Poem-A-Day: Day 169

Maintain

Work today,
every day,
something always happening,
happening,
something,
every day,
but nothing ever really happens,
routine maintenance,
fixing shit,
the refrigerator is running,
nobody can catch it,
maintain,
work to maintain the day,
every day
is work.

Poem-A-Day: Day 168

Painting Rooms

Swell and crawl,
scrawling golden years;
paint across the walls
in jarring lightning bolt shapes,
crooked tears that seem to go nowhere
but over, down, up, and across
in every direction
with no direction,
screaming thunderous booms
in a pattern representing a chess board,
bored with playing games
and pushing check
when the mate has passed
the king for pawn.

Poem-A-Day: Day 167

Human Wasteland

Poem-A-Day: Day 166

Hide-and-Secret

Somewhere there are secrets.

They hide like children
giggling behind closed doors
hoping to be discovered.

They hide for a purpose;
a game of counting moments in the dark
contemplating the successes
of one closet over the other.

Secrets hide,
not out of fear,
but out of fun;

dark shadows whispering within the linens.

Poem-A-Day: Day 165

Beach Bum

I touched the sky today
for a second
before the sun clipped my wings
and sent me back towards
the fiery beach.

I saw the sand coming
each grain
magnified one thousand times
until they looked like boulders,
so I braced for impact.

I didn’t die at all, no blood,
not a drop was shed
on the soft yellow boulders
caressing my body
like the hands of saviors.

I touched the sky,
and for a moment
I saw the world in a different way
as it came screaming toward me
with its mouth wide open.

Poem-A-Day: Day 164

Silence of the Lambs

Silence,
wicked
like burning in eardrum machines
pounding out the same repetitive beat:

"You are
but can't be
not
no
yes
you are"

Listening,
wickedly
to the silence burning holistic medicine
into gray matter, nothing matters:

"I am
but not being
not
no
yes
I am"

Hearing,
hurdling
far past and among the silent beckon
of waste that has become the landscape:

"My brand
but not me
not
no
yes
My lamb"

Poem-A-Day: Day 163

Fatery

Serendipity
My grievous crime of knowing
False resolve in chance