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What Matters v2.xsomething or another

Something broken
isn’t really

Matter is a constant
It only changes
into something else

Tennis shoes
Sheet metal

Given this reasoning
the haircut you had
when you were nine

(Kicking and screaming
quieted only by first
threat of extreme violence
and ultimately
ice cream)

may now be
a rifle barrel
a puddle

You reject the
haircut theory

We talk of how
Ill-advised kisses become
failed relationships

Considered vows
thoughtless afterthoughts

and spittle are not

Trust exists
until we think
we know better

(the maddened passion
of drunken nights
stretch into months
a reality
of what
do I do now)

We cringe
at each others

sinful admissions
redeemed with
knowing smiles

We laugh and discuss
what we would like to be
when we are dead and gone.

Our hands touch
fingers and lips meet
move into each other



[The Listserve] “You Will Hang” and Other Things you don’t want to hear on a Saturday Afternoon

(Brief note- I have received over 150 350 responses already (within 36 hours) from people around the world so far in support of my short piece and it’s message and I am floored. I will write more after the NATO/G8 events- I am far too emotional right now to do so. Thank you all you lovely people <3 ) [The Listserve] "You Will Hang" and Other Things you don't want to hear on a Saturday Afternoon In 1987, I was at a civil rights march in Cumming, GA (Brotherhood March II). I was grabbed by a coordinator towards the end- I was told to flank the woman next to me who was with a child in a stroller; there were people on the ridge next to us throwing rocks and bottles and screaming obscenities. As I tried to turn my body into a shield I directly faced these people screaming the most hateful and violent words I have ever heard uttered. I thought I had understood racism and prejudice. I understood nothing. I was becoming enraged. I wanted to fight back. As I began looking for a rock or anything, a chant was growing in the stream of marchers; I expected a confrontation until I heard what they were chanting. To fight the shouts of "Nigger Lovers" and "You will Hang" was a chant of "We Love You" in return. I didn't understand. How can people met with lifelong hatred and discrimination act in return with Love? In the face of people threatening to kill you, they reply with "I Love You". I broke inside. I collapsed. The people around me grabbed me, pulled me up and helped me to my feet. I heard the words beside me "It's okay brother, I have you" and I regained my footing and made it to the end. There is a picture of me sitting on a curb shortly afterward looking exhausted and dazed. 25 years later I am still exhausted and dazed. I try to inform everything I do in my life with this experience- the morals I raised my three amazing daughters with, how I still to this day try to make changes in this ever-broken world of ours. There are so many awful things that humans do to each other. I truly believe they can only be resolved with a genuine love and caring for each other. Unequivocally, everyone should have the same opportunity to equal treatment under law, clean food and water, safe housing, health care and good education. And mutual respect. I have not ever heard a single argument to lead me to believe anything other than this. This is the underlying theme of the Occupy Movement. It's about everything really. But most of all, it's about love and respect for us all. Email me if you want to read some of my poems. Much Love and Respect to you all


Ill Fitted Glass

Ill fitted glass
in frames of disrepair
looking inward
I find the warp and wobble
of old panes soothing

a moonish hazy view
of CDs no longer played
yellow duck boots in the corner
dusty immovable
next to the green couch
my side wearing thinner

I turn in circles
no matter when I stop
all I’ve done
is faced
another direction

but I was already
where I wanted to be

I can’t touch you anymore
can’t see my smile
in the reflection
of your glasses

when you laughed

I’d forget to breathe

Comments (1)

Something Broken

Something broken
Isn’t really

Matter is a constant
It does not disappear
It only changes
Into something else

Raspberry jam
Tennis shoes
Waffle Irons

Given this reasoning
The haircut you had
When you were nine

Kicking and screaming
Quieted only by first
Threat of extreme violence
And ultimately
Ice cream
May now be part
Of your neighbors Jet Skis

We look at each other
As we talk
Of serious things
Matters of substance
And of consequence

We are broken

Ill-advised kisses become
Failed relationships
Money slips
From check to change
Screams and spittle
Are not apologies

Trust is a commodity
Traded secretly
For comfort
Dubious security
Mostly steady meals
Until its liquidity
Runs dry

Frozen assets
Heated retreat

We cringe
At each others
of sanity
sinful admissions
redeemed with
a knowing smile

Our sadness becomes
Blueberry Cupcakes

We lick the icing
Pick the crumbs
Off each others shirts

what we’d like to be
when we
are dead and gone.


Do Not Like

I do not like
when you are angry with me
chastising, scolding, lips flared
hand on your hip
shifting stance side to side

I love it.


Art Gish

Art Gish died today
This beautiful man
of peace and thoughtfulness
of unending patience and bravery.
He practiced his beliefs boldly
and intensely
without ever shouting or belittling.
Coaching young stoners on non-violent protest
Defying Israeli tanks, a canon barrel at his face
he taught to find the good, the humanity in every situation
And that there can be no peace without a conversation.

Art Gish died today
This beautiful man
A man of Love and Peace
When his tractor rolled on him
and caught fire, pinned in the blaze

God is a mean-spirited fucker.


A Wick, A Wisp (v.3)

do you remember how
we used to just lie there
smiling thinking grinning
I could smell your thoughts
you tasted like

curled away by a slick breeze
icicles feathering across
a vast chasm

a chance a night
a cry a note
a wick a wisp

a sigh
a deep black

a touch
a touch

I close my eyes and jump

and there you are




the cigarette that tastes best

the cigarette that tastes best
is the one that you will never have again

at 1 am
by the quarry lake’s edge
naked and laughing and still slightly buzzed
she says “I would have drowned if it weren’t for you”
I tell her I was just happy to her body against mine
whatever the reason

the moonlight
my friends
finding their clothes
the black warm water
calling out
instead I run up to a car
since I cant find my lighter
and startle a couple whose tongues
are down each others throat
“you’re naked”
“I’m jonesing really bad- you have a light?”
I take a deep drag, thank them and snake into my jeans
exhale deeply as I climb into my westfalia
and drive into the night

the entire universe and everything that ever could be possible
in the dark
ahead of me.



when I grow up
I’d like to be president
or lao tsu
or aristophanes

actually all three
would fucking rock

I am so much less than
I had hoped to be

and I can watch every minute wasted
detracting from greatness
from changing minds
and creating a belief
that will carry humanity forward
into the light
away from the dark
and depravity and violence
thats makes me want to spit

I look at the white page
blank and desolate
it mocks me
I let it mock me
I let it make me fail
I am paralyzed
I am not as smart as I know I am
would it to be so
it’s not

I succumb to knowing
that within a generation
two if I’m lucky
my words
these words too
will be dust
and pollution in a landfill;
what is the half-life of hard drives?

I’ve done good things for people
and really shitty things to others
I have friends
who make me laugh and be rude
my children love me
and are turning into fabulous grown human beings
more than I could have ever hoped

some days
some nights
some mornings

it’s just enough


I writed a song!


i couldn’t find my way to you
I didnt know what else to do
and once again
none of that is true

I dont know what is wrong with me
I keep thinking I want to be free
but I am trapped
by myself

Why can’t it just be wonderful?
Why isn’t it already wonderful
Haven’t we done everything
we’re supposed to do?

Why can’t it just be wonderful?
Why isn’t it already wonderful?
After all
It’s only me and you

You look at me with such contempt
I’ve been so crazy I’ve hardly slept
I wasn’t trying to do
anything at all

A thousand possibilities
A million different realities
I can’t explain
I just need to connect

And I bring it down
I always bring it down
It’s never enough
It’s never right
It doesn’t have to be
It doesn’t have to be
It’s okay
It’s okay
It doesn’t have to be
Please tell me it doesn’t have to be

There’s so much more out there
there’s so much we have right here
what is it
that makes that so wrong

I dont know what else to say
I wish we could find a way
to a place
A place that works

Why can’t it just be wonderful?
Why isn’t it already wonderful?
why does it have to be
so fucking hard

Why can’t it just be wonderful?
Why isn’t it already wonderful?
why is it always
so fucking hard

Why can’t it just be wonderful?
Why isn’t it already wonderful?