#643 heartwood

the life you see on the outside
is because something died on the inside
tears come easier with age
christmas is a time for heavy memories

#642 in dreams

like smoke gripped by fists
last night's dreams sneak through fingers
and a part of me says pay more attention
but here i sit, typing this poem
there is something to dreams
not always direct
but a way to meet the various characters in me
that make me, me
so now i have a notebook and pencil on the bedside table
ready to scribble clues to night-stories

#641 frech fries

we lie on the hungover living room floor
french fries on a cookie sheet
three on the hide-a-bed, one on each couch, and six on the floor
the room was hot and the smell was stale
in my mind i haul my body up
but it's just a dream
and movement in the waking world wait's until eleven

#640 adventitiously

i mix and rearrange letter-tiles
waiting for words and high-points to appear
but i've got all vowels
the tired tiles are against me
i'm tired of single-digit scores
and then
the tiles on the board
the tiles on my block
conspire with my fortune

#639 after the interview

now fate lies in the hands of another
i procrastinate Time
busying my life with chores used to being avoided
even my tupperware drawer is organized
then i checked to make sure the phone-jack was ok and the ringer was turned on
still un-still, i wait

#638 beer caps and broken glass

eyes closed
hips move
music pumps over the bar floor
for now they forget
how boring their lives are

#637 in the night

sleep crowds my brain
dream-visions swim from ear-to-ear
familiar objects and common people
in new and uncommon ways
the pillow adjusted my brains reality
twisted up in the blanket
plays out as a hostage-taking
and real or not, it's real

#636 "porn speaks to its splintered legions"

what is the difference between a writer and a novel writer
the audience's ratio of reading to thinking?
what is the role of the poet
to introduce the mundane to the universal?
for whom/what does a poet write
self, reader, the work, the craft?

#635 bumblebees vs rats

in his head
bumblebees fight against rats
he is the man you avoid eye contact
something is switched inside his head
and then life events compounded the complication
and now he staggers by storefronts
cursing Michael and the other angels

he's smart
he knows his head is not right
and he's adjusted his life to avoid overthinking truths
and sometimes he's fine
but he experiments, learning how society treats its least fortunate members
and how do you stay sane
when you learn the answer

#634 a blob in the driveway

eye level snowbanks fill the middles of the streets
logical according to city hall thinking
walking is faster than driving
because the car is a buried blob of virgin white
and how will you get the snowbrush from the backseat
without snow spilling onto the seat
a challenge for another time

#633 a watched pot

i can see the bubbles rising to the top
from the stainless steel bottom
before now, boredom is all there was to see
these few bubbles are turning to more
and steam
anticipation of the surface breaking
of a rolling boil
a recycled waterfall gone mad

#632 tall snowbanks

i am indoors
under my heavy blanket, with my matching thoughts
cozy as the single-shovel path up to the red door
illuminated by a single lantern-style light
my mug is in the cupboard
but no worry
hot chocolate is a state of mind

#631 40+cm

friends fall in and out of life like seasons
i stand in snow up to my waist, imagining the yard in summer
i love all my friends and all the seasons
it's the time between seasons, that bullies my soul
cold and wet and sloppy outside
i stay inside in a house full of my own thoughts
but then spring comes, time for yards and gardens
and summer, play and late days
fall, hiking and reflection
winter, diving in snow banks

#630 a thank-you to fanatics and extremists

in a world full of fence-sitting and compromising and political correctness
where mediocrity is the norm
and passion is a word heard more often for soap operas than seen in life
change would be even slower without you
i envy your energy and passion
your absence of doubt in distinguishing wrong from right
i disagree with most of your actions
but in your conviction and effort, there are lessons for us all
in human potential

#629 volume control

behind a teenage door, she loses herself inside her earbuds
all the teachers and the parents and the rules
unheard for a moment
overpowered by music
the modern day cabin in the woods
a place of refuge, away from it all

from the latest heavy metal
to matt anderson's acoustic version of the boss
her soul's on fire inside her with a bad desire
young enough to wonder if she can change the world
old enough to know daddy can't fix everything

between songs

the deafening sound of the world failing
she turns up the volume

#628 mothers and daughters

we're both outside for fresh air
i never met him before
but we end up chatting
a girl walks by
tall, well-dressed, confident
the click of her high-heels fades ahead

he grins at me, i'd tap that for sure, wouldn't you?
i look at him
he waits for a response
sure, i'd tap "that"
i'd tap that four times
except i wouldn't call her "that"
i'd call her "her"
as a compliment
because she's part of the half of our race
usually responsible for mothering and nurturing
the beautiful gender
and each one of them is unique
some are tough and some are mean and some are "plump"
and as a gender, beautiful

i'd tap her alright
i'd tap her on the shoulder and thank her for being a beautiful confident woman
an inspiration to young girls around her
a weight i don't understand

i'd tap her brain for a while and find out what she thinks
of this society that disrespects her, objectifies her, under-appreciates her
and while she was answering, i'd bite my lip, until it bled
so i wouldn't be a typical, but unnoticed thing in our society
a man interrupting a woman

i'd tap into her knowledge as a confident-looking woman
in a world that is so often against her
in a world that jams her feet into unhealthy, high-heels
so she can fit into what we call "beautiful"
but while fashions come and go
women persevere
oh you mean, would i have sex with her
no
i wouldn't
because i found a woman who is special to me among them
and while i find the girl you're talking about physically attractive, i don't know her
and sex with her would risk the best things i have in my life
no
i would have to not like myself very much, to have sex with her
because i have a beautiful woman in my life

i want to say all this, but i don't
instead, the most i can say is nothing

#627 x&y

i am in a foreign land
where i misunderstand everything
the harder i try
the more i offend the locals
the language, the traditions, the expectations
using the washroom, cooking supper, laying down
all hazards
i seek to understand
not to offend
but i must relax soon
the human body was not meant for a perpetual state of fear
or maybe it was

#626 the dog can wait

he ignores the dog barking
(referred to as "the doorbell")
turning perspiration into inspiration
knowing that the Perspiration-Inspiration Trail
is not a loop, but an out and back
that he will do everyday
and just as the hiker's muscles will improve
grow defined and strong
so will his sentences
and the fresh air of the everyday walk
breathes health into his mental well-being
puffing up the needle on his happiness scale

#625 "hold it high"

more than fashion
more than red plastic
a poppy is a symbol of all that we have and take for granted
worn over the left chest, the heart
a poppy is dead ancestors we never knew
a poppy is a thank you for our fortunate place in time and geography
a thank you to anyone serving in our military, then and now and ever

#624 octogenarians

like a child's teddy forgotten
familiar turns to old, used up
our elders sit on shelves for show
useless
no reason to wake up
lack of purpose pushes them back to childhood
where faces change generations
and generations change faces
and they find their own teddies

#623 fourth stair from the bottom

in a house full of
visitors and brothers and sisters and tv's and parents and more
where he shared a room with two more
but there was one spot
that became a room when he sat
a room away from it all
where the world forgot about him
where he could see no one and hear everyone
where he could observe, unbothered

#622 sometimes, the first symptom is death

entering the last class of the day, he smiles
says hi to his friends and takes his seat
after school, he says goodbye and walks home
writes a note and leaves it on the kitchen table for his mom
then he goes to his parents closet
pulls out the rifle

#621 easier said

stay ahead of Fear
let it push you

tackle fears ahead of Fear
so Fear's efforts will help you

if Fear was a train
sit on the cowcatcher

when Fear does get ahead of you
change tracks

aim at another fear
while Fear visits the first one

manipulate Fear, he's a jerk that deserves it
welcome Fear, he can offer help

Fear is a neon sign flashing,
Opportunity

#620 stunted carrots

outside, rain falls like rain
inside, the writer struggles like a struggling writer
unique ideas hide like similes
then, a phrase as fresh as the taste of grit from a stunted garden carrot
and the writing bursts, like a paper-bag green tomato turned red

he wonders now, looking up to the window, if the frost didn't kill everything worthwhile
if the harvest isn't finished
if he isn't watering a dead garden
and outside, the rain falls like rain
inside, the write struggles like a struggling writer

#619 hour time together

the clock's tic pulls my attention
first my ear, then my eye, then my thoughts

she is the second hand, i am the minute
she charges around, lapping me 60 times an hour
my cautious, stealth pace

and as we do our our life
as we eat our suppers, check-mark our to-do lists, answer our phones
the hour hand, unnoticed advancement in any one glance
speeds in its unnoticeable march
in its war against Forever

#618 pink pearl

Touching the delete key using the soft end of the eraser saying that was my fault

These are not failures

but choices toward improvement

toward leaving the world a better place than what you found it

These are small successes, single stitches and single rows in the afghan of bigger successes

Use your eraser

And do not hide your erasing, curled behind your other arm, hovered over by your self-conscious body

Let people see you rubbing the beautiful pink rubber along the potential-filled

#617 give me music, give me words

listening to a new song, my mind is occupied
by sound and by lyric and by the combination
there is beat
and there is a voice beaten by experience
the voice speaks more than words
tension and release
an up and a down
a building, a crescendo
a sense of closure
whether a door slammed
or a light dimming
and those seconds of silence
after the sound, but part of the music

#616 manufactured moments

photos run through a field
wondering when they lost purpose
meaning is forgotten a word in a dead language
they save screens but not specialness of moments
zip and 'shop
cut and crop

#615 lazzzzy

so easy to skip
go to bed
so tired
just one day
soo tired

#614 no green bananas for Ida, please

he prolongs his bath
procrastinating what comes next
in the room down the hall is his mother, Ida
you don't know her

he stares at a bubble
knowing he will have to help her go to the bathroom
watch her cry as she realizes, again
you're my son, not my father

he unplugs the tub and rises, as slow as his mother
reaches for a towel for his naked body
watching the bubble
listening to the gurgle and swirl
water circling drain