lunar eclipse

it's the only shadow i've ever seen
that has made me gasp in awe.

it's the only time i've ever been
the ant looking into the maw.

it's the only life i've ever lived,
and i'll be damned if my heart is never
that big.

a personal study

this stanza does not have four lines,
but only because i thought about it.
who wouldn't?
i couldn't write something original unless
you were there by my side,
reminding me that i should have ideals.

and this one will rhyme,
because i finally have the time,
to think things out and i'm not sore...
but look - this one has four.

time for some
line breaks.
i guess nothing
can be
totally original,
unless you're totally deluded.
but that's fine.

would you know that i was happy from the ending
of the last stanza of each poem?
i guess so.
you could sniff out a failure from a million miles away.

II: dad

well, here we are again.
only this time i'm rounding corners
and taking back
what i never knew i had.

i go past the rows of mourners,
and i rake the sand,
but how can i be sad?
i'll just back to the motel and pack.

i've left my eternal brand -
but i'm never the foreigner,
'cause i'm finally on track,
thinking this were never really this bad.

mom

gas, brake, clutch.
let's put this baby into reverse
and then many we'll break the curse -
travel 'cross the country, learning and such.

drive, park, first.
i've reached for the dreams
but nothing's ever as it seems,
and as for me, i'm prepared for the worst.

it wouldn't do any good to say i wish i were far away,
would it?

how we gonna pay...?

welcome to america,
where the howling goes through dawn
until the wolves all stop and the homeless start
and we wonder where we've gone.

ridden with disease,
my conscious fights to find a spark
to ignite the raw and dangerous feel that
comforts us in the dark.

but now and then
something shoots this way
and pierces through the shield,
singing,
sighing,
crying,
dying,
let's hear what we have to say.

and the smoke clears....

ashes, ashes
we
all
fall
down.

a final marriage of dreams and imagery before i start another day.

snow lined streets -
parapets of powder soft beneath my feet.
if it weren't for the cold,
i'd forget that i was living
and i'd walk off into nowhere
and finally start giving.