Diner Haiku #7

if i got no soul
this cigarette smoke's as good
a sub as any

Diner Haiku #6

this is a homeless
poem, wandrin' pages for
straight lines and edges

Diner Haiku #5

what else can i write
with too much caffeine, too few
syllables left, and

Diner Haiku #4

the storm clouds they are
a' brewin, and all we got
are umbrella dreams

Diner Haiku #3

she blows cigarette
smoke, like a volcano just
after lava bursts

Diner Haiku #2

eagles only soar
as high and noble as the
flag poles they rest on

Diner Haiku #1

orange is never
as innocent as yellow
or lusty as red

I never thanked you for holding me last night

You started talking about one thing,
The rent that was due and your roommate
Who once again couldn’t pay their share because
“Hey man, I covered you at last week’s Battle of the Bands, remember?”

You then realized that you would have to
Tell your father about the rent, which
He would yell at you for hours about
Responsibility, about standing up for yourself,

About not letting people take advantage of you
Even though sometimes the only way
To really know that is to take those chances.

The night ended with you crying
About how all this reminds you
That your mom isn’t there anymore
And that you really are alone. I held
Onto you, kissing you intermittently

Between tears to let you know that
It would all be okay, without actually
Saying “It will all be okay,”
Because no one wants to hear that
When it just isn’t okay.

You called me today, two days after that night,
Thanking me for holding you as you cried,
Not knowing that this morning I woke up
Feeling unsure about myself,
Because last night we drove in silence

And had to resort to static radio for solace.
I started to wonder if I was treating you right,
Or treating any relationship with any person right, or
If I’m leading the life I’m supposed to lead
And not just mucking through dead air

Waiting in despair and desperation
Until your phone call,
Thanking me,
And letting me know
That I got something right.

Tennessee Dusk

Nights were filled with
Liquor-fueled drives
Careening across that
Tennessean landscape
Whose charming sun and
Stars at dusk were normally
Hidden behind the clouds
Of Jersey City skylines.

Mornings were filled with
Passionate hangovers
And the lust for what that
Day could bring us;
We would just shut our
Eyes off long enough
To forget that such a
Word as regret existed.

We took many chances
Throughout those rock n
Roll Tennessean nights,
Hoping the gods would
Invoke good luck on us
And getting a little bit of it
When we least expected it.

It was only a matter of time,

Even the gods run out of luck,

And we are left to pick up the

Pieces of what we won and lost,

Hoping to even out in the end.

Youth Laced Courage

bring me back

to the Highland

Grove community pool
where Aunt Rosie
would take us,
where the rocks

jutted out just

below the sand
that we dove

through to hit
the volley ball

for one more

chance to win,
where we would
sink below the
water and brave
the very limits
of Life Itself

just to see

which of us

could do it,
where we never
dreaded about cutting

our feet on

the dirt hills
and rusty fences

because the ice
cream truck’s striking

bells instilled courage

in our hearts.

bring me back

to when we

rode our bicycles

down Oakly Hill
without helmets so

we could actually

feel the wind

on our faces,

as the gods

watched and laughed
when we landed
hard.

personally, i love the shapes of poems
orbs revolving a great fiery truth

weightless and grave, they never quite touch it
if they did they'd incinerate

who can resist it?
who doesn't love physics?

the world caught fire and burned down here
the air, rich with white ash, ripens
the clean earth sears

We argued about words
you said that words
come from
dictionaries
that that is
what they mean,
that to be
"prejudice" was
worse than being
"racist"
That prejudice people
judge other people
and that racist people
are simply aware of
racial issues.

But I argued that words
don't come from dictionaries
but from people's mouths
and then they enter dictionaries
and to be a racist
was a lot worse
than being prejudice
maybe its that hard "st"
sound at the end
the sudden stop of the word
but being prejudice
flows and sounds
more official
like some political
position
or a religious movement
that woin't go away

I write in three places
my car
in class
and at readings
One when I'm
traveling at 60 mph
one when I'm
infecting minds
the third when my
mind gets infected

you always carried a pen
and that was really important to me
Thanks for carrying
pens for me
I don't think they
were for me
but thank you

Form doesn't matter
sonnets, freeverse
it doesn't matter at all
all that matters
is getting that
written word
from my brain
to some page
to my mouth
to your ears
to your brain
form doesn't matter
rhyme scheme doesn't
matter
iambic pentameter
doesn't matter
communication is
all that matters
in poetry
in music
in paintings
in anything really

Sometimes I wonder

when you storm out the door

out of control

steaming and screaming like a boiling tea pot

that you're getting your gun

do you really have one?

are you really going to get it

and are you frustrated enough

to place it between my eyes upon return

and tell me how much you love me

while your pulling the trigger?....

Art is an enduranace sport.
This far into autumn, the cherry tree still takes me apart.

I am warm, red tipped
Though the world thins, the birds too busy for metaphors.

I keep hurling devotions, crying holy cries
To the whitenening sky, the coming nothing.

on some bright morning
they'll find me
staring blank
and cold
finally at ease
finally smiling
off to happier times
waiting for the white stones
to pile higher than black ones
or seeing through the dream
and traveling on
down narrow path
through valley streams
and mountain steam

on some bright morning
I'll find you
gone from this world
on to the next
hoping those white stones
are piled high
prayin' you see through
the dream of that devil
death god
and leavin' you
two silver dollars
kiss your vessel
and see you once again
on the far shore

Sometimes, I don't get any sleep-
but I never stop dreaming.