,
Walking through the tall weeds toward the soccer fields,
I hit the bike trail in full stride never once looking back.

Hatless and wearing a black shirt in 90 degree weather,
I was soon covered in sweat as I pounded down the asphalt,
Bikers and joggers eyeing me warily as they passed,
Apartments and offices soon gave way to open fields,
A small stream hid off to my right,
Down a steep heavily wooded bank,
I could hear bullfrogs proclaiming their supremacy,
I was running away again just like a child,
Maybe I should just keep running this time,
Just disappear into the haze and never return,
Just keep walking from town to town.

I never even wanted to go to MP,
Too much drama too much angst,
Just heard about a murder/suicide,
The murder was a case of mistaken identity,
The funeral for the rape/murder victim is tomorrow,
And I heard the neighbors found her in the yard,
Thinking it was a mannequin,
Rigor mortis distorting her form,
Her 79-year-old grandfather sent into shock,
Shockwaves rippling through the community,
And Little Man still AWOL since last week.

Life begins with so much promise for all of us,
Then fades away to emptiness right before our eyes,
All the things we thought we believed in,
Turns out to be nothing but half-truths and lies,
Myingan tells me Ivy, the victim, was just over at the house,
Early last week visiting his woman and their baby,
And now she is just a memory and nothing more,
Lying in her coffin like a mannequin once again,
Fresh out of chances and whatever else,
Just a crazy story for people to tell their kids,
About the haunted house over on Ojibway Dr.

Just give me the word and we’ll run away,
We’ll just hit the road and see where the wind takes us,
But I’ve got some baggage I need to bring along,
Just a couple of things to drag me down,
A little self-hate and self-doubt to keep me company,
A little something to help me kill the time,
As time kills me ever so slowly every moment,
Waiting for the final one when I breathe no more,
Cold lifeless body rotting away waiting to burn,
All the broken hearts I’ll leave behind,
All the promises I never intended to keep.

I will let you down just like everyone else,
I will hurt you given the chance,
There is nothing left inside this empty shell,
The breath of life wasted on me,
I would call but I don’t want to hear your voice,
It gives me hope when I know hope isn’t enough,
Makes me want when I know that it won’t help,
All the damage that I’ve done to myself,
Can’t be undone no matter what,
Just wasting away the days until I die,
All hope is gone, all hope is dead.

I’m all thought out with nothing left to say,
Spent five miles stewing about everything,
An hour plus along bikes trails and sidewalks,
Feet killing me in my 10-year-old Nikes,
Sun burnt head starting to burn,
I stumble into Aladdin’s to eat falafel,
The A/C hits me just through the door,
And I order more food than I’ll ever eat,
Double-fisting ice water and Mt. Dew,
Staring out the window at the parking lot,
Mind blank and quiet for the moment.

What is love what is life,
Just a mystery to me,
A part of the Great Mystery, Gitchii Manidoo,
Manitou: spirit/mystery, somehow becomes God,
What is it that we pray to then,
But the great unknown and unnamed,
Christians insisted upon a patriarchy,
Hierarchical authority amidst the void,
To control and cajole what we can’t grasp,
But it is sexless formless egoless void,
It is and it isn’t at the same time.

But why is my life as it is,
What choices have I made or refused to make,
How did I get to where I am,
Why do I choose to torture myself,
All good questions with few answers,
None of them easy or plain,
So I pound myself into the ground,
Annihilate my senses with drink and sweat,
And hope for a happy outcome somehow,
Despite the fact that I deserve nothing of the kind,
Spinning my wheels and wasting my time.

My mind gets unhinged in the night,
Phantom fears and worries pile up,
Otherwise I feel dead all of the time,
Another’s death brings me back to reality,
Reminds me of how close we all are,
To our final moments and final chances,
But none of this brings me any closer to you,
And none of that matters to anyone else,
But you’ve got your own issues as well,
None of which I can help you with,
So powerless I will remain.

Nothing else left to say,
Stuck in a holding pattern for some time,
The wanting and needing never goes away,
Know that you are buried deep inside me,
Just need to let the words flow,
Write down the bones and see what happens,
Need to learn to just let go,
But need to steer my life in some kind of way,
Stop hoping for things to turn out right,
Stop trying to waste away my days,
Before I convince myself that it is too late.

in the field

My grandmother’s house in Ban Nong Sai sat on stilts like all the other houses in that part of Thailand. They had been built like that due to the massive flooding that occurred during the monsoon season. You had to climb a ladder to get to an open deck area and there was just one large room where everyone slept and a covered area where they did all the cooking.
Grandma had these huge clay vats sitting outside the kitchen area which collected rain water for cooking and drinking, which was supplemented by daily trips down to the canal. I remember men in a huge diesel truck delivering two of these vats to grandma’s house when I was young. The guys and the truck must have been from the neighboring town of Udon Thani, as no one in our village even owned a car.
Converted Toyota trucks would pick passengers up several times a day to take them to Udon so they could go shopping or to movies or whatever. The truck beds were equipped with wooden seats on either side and a canopy overhead. A short ride on the “dollar bus” would take us from the Bronze Age into the twentieth century just like that. Udon Thani had such luxuries as electricity and running water which the villagers of Ban Nong Sai did not enjoy.
The cooking area was where the women would stay while they were in labor and they usually gave birth there as well. One of the family members would start the fire and they would keep it going throughout the labor. They even called it “sitting next to the fire” and supposedly the heat somehow helped speed up the process. My grandmother was the village midwife, so I guess I had seen her helping to birth all the kids a few years younger than me, including my sister.
My own birth was a little different, as all things about my life seem to be. My mother sat next to the fire for hours, starting sometime around noon. About dinner time, my mother was still having labor pains, but my hairy little head had yet to poke its way out into the world. She was having extreme cramping and decided at some point that she really needed to go to have a bowel movement. No one in Ban Nong Sai had a bathroom at that time, but each family had a designated area for people to relieve themselves.
My grandmother’s house was next to my aunt’s and uncle’s, all three of them in a little compound. There was a family garden for the three to share and beyond that was a shitfield as well. My mother made her way down the ladder and walked slowly, stopping often to catch her breath in between contractions. She finally made it to the field and squatted like she had done thousands of times before.
That’s when I decided to make my grand entrance into the world. When my head crowned, she had no choice but to keep pushing. So my mother, the daughter of the village midwife, sat in her family’s shitfield and gave birth to her first child by herself. I landed in the field, at my mother’s feet, covered with the ancient detritus of my family.
That’s how my mother explained my nickname, Hua Ki.
Shithead.
She only started calling me Tony sometime during my teens.
She explained to me that her people are very superstitious and that they give their children nicknames to confuse and ward off evil spirits. I guess that makes sense. My grandmother gave birth to twelve children and only five of them made it to adulthood.
But shithead?
I don’t recall my cousins having nicknames like that.
My mother has made the mistake of calling me by my nickname at Thai functions and you should see the looks I get. My people are ethnically Lao, from the northeastern part of Thailand and many of our customs are viewed as being a little odd by other Thais.

birth certif

My birth certificate lists my father’s name as “America.”
I’m not sure why.
Maybe my mother didn’t remember my father’s name.
Or maybe she didn’t believe him.
My father had left Thailand sometime before I was born and my mother tells me that she never told him that she was pregnant. So he went off to Spain or Iran or wherever Ford-Philco had sent him to install microwave dishes and various communications hardware. Ford-Philco was a government contractor but some of their funding and some of their jobs came straight from the CIA. Like the month my father spent in Vientienne, Laos, bugging the U.S. Embassy.
It seemed a little strange to him, but he was just following orders. Just living it up overseas while the Vietnam war raged two hundred miles to the east.
An Ex-Marine, Mohawk/Polish kid born and raised in Detroit living like a king in a huge bungalow just outside of the U.S. Air Force base in Udon Thani, Thailand.
That’s where my parents met, I guess. She was his housekeeper. Or so they say.
I’m not sure how they communicated when neither of them spoke the other’s language.
In my mother’s broken English, my father’s name would have sounded like “bad” and “good” combined.
“Bah-dee”
Good/bad?
She must have thought it was a joke. He’s bad at being good? He’s good at being bad?
So my mother listed “America” as my father’s name.
She listed my first name, Tony, phonetically in Thai. Not a real word but two sounds.
“Toe-Nee.”
She didn’t realize that it was a nickname for Anthony and for years, teachers and acquaintances would ask or assume that my first name was Anthony.
Nope. It’s just plain Tony.
I always wondered where she got the name from—I guess she knew a G.I. named Tony or something. She’s never given me a straight answer and my father always gets a little pissed when the subject comes up. Maybe it’s an ex-boyfriend or something.

dream state

digging and digging, scratching and scratching,
getting nowhere, going in circles throughout the night,
finally give up and roll over on my side,
hours later I wake up shivering, throat on fire,
the alarm clock mocking me from the dresser,
I latch onto sleep, hoping for rest and meaning,
lost in my mind, minutes drag by slow as lifetimes,
eyes open again, alarm clock’s red glow omnipresent,
all sense out the window, mired in the moment,
jungle vines and tree roots reaching for me,
had always thought that the mind was simple,
making sense out of the complicated external,
but I feel and see that the opposite is true,
the natural world simple and plain,
mad rush of thought and feeling,
dragging us back into the primordial ooze,
how did we ever make it out,
how did we ever conquer ourselves enough,
to build and create despite our worse selves,
that unknown and unexplored territory,
pushing us pulling us every which way,
usurping and destroying out of sight,
at odds with the everyday rational mind,
our shadow selves hold the real power,
decides what we do and who we are,
and so many of us so out of touch,
blind to our own desires and justifications,
scratching an itch that won’t go away,
digging and digging ourselves deeper and deeper,
in ever widening circles every day every night,
wasting away lifetimes minute by minute.

somuchdrama

walter&freda yelln at each other last week, now they got an investigation goin on,
don't know who started all that but everyone heard freda being a beotch,
telling Walter to stop doing something, then told him "its none of your bidness"
when he axed why, then yelln telln him that he "was out of place" out of line or something,
right in front of the newbies, for everyone to hear, so i don't think they'll get their insubordination,
think they're super might get bit in the end, stirring the pot over nothing,
then jules starts cryn in the middle of all that when she saw walter took her Birthday off,
after all he's got the seniority but that only counts when its in her favor,
went blubbering on about turning 40 and blah blah blah after and over the top,
axed her bout what just happended, thought someone died or something,
axed her bout the incident, wadjya hear, wadjya see, boy that was kwazy,
but she kept talkn bout walter, talkn bout her birthday spent by herself,
just her and her dogs, like a cat lady with canines, like that was more important,
can't take the time to worry bout somebody else gettn suspended or fired or whatever,
then suddenly Freda’s gone for a week without warning, just like that outta the blue,
and walter sits there playn on his Iphone, trying to log into something or other,
15 warrants waiting in the queque, all way past two hours, just killing time,
just handing the ammo over to the fella on the left or right, big target on his back,
but everything always stays the same, no need to quicken the pace,
need to do like leta and ‘little B’ lookin busy for all to see,

tripping down memory lane

Tripping down memory lane,
Thumbing through an old musty yearbook,
Almost twenty five years old,
Suddenly wanting to remember,
Suddenly interested because of some goofy dream,
Sitting and talking to a ghost from my past,
Needed to know what she wanted me to see,
The old feelings come roaring back,
Remembering things long since suppressed,
Reminded of my mercurial self,
So full of promise with endless tomorrows,
Somehow walked away from everything,
Burnt those bridges so long ago,
Missed so many chances just out of spite,
Angry and bitter at imagined slights.
Memories frozen in time,
Just a snapshot out of the blue,
I remember the faces and the places,
The ancient hallways of my youth,
Bustling with angst-ridden teens,
Searching for their place and meaning,
The old hurts and wrongs come rushing back,
School boy crushes and long buried feelings,
Long days of wishing I were somewhere else,
Just killing time until I could fly free,
Dreaming of all the things beyond our little school,
But now I find myself wishing I had stayed,
Wishing I had lived a little bit more,
Wishing I had done something else,
Wasting away the present with regret.

summer rains

the summer rains never came,
the river lay languid beside the trail,
dried up and discarded,
like the rotting deer off in the woods,
antlers pointing heavenward,
as the hide slowly falls away,
a little bit more each and every day,
felled by the hand of fate,
after dodging arrows and bullets,
trains, trucks and cars,
only to collapse in cool solitude,
I stop on the bridge to stare at the river,
reduced to a stream under the wood slats,
trash piles at the bend off to my left,
old tires, a chair, part of a mattress,
the detritus of a university town,
as runners and bikers pound past,
the bridge echoing their footfalls to the treetops,
and I roll away in relative silence,
everyone plugging away the world with their Ipods,
just a nod or a glance my way but not a word,
as I roll under railroad trestles,
then finally squeeze beneath the highway,
twenty-five foot concrete pylons holding traffic aloft,
semis and commuters rushing by without a second look,
I ride past the sewage treatment plant,
the smell of rotting something fills the air,
as a fisherman pulls a sickly red salmon to shore,
the water a little bit deeper thanks to the plant,
water bubbling out of an underwater pipe,
just as I catch up with the women’s basketball team,
all wearing matching tops and bottoms,
some towering over me as I slip past,
the six-foot-nine center looks bigger in person,
her sculpted legs glistening with sweat,
the picture of physical perfection,
in an otherwise barren landscape.

daylight savings

Daylight savings time again,
Used to be in April time they’d add another hour,
Changing it up just to confuse us,
Often wonder what difference it even makes,
Still not used to early mornings after all,
It’s only been five years or whatever,
But I wake up all the time at every hour,
Won’t make a difference until this summer,
When the sunset lags behind past my bedtime,
Like a visitor too reluctant to leave,
Not wanting to miss a single moment,
But nothing is really worth staying,
Just sticky confusion stretching into nowhere,
Days growing longer as the night shortens,
But they grow more boisterous as it warms,
Nervous system tries to squeeze out the toxins,
Sweating away trace amounts of regret,
Voices clamor and battle into the night,
Mechanical carnage waits on every corner,
Shattered glass and gasoline stream,
Shards of plastic cladding ripped and torn,
Unnatural blue lights illuminate the scene,
Early morning about 4 a.m,
All is calm on the weary city streets,
Street sweepers and cop cars circle,
Like buzzards searching for carrion,
And the days drag on into the autumn,
When they wind it all back again,
And make us repeat the previous hour,
As if that would fix everything and make it right,
Fighting back the long cold winter nights.

cold water rushing

Cold water rushing spinning spitting
I hear it dripping in dark corners
Covering up the tiles and the piles
Clothes and blankets water logged
Impeding the flow to the sump pump
Which gurgles and gasps and spits
Drain clogged by unknown unseen sludge
Cold clean water seeps through the pipes
Hear it drip and splash and flush
Through concrete walls falling on tiles
Somewhere in the dark wet earth
Before it pours into the pit
Before it seeps into the basement
Covering old toys and books
Extension cords and shoes
The cycle of wet and dry
Begins to rot the fibers
Blown into the air by the fan
Sick again sick again
World spins away in a deluge
Drenched and soaking choking
Powerless before nature’s might
Huddled in blankets through the cold dark night
Let me sleep let me sleep
Wake me when it is all fixed
Wake me when it is all done
Water-borne damage just too much
Where to even start where to begin
Just feel like giving up
Fighting to stay afloat
One more day one more chance
Somehow something might just turn out

song fragments II

Waiting on the moon, to wax and to wane,
Spinning me around, driving me insane,
Peeling off my skin, try to get away,
Let it pass let go, every single day,
Makes me want and need, like an animal,
Needing too much, so irrational,
Early morning gloom, thinking about you,
Living dangerously, the things that you do,
Tension starts to build, need your sweet relief,
Got me on my knees, need to set me free,
Mind spins and staggers, anticipation,
Hard to catch my breath, emancipation,
Just wanting to talk, talk leads to touching,
Body takes over, we end up clutching,
Eternal moments, free from every care,
Silent exchanges, in darkness we share

Got nothing to say,
On a cold gray day,
Used up all my shout outs,
Trying to stay afloat,
Broker than broke,
Doing the best I can,
Always looking for something,
Feels like less than nothing,
But it never comes along,
Keep missing my chance,
Forgot all my plans,
Like I had any anyways,
Wishing I had done this or that,
Always something that I lack,
Certainly convinced myself,
Just need to know it’s alright,
Gonna be OK despite,
All the ways I’ve tried otherwise,
Let’s just roll the dice,
Wouldn’t it be nice,
If things worked out for a change,
Or maybe if I were satisfied,
Feel like my life was justified,
Stop dreaming and start living again

frost forming

Frost forming on my mask,
Each time I breathe out,
Frost forming on my mask,
Absolutely no doubt,
Frost forming on my mask,
Winter chill in the air,
Waiting for snow to hit the ground,
It’s flipn cold out here,
I’m just trying to get to work,
Gonna be dodging snowflakes,
It’s freezing outside,
Squeeze those brakes, squeeze the brakes,
Don’t want no car/bike crash,
Too much drama in the morning,
Sick of the daily grind,
Depression hits without warning,
Quickly running out of time,
No end in sight,
Day after day,
Waiting for the light,
It’s gone away,
Frost forming on my mask,
Each time I breathe in,
Frost forming on my mask,
Waiting for the end,
Frost forming on my mask,
So I can begin again.

missed the whole point

I’m keeping time with bad company,
I myself and me, I myself and me,
Throw my fortune to the four winds,
Dying for my own sins,
Trying to find a reason why,
But reason plays seek and hide,
Seek and destroy my own soul,
Nothing left but an empty hole,
The time was never right,
Was never even within sight,
The time was always wrong,
Just like in that one love song,
Keep telling myself that I don’t care,
But this is more than I can bear,
I’m keeping time with bad company,
Wishing for the fates to set me free,
It’s just that the time was wrong,
Should have known all along,
Star-crossed and confused,
Ego battered and bruised,
What’d I want, what’d I expect,
What little blame will I accept?
I missed the boat, missed my chance,
Too busy trying to get into your pants,
Missed the whole point of living,
Might look back and not be so forgiving

duck and dodge

All I can do is sit back and laugh,
Duck and dodge and wait for the aftermath,
Everyone just doing the bare minimum,
Has been that way since the last millennium,
Not that I’m keeping count, not that I care,
Just wonder why they bought the software,
Miss B won’t life a finger, Miss M about to go off on medical,
High seniority rules, union mired in something technical,
So they earned the right to do nothing,
Money for nothing ain’t that something,
Hired off the street with no qualifications,
While mentally on permanent vacation,
They’ve earned the right to do very little,
Getting soft and round in the back and middle,
Wasting time eight hours a day,
Aint’ that the American way,
Looking forward to trips to Disney,
Mindless thrills for the brainless, Miss B,
Miss M having an anxiety attack,
I wonder why she even came back,
Wasting time telling people what’s what,
Doing no work and anything but,
Couldn’t get a job anywhere else,
Only concerned about themselves,
Nothing an issue unless it affects them,
Makes me wonder where they’ve been,
Lost in a haze on the employer’s dime,
Wasting away the days and wasting time

trying to hide

Curled up, curled away, curled up next to you,
Trying to get inside, trying to hide,
Drown out everything outside,
Shut out the light, shut out the noise,
Bury myself inside, only sound is your voice,
Freeze the clock, freeze this place, in my mind,
So I can recall and come back all of the time,
Whenever I’m in need, whenever I need to be freed,
Trapped within my own shell, living in my own hell,
Silent moments, never ending moments, just let go,
Forever’s a really long time, sometimes I just don’t know,
Seeking ever bigger moments, seeking ever bigger thrills,
My mind’s shot to hell, I never get my fill,
The needing never seems to end, no end in sight,
Needing you always, day and night,
The rush of blood, legs go weak, soul aching,
Sweat pours and body starts shaking,
Trying not to ask too much, need you again,
You gotta promise not to stop when I say when

some people

Some people so stupid they don’t know their own name,
Some people so stupid they act like they got no brain,
Nothing matters cept for what’s in their face,
I look at them and think what a waste,
Their world is just what they see,
There’s more to life than what they put on TV,
Nothing’s ever a problem til it affects you,
Perfect little lives outside of the loop,
Mommy and daddy still wiping your butt,
I look at them and think what the f@#$,
Must be so nice having life figured out,
Living a life free from doubt,
One day some day you’re gonna be by yourself,
Just like the rest of us, with no one else,
In your dark night of the soul,
What will you do, where will you go,
In your world everything is black or white,
Either/or, this or that, always right, always right,
I just hope I’m not around when you realize you’re wrong,
Don’t need to gloat, don’t wanna see you sing another song,
Broken down with no place to go, just another rolling stone,
When you got nothing, nothing to lose, all alone,

where were you?

Where were you years ago,
As I grew up lonely,
Confused and frustrated,
Lost in the city and suburbs,
Skimming along hoping for better days,
Found myself in your eyes,
What-if thinking just tantalizes,
But what if then instead of now,
Would things be different,
Or somehow worked out just the same,
Destroyed by my indifference,
My feigned apathy,
The weight of that place,
Bearing down on our souls,
Or would we have figured out a way,
Two strangers in the wilderness,
Helping each other through the morass,
Modern living cut off from the real,
Just need a taste of something real,
Need to feel alive even for a few moments,
Before my days come to an end.

stay inside

Stay inside stay inside,
Tops of my thighs cold as ice,
Nose hairs froze,
As I stepped outside,
The crunch of frozen snow,
Under my boots,
I’m sure the Inuit have a word for that,
Cheeks starting to burn,
About to hack up a lung,
Northern Ontario weather,
So far to the south,
Reminds me of playing hockey on the beaver pond,
Minus the fun minus the friends,
Minus the exhilaration,
All the cold and none of the good,
But at least the wind isn’t bad,
And I’m almost to the bus stop,
Even though the bus will run late,
And I’ll miss my connection,
And I’ll have to walk an extra half-mile,
But my thoughts keep me warm,
The promise of coffee on the other end,
But honestly and truthfully,
Just wish I could have stayed in bed.

penned in

Penned in by time and circumstance,
Boring you with my long silences,
Each of us hoping I leave much unsaid,
Pretend that we don’t notice,
But maybe it’s for the best,
Too much drama everywhere else,
No expectations, no strings,
Leave things as they are for now,
Unknown pleasures shared and released,
This remains unnamed and unattached,
Transcending language and limitations,
A life simply lived instead of overanalyzed,
Reduced to catch phrases and labels,
Unbound by our grasping minds,
Springs forth of its own volition,
Organic in nature and composition,
Watch it grow, watch it grow
No words, no judgments,
See where it takes us,
Then let it go, let it go.

mind of its own

The river with a mind of its own,
Constantly jumping over the banks,
Wild and free,
Dragging everything downstream,
Powerful and beautiful at the same time.
Luscious landscape scene,
Rolling hills and verdant valleys,
Over the flat plains,
Lose myself in the nooks and crannies,
Down to the wooded strip,
Into the vale of bliss,
Pungent and sweet,
Back up to the mounds,
Liquid flowing underneath,
Life-giving force of nature,
Smooth and pure as driven snow,
Taut against the air,
Like flesh about to spring into action,
Holding on for life,
Holding on to the earth mother,
Bosom of creation,
I lose myself,
I lose myself,
Disappear into the landscape.

bike lanes

The city threw up bike lanes,
But nothing has even changed,
It was supposed to slow the flow,
But the cars speed through even though,
Four lanes reduced to two,
Plus a turn lane that’s brand new,
Hardly a soul as I pedal to work,
Other than a few random jerks,
Flashing their brights at me,
One flash now I can’t see,
Some drivers pass me in the center lane,
I’m glad they give me some space,
But is their driving that really that poor,
Maybe I’ll squeeze into the lane a little more,
Watching folks roll through stop signs,
Driving too fast, driving out of their minds,
Busy talking on their cell phones,
I’m just trying to get home,
Don’t hit me, don’t run me over,
Pray that you’re all semi-sober

fragments II

can't hardly breathe, air crushing my lungs,
nerves shot to hell, no escape no hope,
every passing glance an accusation,
no refuge from prying eyes,
hide myself amongst the trash and garbage,
the moldy stench of surrender,
the butt of all the inside jokes,
waking up in a cold sweat,
all the lies laid out before my eyes,
delusion and treason woven into every pore,
who to believe, who to trust,
silently screaming on the inside,
phone ringing off the hook,
operators barking orders to my left,

entropy the only truth, only death is real,
all else lies and fabrications,
drunken stupor just to quiet my mind,
only to wake up and live through it all again,
body betrays me all the time,
facial tics and a slip of the tongue,
stomach cramps and a jittery leg,
sweat oozing from every orifice,
burning from the inside out,
the children look at me with wondering eyes,
I look away and remain silent,
Not wanting to fill their heads with more lies,
See my failure written on their faces,
As I stand dying right before their eyes.

song fragments I

Happy for bits and pieces,
Just alright in between my fixes,
Always looking for something else,
Blaming everyone but myself,
And so it goes for so many years,
Between nicotine fits and beers,
Waiting for the next shoe to drop,
What’s wrong, well whatja got?

Whatja got, sure I’ll hate it,
Whatja got, yeah I’m jaded,
Whatja got, you can’t fix me,
Whatja got, then it hits me,
Whatja got, I don’t need it,
Anger so deep-seated,
Don’t care whatja got.

This silly song is about nothing,
Can’t play guitar, can’t even sing,
Three simple chords and distortion,
Rhyming couplets perfectly proportioned,
Playing music just to soothe my soul,
Living just for rock and roll,
With that massive guitar roar,
Playing third generation post-hard-core,
Three chords and not much more,

fragments I

Contours and curves,
Smiles and looks,
Soft hair falling around my face,
Smooth undulating sheets underneath,
The rise and crest of cottony bliss,

Breathe you in as you exhale,
Little deaths from time to time,
Longing for more,
Heart beating through my chest,
Thoughts stand still for a moment

Light seeps through the window,
Time stands silently watching,
Chest rises and falls,
Deep breath in deep breath out,
A thousand tomorrows put on hold.

One infinite moment unbounded,
A brief glimpse of the eternal,
All else falls away,
No questions no judgments,
Sweet eternal bliss for one moment.

Walked down to the river,
Patches of ice and snow over the trail,
Where I wasted so much time and sweat,
Lost myself and found myself,
Dreaming of you the whole time.

Don’t think I’m gonna look back and laugh,
Just wanna forget the whole thing,
Tuning out as much as I can,
If anyone’s crazy enough to listen,
Then the blame lies with them.

Super phat stacks, rained on half way,
Shrouded in mist, had nothing to say,
The fragrance smacked me in the face,
Even before I knew you were in the place,
Had to go out and look, just need to see,
Just to torture myself, and that’s when it hit me,
Just killing time in between, days fly by,
But time stands still, when by my side

Small moments, when I can hear time tick away,
Just enough at times, keeps the demons at bay,
Can’t break away, can’t find another route,
Trapped and sinking, not wanting a way out,
Intense moments even doing nothing,
Just small talk, but it feels like something,
I never know how to feel, the air goes electric,
I hear my heartbeat, I hear the seconds tick,
Just the mere presence, just being in the vicinity,
What does it all mean, maybe just some kind of affinity,
Just enough to keep me wondering, never too much,
Keep coming back for more, keeps me caught in the clutch

A socially awkward moment,
At least once every single day,
Or so I’ve heard,
So the experts supposedly say,
I’ve surpassed my quota,
By at least five-fold,
Barely finishing my sentences,
Shaking and shivering from the cold,
Sputtering and spitting out random words,
Making up my own twisted sayings,
As sense goes out the window,
Minutes away from going stark mad raving,
Almost hollowed out, shoutn out loud

chasing the moon

had this crazy dream last night
was there with my ex trying to work it out
ended up just giving up just like before
then another came along and promised me so much more
but I knew they would all turn into lies
knew from the beginning but just kept trying
then I rolled over and there you were
perfect form perfect morning
soft and warm as you turn
dimples above your cheeks
as your warmth engulfs me
as I grab and knead
holding on for dear life
but then I’m alone again
running from room to room
as water starts to rise from below
from depths unseen and unknown
slowly it starts to recede
damaged wood and sunken floors
picking up my duffel bag to leave
then realize that I’m under arrest
I try to explain and try to creep
but the darkness closes in on me
and I awaken with a start
aching back and spinning head
go through the motions once again
searching for clothes and shoes
cluttered floor cluttered mind
I finally stumble out to my bike
full moon floats above the treetops
its work done for the night
it slinks away in the early morning
as I chase it westward through the darkness
silently rolling over deserted streets
as the cobwebs start to fade away

Husker Du?

You were wearing your big floppy hat,
And that smile that would make Mona Lisa envious,
As we sat on the beach outside Tel Aviv,
Mediterranean Sea lapping at our legs,
White caps waving to us from the sand bar,
As we ate falafel and lamb and shooed away seagulls,
Or that long arduous hike up the Himalayan foot hills,
Following monks on their pilgrimage in the Nepalese frontier,
The rooftop of the world, didn’t care as long as you were there,
Reminding me that everything was alright, that it was o.k.,
To want and to need, dreaming my silly dreams,
All the while watching the world go by,
Within and without, accepting things as they are,
The setting sun never more beautiful,
Than when I am with you, regardless of locale,
And so I keep remembering, as time flies past.

Do You Remember?

Remember that time, long ago but seems like yesterday,
You and I in the boat, off the Italian coast,
Blue green waters of the Adriatic Sea,
Salt water spraying us both, tossing us around,
No place to be, nothing but time on our hands,
Or that time when we went to Hong Kong,
Going from stall to stall, just to see what we could find,
Cluttered alleyways, teeming with millions,
But you were the only one that mattered to me,
Or the temple in Bangkok, with a sea of humanity,
Monks giving traditional tattoos on festival days,
The tropical heat pressing down, my shirt drenched,
Your sun dress so cool to the touch, hugging you jealously,
As I dragged you off through crowded city streets,
Or biking through the French countryside, in high summer,
Before stopping into a roadside bistro, baguettes and ragout…