Category Archives: Poetry

Writer’s Log: 1885 Pedalin’

Back when I used to ride a street bike through the hills of Marin County.

Pedalin’

I pedaled long,
barbed fence after fence raced my fleeting form.
I pedaled smooth,
muscled metronome, one revolution per second.
I pedaled steep,
shady redwoods grew at impossible angles on the mountain side.
I pedaled quick,
a blue Mercedes grazed my left hip.
I pedaled hard,
salty beads slid down from my armpits and temples.

I coasted.

Black and yellow bees, large enough to hurt,
buzzed at my head.
Thin strands of weeds, tanned in the summer sun
whipped at my ankles.
Flitting brown sparrows, trim ones with sleek profiles,
air danced at my side.
Heady scented wind, warm but touched with ocean mist,
streamed into my lungs.

I pedaled slow,
cool sweat chilled the nape of my neck.
I pedaled on,
under bolls of clouds hanging listless in an achingly blue sky.

I stopped.
I had reached the cheese factory and it was time for lunch.
I ate.
I pedaled home.


Writer’s Log: 1885 Floatin’

Back when I used to strum a 6 string…
Chords are:
E then A (repeat), Chorus is B7, A, and E, then B7 — E

Floatin’

Lazy we’re layin’, an afternoon snooze.
Cast the balloon, our inflatable cruise,
begins with a whisper, the touching of lips;
sparkling smiles that launch fantasy ships.

Floatin’, floatin’ with you,
Floatin’, stayin’ next to you.

Lift me up, and set me on high.
Sift down a kiss, from a piercing blue sky.
Nudge me to moving, coasting on clouds,
shout to the wind, our love bright and loud.

Floatin’, floatin’ with you,
Floatin’, keeping close to you.

Sailing with seagulls, drifting a breeze,
a feather traced, along taboo a tease.
Weightless we hang, in a passion filled fever,
Dreamin’ together, ’cause never I’ll leave her.

Floatin’, floatin’ with you,
floatin’, holdin’ onto you.

Floatin’, lovin’ with you,
floatin’, lovin’ always you.

 

 


Writer’s Log: 1884 PBBFH

This is a bit I wrote at the end of a vicious emotional extraction, e.g. breakup, way back in my mid-twenties.

PBBFH = Psychotic Blond Bitch From Hell

~~~

Twilight finds me dyin’
from the daggers thrown by you.
Insinuation, lies, deceit
flowin’ blood, I’ve paid my dues.

I see a tear fall from a dark eye
shattering, it strikes the stone.
Your hands reach out to touch me
but grab the knife and twist it home.

The pain has spread, but all pain fades
memories of you are just a shade
of a need I licked, a fix I’ve kicked;
my thoughts of life no longer stick
on your love of jealous jade.

I’ve pulled the knife, healed my wounds
I smile and tilt my chin.
I check the blade, the one you picked
a narrow minded tongue of tin.

A dagger dull to a heart like mine.
I trace the scar and sure enough I find,
that I was only nicked.


I am Crow

I am Crow.

Like you, I am Omnivore.

Like you, I wonder at the Universe.

I plan and scheme and take what I can, when I can.

I dance and dodge from your wheels, your threats.

Still I survive. I cock my head and caw at your fist in the air.

But I take no notice of you. Opportunity is all you provide, seldom and resentful.

You attempt your deceits while I fly from you and all you pretend to control.

I laugh, I cry, I lament my losses, my failures.

Yet I can spread my wings and lift into the wind, soaring out of your reach, your sight.

While you languish, trapped, chained to the ground.

I am Crow.

You will never be Crow.


I’m a poet, don’t you know it.

Poetry that doesn’t rhyme,
Taps my brain, takes too much time,
To figure out the weird, strange beat,
The double meaning, the awkward mete,
I’d rather just go read some tweets.

~~~

I work too hard, all damn day,
writing code, beyond dismay.
So complex, it sucks me dry,
that in the end, my only cry,
simplicity.

To read warped thoughts, of twisted nuance,
lead me here, or drag me there, once,
I fathom the layered meaning,
I’ll gain the insight, glowing, gleaming, an
atrocity.

Give me simple, give me plain,
feed me pablum, my mind is drained.
Don’t make me work your hidden message,
sad similes and allusions presage a,
monstrosity.


Transitory associations

If you’ve have had a number of jobs in your life, you’ll understand that, although some of those friendships you developed at prior workplaces may linger, if you don’t share some fundamental feature of human understanding — they’ll probably fade.

The same goes for neighbors you’ve had as you’ve moved your body around the world. As well as friendships you’ve had in high school or college. People come and go in your life, some last a day, some a year and some much longer.

Perhaps the hardest part of friendship is letting go.

I had a dear friend in high school. My only friend in high school, really. We played hookie together, were on the same sports team (rifle team) and worked the same strange summer job our 17th and 18th years (running a blueberry farm in Frankford, Delaware). We went our separate ways our last September and lost touch but for a faint spiderweb tendril that joined us and wavered in the wind every so often. Strangely, we got married the same calendar day, and married a woman of the same name, all unbeknownst to each other.

He committed suicide a few years ago. I have never learned why he didn’t bother to say goodbye. I would have understood.

We ride this train and people step on and off our personal Pullman car. Yet in the end we pull into the station alone. Waving goodbye, along the way, to those who have ridden with us through the rough spots, the early track, the long lonely stretches — is hard.

But you get used to it and learn that people come and go. And that is just the way of it.

Friendships melt like winter snow and are followed by blossom-like faces of new acquaintances, who, if you’re lucky, may sing to you songs of the fresh season.

 

 


Wy’east in the West

WyEast

Wy’east lies dormant,
a Cascadian jewel.
Her fingers grasp the Trail.

Brothers to the north,
Sisters to the south,
atop a fault now frail.

Shining in the twilight,
shadows lean and leer,
at her blush of bare repose.

Her triggered temblor,
her wrath erupting,
onto Willamette greens below.