#758 on the wall

the pane in the mirror
too much for this obstacle named "today"
i see me, but i fight reflection
and its accompanying pain
i see the reflection, but refuse to see myself

#757 why do you write?

i write because i have something to say
i write because i have nothing to say
i write to find answers
i write to find questions
i write to brag to others
i write to humble myself
i write to understand
i write to confuse
i write to prove something
i write because i have nothing to prove
i write for the voiceless
i write for the shouters
i write to fill words onto paper
i write to purge words from my head
i write to be meaningful
i write to be indulgent
i write to invent new
i write to achieve routine
i write because i write
i write   i write   i write

#756 behind the goggles

his grief goes unnoticed
like a white man on a ski hill
but he's there
making his silent turns in the snow
making polite conversation on his chairlift

#755 jaws clenched

the vice grips my smile
holds in place
using tension
squeezes, into position
until
the handle
tightens

too far

#754 simplify

i cut back death, encouraging life
the more of the rot i cut
the more the green will grow

i stand back, admire the tree
feel inspired to do the same in my life

#753 banning balls

many boys turn flashlights into sabers and popsicle sticks into ninja stars
whether we want them to or not
and our newest response
banning balls in playgrounds
is a guarantee for aggression to be released elsewhere
somewhere less appropriate

#752 unhappy kings

we are unhappy kings
lives filled of everything
fulfilled by nothing
surrounded by various friends
emptiness our only constant companion
we own houses and yards
drink running water
that appears from our taps
cupboards full of more appliances than anyone needs
but if we bought a new cupboard
i'd fill it
if money is evil's root
then evil is a tree
and we pick and eat its fruit

#751 account balances

why you spend your smiles all over town
but save your frowns for home
i try to buy your kindness with deeds and treats
but you pay me insults and harsh words
i repaint the house and build an extension
and you notice how long the grass is getting
but every once in a while i get that million dollar smile
and think of verve singing their bittersweet symphony

#750 molasses cookies

i listen to a dead musician and wait for a pulchritudinous poem to pour forth
found that word on dictionary.com while procrastinating
the voice speaks of rail-cars and love and homecooked meals

i dump my own ingredients into a stainless steel bowl
1 cup of verbs
1/2 cup of nouns
1 T of adjectives
stir together and hope for the best

the song changes
a new band, peaking
riding the line between unknown and mainstream
deserving to be discovered
deserving to remain undiscovered to the molasses

#749 floozy

spring teased, with her halter-top, cold drink in hand, smell of charcoal in the air
let us think she was coming home with us
then at last call, i saw her back sneaking out the door
felt a chill in the night air
hours after the sun crouched into her hide-and-seek spot of choice,
behind the mountain
i went home to sleep it off
dreams of flip-flops and frisbees
but when i woke
the world outside my window
was a blank word document

#748 hurt

do not let the world get close to you
do not get close to yourself
walls and fences are human inventions,
for a reason
pain is a symptom of a too-close relationship
between the external and the internal
whether it be a dagger or a love

#747 quaecumque sunt vera

i wrote fiction four years ago
and now it's labeled as memory, non-fiction
i wrote and re-wrote until the scene turned real
and now i swear the cold night air met my warm breath
visible as white air
like childhood photos
writing fiction builds memories
truth is a small and slippery word
found under "t" in the dictionary

#746 grief

13 daisies and a pool of red
how will friday ever be the same again
i will live my days, an outlaw from the tyranny of happiness
my face will never feel tears again
cold and hard, i will not feel

#745 music industry vs. music

imagine if we only used what succeeded instantly
we'd all be two-finger typing on an a-z keyboard
underhand volleyball serving
and snowboarding wouldn't exist
just because you don't like it instantly, don't give up
maybe it's you
maybe you'll take a while to "get it"
or maybe it's the art
and it'll take a while to "get there"
so please
explore outside the top-40
nurture real music, real art

#744 fall

an apple tree
two apples at one outer edge
a small one on a lower branch
a bigger one above
the small one, looking up to the bigger, as with us
the small one shares a fear of the ground
and an impatience of being small
Small One, we all fall to the ground in our time, and we all have immense size in us
months later (and months wiser) the small one lets go and falls to the ground
decades later, in her spot on the ground
an apple tree

#743 time and tables

he eats though he's overfull
afraid of giving up that feeling associated with the privileged
but now, no elbows fight for space
no hands fought to win this morning's cereal prize
but soon

#742 wax-paper sandwich and dish-soap shampoo

i didn't know i was poor
i thought new clothes were showing off
i thought barber trips were wasteful
i didn't know i was poor
because no one told me
and when they finally did
i failed to believe them
i knew they weren't lying
i just thought they were wrong
i didn't know i was poor
because i wasn't

#741 did you hear the one about the caucasian, the middle-class male, and the well-educated businessman

did you hear the one about
the person who aimed for a cheap laugh
at an expensive price to someone or ones absent

did you hear the one about
the present victim who laughed
not out of humour
but shame and lack of self-worth
using a smile to hide the tears inside
a loud laugh to hide the soul's sobs

did you hear the one about
the segment of society overrepresented as the butt
of these ones,
even if they are
individually
clever and un-insulting

did you hear the one about the caucasian, the middle-class male, and the educated businessman
no... isn't that funny

#740 fourth period blues

the hammer that caresses my head
pounds out of my teenage speakers
the world watches me
while no one notices me
everything is colossal
because nothing matters
hold my soul until i'm 19 and wise
keep it safe, in a clean box

#739

what if i only had 738 ideas?

#738 august 18th

what will change
the bed will still be shared
just like the lives
oh sure, a name will change
but what will really change
he'll still love her
and vice versa
oh there will be some papers get signed
but what will really change
nothing?
no
something

#737 the blinking cursor

gives me first tracks on virgin white snow
a never-ending mountain
lets me choose when to call an end to my day
even allows night riding
and the next day:
new terrain and fresh new tracks
without lift lines
...so why, some days, is riding so hard

#736 pain today

coats of shadows and blood
thinned with lacrimal additive
on my bedroom walls
as i sit in bed
trying to remember
the last words i heard you speak

reality's stains will fade behind the tinted primer of memory
but until then
i absorb pain
in my own walls

#735 a down day

a decaying seed sits in my stomach
my only happy moments are false and fabricated
like the warmth from a fireplace-monitor
happiness is a lie i wake up with
resulting in the let-down of reality
have you ever felt so low you had to hurt your neck
to gaze up at the valley

#734 steep metal roof

our cozy house
(real estate speak for small)
wears a chef's hat
as the snow crystals collect and connect
forming bonds
but then
in one quick WHOOMPH!
the house is stripped of the hat
bald

#733 i am the tree, the forest is me

i'm lost in the general details
between the trees and the forest
detailed generalities have me lost
between the family tree and out-on-the-limb
i love my roots
am my roots
family stories flow through me, sap of my soul

#732 blues master

his voice and his guitar go together like old-time dance partners
knowing when to lead and when to follow
when to push and when to pull
playing to the other's strengths
pushing limits and having fun
he doesn't sing because he has to
he doesn't play guitar because he's told to
the two are like breathing for him
even when he's not singing and playing
he's singing and playing
like the moments between inhalations and exhalations,
it's still breathing

#731 fresh bedsheets

jealousy is a three syllable word that fills my today
i read the words of others
i face their accomplishment
quality, and trophies
jealousy is a noun that lives somewhere inside my ribs
a content prisoner of the me
a single part of speech
jealousy is a kite underwater
its reason for living forgotten
its existence ugly and embarrassing
jealousy is a bedsheet, fresh from the winter dryer
wrapping me in its warmth
lulling me to sleep, one lie for each dream
jealousy is the suit on the colour-blind single man
ridiculous and laughable to all
except the one who chose the suit for handsome
jealousy ends poems
a three syllable word
jealousy

#730 poetry as discipline

waiting for the right letters to drip from fingertips to keyboard keys
the writer curses his routine
questions his competence
and blames distraction
if ideas spawn ideas
why aren't there more of them
he's written infinite poems in his head and in his bed
but putting them to paper or screen
always seems like bad timing
and so they sit
dying
in his head and in his bead
unwritten and unshared
rotting