just a dream

out into the desert we went,
i'd follow you anywhere,
even to the ends of the earth,
but once there,
was expected to explain,
all these things i knew nothing of,
but that's just it,
just traditions,
but brand new,
making it all up as we go,
act like you know,
just play along,
and no one will question.
yes i've seen that before,
yes that's something our people do,
to honor those who have come before,
what does it mean,
damned if i know,
but let me pretend,
i'll let you play along too,
you wanna know where i'm from?
my reservations pretty shitty,
middle of nowhere,
end of the road,
forget all that poetic romantic crap,
everyone wanted to leave,
those who didn't,
just can't say,
too crazy,
too proud,
too something,
maybe just plain afraid.
so here we are,
we all came to the city,
to make our fortunes,
to blend into the melting pot,
but guess what,
still floating on the top,
like grease skimmed off,
just won't mix,
so what is that,
what is this shit,
can't say,
maybe intergration is just a generation away . . .

legions

A legion of acquaintances,
But few close friends,
The way it’s always been,
Since the dawn of memory,
Since the birth of consciousness.
Outside looking in,
Wanting to be a part of something,
Something greater than the individual,
But too different,
Too singular in some ways.
Even now struggling,
Still looking in,
Even in my own house,
Outside all alone,
Just looking for a way home.
Created my own,
At least tried to,
Still trying,
Mixed results,
Maybe expectations are to blame.
I gave space,
Independence to the extreme,
Where I had none,
Struggling even with that,
Set them free and left alone.
Tricks of the mind tricks of the ego,
Do I push everyone away,
You said you don’t show affection,
Yes you do,
Just not to me . . .

3 lil groms

I like the way these words fall together,
Like a good session, just falls into place,
Nothing expected, nothing wanted,
But there it is, like a smile breaking across my face,
Don’t know where it comes from or where it goes,
Living in the moment, living in the flow.
Rolled to the park with my oldest boy,
Hotter than I imagined, pushing ninety degrees,
Skate park was nearly empty, just a coupla groms,
Assorted fruit-booters as well, seemed kinda green,
They kept falling every time they hit the pyramid,
So we just started carving, just me and the kid.
Lines were wide open, almost too much to choose,
No one was hogging this section or that,
Rolled where we wanted, did as we wanted,
Almost too much freedom, ran out of ideas,
So Zed and I tried a couple of new lines,
Instead of doing the same thing like every other time.
Twenty-plus feet to push, gain massive speed,
Hit the mini-bank, then immediately down the other,
I’m tucked so low, knees to chest, butt to the floor,
Roll over the flat, hit the corner high, six inches from the lip,
Back down again, with a full head of steam, ready to rip.
Up and down the twinkie, seemed to just graze the concrete,
Right into the tranny, rode it and kickturned just below coping,
A new door just opened right before our eyes,
Haven’t seen anyone do that one yet,
So now Zed and I have something else to do,
Gotta keep it fresh and do something new.
Zed skated the egg bowl and half-bowl,
Got carves down both ways on both walls,
He’s got carves down on a coupla other corners,
Did some mini-kickturns, needs to go all the way,
And I was able to throw in a revert to fakie,
Rode up the bank and back down again, not at all shaky.
We both have been progressing, learning as we go,
So hard to believe he couldn’t even roll down a bank,
Just a year ago, but now he’s rolling with me,
Trying to get faster and higher on his carves,
Gotta get him comfortable being up on the wall,
Kickturns and fakies, but he’s afraid he’s gonna fall.
Can’t quite blame him, still got my own fears,
Dropping-in is spotty at best, not at all mastered yet,
I can do it from here, but not from there,
Five feet is alright, but nothing higher,
And still can’t drop into the egg bowl,
Carving that thing remains my number one goal.
When it’s all said and done, we’re sitting on our duffs,
Both holding our boards, watching a crew dropping-in,
Times like those can’t be bought or sold,
Talking about life, talking about anything,
Sharing time and my self with my oldest son,
Teaching, listening, learning and having fun.
Skating is so much more than just a game,
It has given me a new lease on this life,
Reminded me of what’s most important of all,
It has given me a chance to hang with my tykes,
And dad isn’t sitting on the sidelines, but right in the mix,
Skating and carving and getting his cardio fix.
My kids watching me struggle and learn,
And trying to tackle something and slowly improve,
Has given them something solid and concrete,
Teaching by example, learning right beside them,
Has built trust and has strengthened our bonds,
And I just thank God for my three little groms.

17 syllables

(skate haiku version 2)

big soft squishy wheels,
grips and clings to the concrete,
carves so high and fast.

stillpoint of the soul,
ponder the meaning of life,
kickturn on tranny.

concrete nirvana,
dharmasala of the board,
skate and liberate.

born-again skater,
eyes wide-open this go-round,
no more wasted days.

Lox conquered his fear,
did front-side fifty-fifty,
soldiers share his stoke.

tune in and drop-in,
mind and body become one,
board and body merge.

Arizona boys,
skating and spreading the word,
old school rules world-wide.

59 lines

Board on the deck, nudge it forward,
Two quick steps, jump on board,
Down the bank, drop them knees,
Back up and hit the twinkie,
Knees pump up, like pistons,
Like shocks, float over,
Almost caressing,
Legs fall back down,
As you hit the flat,
Bend before you hit the tranny,
Up the wall, just shy of coping,
Carve into my favorite corner,
Goofy-footed backside,
Cruise back down ever so slow,
Onto the flat, roll just roll,
Stretch my legs, slalom if you want,
Then hit the tranny again,
Hit it high, kickturn just below coping,
Feel that burn in your thighs,
Quads and hammys stressed to the max,
Glide down the wall with style,
Nothing left to do but relax.
Chasing after those moments,
When everything seems to stop,
Stallpoint-midpoint-turning point,
Time freezes, cares fall away,
Right here right now, nothing but today,
No past, no future, no more lies,
No more broken promises,
Nothing but what is before our eyes,
Abandon hope, abandon fear,
Deal with what is,
Deal with what’s right here,
Just me and the board and the terrain,
Nothing else exists to tax my brain,
The here, the now, the eternal moment,
Freeze-framed onto the pavement,
Feel my exertion, feel the pain,
Elbows and knees rubbed raw,
Road rash from all my falls,
Pain so sweet, awash in sweat,
Haven’t had enough just yet.
Scraping along the razor’s edge,
Slicing into the consciousness,
Awake, awake, awake, at last,
No future, no past,
Stop speeding through my days,
Bleeding my numbered days away,
Bloodied and beaten body,
Merit badges burned into the skin,
Topped off with a toothy grin,
Breathe in the warmth,
Feel the blood shooting through the veins,
Let go and just ride,
Go out and run in the rain,
Loosen the grip and dread of death,
Live life fully until your last breath,
Seek your bliss, rip and shred,
Live life outside of your head.

sector nines

Gotta get me sum/gotta find,
Soma dose there Sector Nines,
Supa soft and supa huge,
Prolly used for slalom or luge,
Can’t believe how high I can go,
Can’t believe how much I flow.
Don’t know squat about wheels,
But I think those babies are for real,
So quiet you don’t hear a thing,
And to the tranny they just seem to cling,
As I whip through the corner,
So flipn fast/flip on the afterburners.
Always lookn for a little extra something,
To aid with the rippin and the pumping,
Faster bearings/super grippy shoes,
So many options/makes it hard to choose,
What kinda trux/Trackers or Indys?,
Which kinda pads to protect my elbows and knees?
Higher/faster/harder/ pushing past the threshold,
Wherever/whatever that might be,
Whether it’s personal or physical,
Push the boundaries and see where we go,
Pushing harder/faster/higher into the unknown,
Fly/stall/pump/kick your way into the zone.

incomplete...

The mosquitoes were tearing me up,
So many that there was nothing I could do,
I stopped fighting them, just gave in,
What’s the worse thing that could happen?,
I could end up looking like that crazy girl,
The one from Toronto, disciple of great-grams,
Covered head-to-toe with mosquito bites,
During the music festival back on the island.
Mosquitoes from Lake Huron are no joke,
Hovering over you like massive clouds,
Waiting to suck you dry, or so I’ve heard,
But that crazy girl won a Juno or something,
You know, the Canadian Grammy’s,
Singing with an aboriginal woman’s group,
Great-grams sure could pick ‘em,
She was just one of the many followers.
We had to ride with that same girl once,
From Toronto to Ann Arbor, not much fun,
She apparently liked Mariah Carey,
Which is fine, made us listen, but then--,
Decided to sing along, full volume,
Zed was just a baby, two-and-a-half,
In the back seat trying to sleep,
Thought I was gonna shoot that girl.
Might have shot myself if she had continued,
But anyways I digressed quite a bit,
Was talking about mosquitoes eating me,
Half-dozen or so on my arms and legs,
Just laid back on the blanket quietly,
Waiting for the fireworks display,
My kids jumping around every which way,
E chasing fireflies, the other two playing soccer.
The light was fading from view,
Little by little the darkness grew,
Groups of people wandering over,
From the giant mall parking lot,
Eager for some patriotic display,
On this, the 231st Independence Day,
But we just all needed a break,
Needed to get away for sanity’s sake.
Life is never all one way or the other,
And our outings are not quite complete,
Unless I lose my temper and holler,
At them or some nameless other,
Footballs and soccer balls flying every which way,
Got after the kids, asked them to show some restraint,
In a perfect world/maybe I might take my own advice.
But overall it was alright/can’t complain,
A nice evening spent doing something else,
Instead of the usual/staring at the t.v.,
Or sitting on the phone/or at the hospital,
Waiting on someone who is suddenly distant,
Worlds and decades away from all of us,
Just survived double by-pass, but we’ll see,
If she can overcome this/and regain memory.
Booms and crackles/oohs and aahs,
Diverse faces in the crowd/was good to see,
Groups of friend/couples/and families,
Fireflies flying all around/cheers and claps,
Lying flat on my back/football for a pillow,
Staring up at a cloudless sky/stars twinkling,
Smoke from the fireworks drifting slowly down,
First afire then aflame/then a smoke trail to the ground.
E decided that the explosions were far too loud,
Covered his ears and laid down,
Kept saying he wanted to go home,
But we all came partly because of him,
Earlier on he had been so excited,
Couldn’t wait to see the fireworks,
Sometimes you get what you ask for,
Never realizing what it really entails...

full force

Up on the wall,
Gotta pump outta the stall,
Birdman doing his thang,
Bend them knees,
Pounce up that tranny,
Feel that smooth flow,
Slingshot out onto the flat,
Gain momentum for the next,
Board/legs/momentum forward.
Pump it pump it,
Deeper/higher/almost to coping,
Just a little bit more speed,
That’s all you really need,
Get a running start,
Bend don’t break,
Shut up and skate,
Up that wall,
Down that bank.
Fly over that hubba/twinkie/whateva,
Hit the tranny full force,
Carving the sweet corner of course,
Bank onto the flat,
Up another tranny,
Kickturn frontside/backside,
Whichever feels the best,
Feel time freeze just as you stall,
Half-way between a make and a free-fall.
Turn and face the flat,
Back down just like that,
So smooth so easy,
Adrenaline coursing through my veins,
Getting stoked about out little gains,
Started off a total newbie,
Wind through our hair,
Smiles on our faces,
Rolling without a single care.

mirror image?

Who’s that old guy/even older than me,
Standing over there with Rectors over his jeans,
I could hear his bearings from the parking lot,
Rusted to hell/wheels look about shot,
Let’s see if he’s an old-school shredder.
Oops/homie’s trying to drop-in,
On the bank? What’s wrong with him?,
Looking pretty sketchy/barely made it up the pyramid,
Pretty disappointing/that dude can’t skate worth chit,
What the hell is up with that?
He’s giving us old-timers a bad name,
See the kids laughing/that dude is so lame,
Now he’s trying to carve the round wall like me,
Barely made it up/this is too funny to believe,
Let’s talk to him and find out his story.
After several attempts I just gave up,
I think homie’s got a loose nut,
Just give him some space/let him do his thing,
A wannabe poser/false ideas desperately clinging,
One word answers/wouldn’t even make eye contact.
That dude could be me/trying hard not to judge,
Tried chit-chatting/homie just wouldn’t budge,
Maybe he figures he’s cooler than all the rest,
In some twisted reality/We’re all just pests,
And he was born to shred and carve.
Well my son/all I can say about that dude,
He’s a little strange/but let’s not be rude,
If he wants to skate with us that’s fine,
What’d I look like a year ago/just give him time,
And oh by the way/please wear your helmet.
I think he might be dealing with some demons,
Real or imagined/let’s not give him any reasons,
Maybe a head-injury back in the eighties,
Helmet-less vanity won over his safety,
Maybe homie is just plain weird/try not to hate,
He seems harmless/let him be and let’s go skate.