fate

I dressed up like an old gypsy woman,
and set out the crystal ball,
in front of the mirror.
And I said to myself,
"I see only darkness in your future young man.
every action will end in failure,
everything you want will be beyond your reach"
And I said,
"You must be reading someone else's fortune
I am smart and resourceful and even a little handsome"
And I replied
"These are all true,
but your heart will never believe it.
It will be your own hands and lips that will betray you,
like dumping seeds onto the fire."
I laughed at myself
"You are crazy, old hag"
"Yes I am." I replied

The Hiaku

Snowflake
six points
perfect before melting

Hiaku for you

Maple tree chapel
Ferns line the aisle
where is the bride?

smell of wet wool
Rain washes the window
The kiss lingers on my cheek

Glow of unseen moon
whirlwind of snow
fish below my feet

Rain on the rice
Sun breaking through clouds
Am I not loved?

Large flakes
Cover my tracks
Every path is new

Sun on the concrete
A man beside his bicycle
The chain has jumped

Bright sun
Low in the cold sky
Frost on dead grass

fire kissed leaves
signal the end of warmth
not enough time or space to complete every single little plan that I made and would have liked to complete.

Walk

No destination is needed on a night like tonight
only to tread the dark, but so un-dark streets
the distance goes by, not in miles
but in blocks, houses, sidewalk lines and steps
looking for nothing in particular, only everything
looking for peace of mind, quelling the legion
looking to share, to share words, food, booze, air, warmth, skin, a bed, a soul
I walk past lit and unlit homes
past the unlit shops full of shiny things I can't afford
when I walk , everything in my head shakes loose
and tumbles around inside my skull
life, death, sex, loneliness, the past, the future,
God, myself, The Large Hadron Collider and Bob Dylan.
And when my labyrinth is walked
I turn home to my bed with weary bones
and a heart as weary as when I left
If the world ends tomorrow, then tonight
I will walk, if nothing else, I can walk

The Inch (or perhaps more appropriately “An Exercise in Non-Hieratic Diction” or “Lets Settle This on the Dance Floor” or “I Think You're Cute, Now Excuse Me I'm Going to Go Vomit” or “The Poem With the Really Long Title” or “Thanks David, for Making me Sing” or ”Where Are You Going? Don't You Want to Hear More about Whatever the Crap I was Babbling on About” or “Wow, a Poem about Insecurity, How Completely Original” or “I was Probably Babbling on About Bikes, I Tend to do That, a Lot” or “I'm Guessing that Peeing my Pants is a Turn Off” or “Who Needs a Drink!”)

You'd think I was a cripple
by the way I twitch and struggle
to move that last inch
the inch that is the difference between near-by and close
how many times have I done this
a dozen
a hundred
If I move this inch, maybe I can sleep
tonight
and I'm not saying anything bad about you
you are a sodium vapor lamp
and I am a moth
but I have this problem
it makes me afraid
afraid of that last little inch
afraid that you might take it the wrong way
so I'm just going to sit here
Turn up that music
I want my soul blasted outta my skull
I like this song
so turn it up
TURN
IT
UP
if I can't hear myself think
then I can't over think this

The Spirits Who Counted in Binary

Radio station in my head plays sad country songs
But only a thin static radiates from my lips

Resisting that natural current, with all my power
impeding my capacity to charge into the fray

Pale Moon face for which my fickle affection for
waxes and wanes on a monthly basis

Eye contact telepathy, boring thought the smoky medium
southbound birds, door-bound fixations, bad omens

Filibustered Committee meets for drinks, no progress
deaf to their hearts, confused by their loins

An impotent short haired Samson, shears still in hand
no songs this time, who's the jack-ass now?

Bound by every fiber in my being, by my enemies
a shapely “8”, the head of a lark, no bark, all bite

Flagons containing truth, drained for the courage within
amidst the warrior brothers, I wait in paper armor

Do Your Part

I have a plan.
It involves you and me and the rest of our lives.
This is how I plan to carry it out.
I will be your friend.
I will be kind and conscientious and genuine.
I will wait for the opportune moment, and
I will let that moment pass.
We will part.
We will keep in touch for a time.
We will live our lives, unaffected by the other, and
We will remember each other fondly.
But you will never know how much I love you.
How often I have wished to tell you, but that would ruin everything.
You are perfectly imperfect, in your wizened innocence.
You are a padded sledgehammer to my chest
Your beauty is captivating and distracting.
But you linger, in my vision and in my heart.
I only ask you to do your part.
The one who got away needs to get away.
Is that so hard?