POEM: practice apocalypse

Posted 27 April, 2012 in Family, My poems, NaPoWriMo, Poetry

practice apocalypse

little boy
camo pants
Spidey socks
feathery hair
dirty nails
red cheeks
mixed teeth
front gap
deer shirt
legs crossed
on bed
killing zombies

27 April 2012
State College PA

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It’s National Poetry Writing Month! A poem a day, each day in April.

POEM: fatherhood

Posted 6 April, 2012 in Family, My poems, Poetry

fatherhood

the phone just isn’t enough
too many frequencies are lost
between the vocal chords
and the inner ear
cast by satellites and towers
into the atmosphere or outer space
bloodless plastic against the ear
is no substitute for a small warm palm
wrapped up in my fingers
or a kamikaze jump with a feral yell
from the couch onto my back
living in the magical future
it’s easy to think that a computer screen
and a tiny camera are the same as contact
but we’re not on different planets
just in different states
and the bus ride gets longer each time

6 April 2012
Brooklyn NY

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It’s National Poetry Writing Month! A poem a day, each day in April. I debated posting this one because of the content, but it’s where I’m at today.

POEM: Thanksgiving Day

Posted 24 November, 2011 in Family, My poems, Poetry

Listen to this poem using the player above.

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Thanksgiving Day

Prospect Ave rooftop
two sisters, one lover
endless blue sky
iced tea and cigarettes
next roof over pigeons
gathered for the holiday

we laugh, hold hands
feel the sun on our faces
grateful for the morning
for bagels and cream cheese
for reunited families
for the laughter of children

half my heart is missing
the other half is here

POEM: words of wisdom

Posted 27 January, 2011 in Audio Poems, Family, My poems, Poetry

words of wisdom

“it’s only a paper moon”

no, that’s not what he’d say

“you’ve got to take care
of your family first”

is that it? or maybe

“keep your head down
and get a separate room
at the end of the hall”

it’s not as if all his sayings
were collected in a book
this is a guy, after all,
who was famous for not talking

I wish he were here now
because I’m at the bottom
and can’t figure out what to do
I think he’d be a good one to ask

we used to spend most of our time
talking about big bands
or the latest episode of Lawrence Welk

I remembered all the names of the Welk people
even though, truth be told, I’d only seen the show
a few times

but I always knew I could get him talking
if the subject were Pete Fountain
or the Glen Gray band

he took me to my first concert
Pete Fountain and Al Hirt
at The Shell in Canandaigua

two guys from New Orleans on stage
two guys from Pittsfield, Massachusetts
in the audience, swinging

when I wake up, the first things I see
remind me of him: a purple moon,
a vase of flowers, a Parisian riverside

and out here in the living room
another of his paintings
and a cross-stitch of my first initial

did he ever have a long night when he doubted?
when he couldn’t pay the rent and the food
was running out and it was all too much?

he was from a different era, when men
didn’t talk about those kinds of things
they were just expected to hold up their end

he worked at the same place for 48 years
never took a sick day — not one
my resume looks like the classified ads

in later years I heard some rumblings
he was stubborn, his weapon was silence
and I guess that may have been true

I never saw it, though
he was who I wanted to be
a class act

someone called me that yesterday
“a class act”
but I can’t see it

I’d like to be sitting in the passenger seat
of one of the endless parade of white cars
listening to WYLF (the “music of your life”)

maybe he’s driving me to my clarinet lesson
or he and Grandma are taking me to Burger King
or over to their apartment for dinner

Ring Dings and a block of Velveeta in the fridge
potato-chip chicken and mini cheesecakes
broccoli covered in cheese and Ritz crackers

and that old glass coffee mug with the recipe
for Irish coffee on the side, mostly whiskey
with some coffee to take the curse off it

even though by that time neither of them drank
but they always had liquor in the credenza
in case a mixer broke out / it never did

god what I’d give right now to go over there
to explain all this and how it all happened
and ask him to forgive me and to tell me

“I love you and you’ll be OK”

is that what he’d say?

stone #16

Posted 16 January, 2011 in aros, Audio Poems, Family, My poems, Poetry, Stones

Listen using the player above.

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his small hand in mine
“I love you, Dada”
my arm around his shoulders
“I love you, too”

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part of a river of stones

stone #15

Posted 15 January, 2011 in aros, Family, My poems, Poetry, Politics & Activism, Stones

Listen using the player above.

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Justice for all, service to others and a love that liberates people. — Tavis Smiley’s summary of Martin Luther King’s philosophy.

I have a dream, too
and on the cold days I fear
that a dream is all it will ever be

but when my boys are playing
laughing in the sun-warmed yard
I am hopeful for our future

/ / /

part of a river of stones

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