Manufactured Expectations

As Kipper and his friend,
Face ghouls of dark woods,
My child, living in that world and this one,
Me, not doing what would,

Place me in yet another world, not here,
Lying on kitchen floors,
Anxious for being unsought, childishly,
Instantly questioning what it's all for.

But that is all part of the adventure,
The risk of being you,
Tools don't have problems of identity,
Defined by what they do.

Not what they want,
One day can do so much.
It shows you how fast you can be alone.
How far away things seem without your touch.

Investigative Poetry

Can this age really be,
One in which poetry,
Helps lead the way to social consciousness?
A possibility.

What is it, but a new way to express,
With the words that we all use everyday,
Arranged to open minds,
To show that our language keeps us at bay?

Ezra Pound and Alexandr Pushkin,
Both part of a movement,
With poets from every generation,
Blake, Ginsberg and Olson.

Something must break,
The world's need can be felt,
For a way to express what we know's wrong,
As our people starve and our icebergs melt.

We Are In Chains

People are not thinking,
Of their own welfare,
At least, not in any meaningful way.
They've been trained not to dare,

By a government that wants to control,
That's controlled by money,
That has a mind of its own. Don't you know,
The writings of Deleuze and Guattari?

And really, what kind of time do you have?
Both our school and work life,
Are structured to complete specific tasks,
Not think of human rights.

But if just one,
Person can shed the light,
In such a way that it is obvious,
Do not go gentle into that good night!

To Russia With Love

When I think about you,
My emotions are mixed,
The struggles you face seem to eclipse mine,
Yet, your culture's so rich,

Many days I spent with Dostoyevsky,
His words still touch my life,
I almost fought a Russian diplomat,
Flicking his nose at a party one night.

Like everyone, I'm sure you just exist,
Despite the state's actions,
Though knowing the acts of your president,
You must feel oppression.

So there it is,
You have been watching me,
Though I don't know what it is you're thinking,
And I am filled with curiosity.

Perspective

Perspective's a good thing,
To know where you're going,
And also how to get back when you're done,
If you want, (wink knowing),

Because the only way to understand,
This world where you find you,
Is to explore outside the boundaries,
In which you've found yourself accustomed to,

So, go ahead and scream a thousand 'no's,
Amidst colleagues and friends,
They'll probably try to save you from you,
But laud you in the end,

For bravery,
Against reality,
Not the one that offers infinite choice,
But the one given by society.

Impossible Escape

Let's take a vacation,

Don't matter where we go,

Somewhere with no responsibilities,

And there's no one we know,

Where I can see you in your bathing suit,

Relaxing in the sun,

I'll lie beside you and read you a book.

Should I tone down my imagination?

Somehow the world won't know where we are,

It will be iced-over.

Until we've spent a lifetime together,

Though we won't get older.

That's what I call,
A real life get-away.
What good is escaping reality,
If you carry it with you, anyway?

Passing the Torch

Many of my friends are,
Parents of my kid's friends,
From many backgrounds, political views,
And life intentions,

With no connection to my own desires,
Or dreams of my youth.
I don't exist as a person, no more.
My art projects are of no further use.

All focus is on my children's future,
On the art that they make,
Being careful not to impose my yen,
And the way I create.

I don't exist,
That is the choice I made.
When I brought these lives into their own world,
As their light grows, my own will surely fade.

Spanning the Gap

What's it mean to connect?
You think spanning the gap,
Twixt what you think and what you think I think,
Is scientific fact.

And in a way you can be sure you've synced,
Your thoughts with another,
Having blind faith in the feelings you hold,
Knowing science can't give you an answer,

A fact you cannot let your heart perceive,
Many other things, too,
Like the fact evolution's a theory,
Or truth in right-wing views.

One thing I know,
I can hear what you say,
And the way you put your words together,
Makes me want to speak with you everyday.

Mom

The first time it happened,
Seemed like all or nothing,
That insidious nexus of our lives,
Through us too was spreading.

Is it the same the second time around?
My love is no less strong,
Your life is no less precious than before,
I'm sure the ordeal will take just as long,

There are more lives out there that share your blood,
And those who might still come,
Who can't conceive of you not being there,
With that optimism,

That saved your life,
With the power of thought.
Perhaps this is an opportunity,
To reteach the lessons that you once taught.

The Book of Truth

There is nothing left, now,
That can be taken back.
This is true of all moments that you've lived,
In case you've missed this fact.

And this is true of each moment that's past,
Since you read the words that you have just read,
Oops, there goes one more now,
That will be unchanged until you are dead.

And yet each moment on the horizon,
Is wholly undefined,
You could be snatched by an alien ship,
Like in The Life of Brian.

So, what to do,
Bookmarked by such contrast?
There is no book that provides true guidance,
So treat each moment as if it's your last.

Let Me Reach You

Let me reach out to you,

Despite the obstacles,

There're no two people in this whole damn world,

Not held back by shackles.

Some gladly fastened by themselves, no doubt,

We're all born knowing naught,

But those just reinforce the other chains,

We're hardly born before we're quickly caught.

Let me show you a little trick I learned,

The farm is a good guide,

Plants are held fast to the earth by their roots,

Still they spread to the sky.

Until they're free,
Their trammels now supports.
What does it matter to be in irons,
When there is nothing you can't grow towards?

Get Me Out Of Here

The earth has conspired,
To eternally bond,
Souls not meant to be together that long,
To stunt evolution,

Despite all the things we're raping on it,
The trees, lakes, air and all,
It still does not want this marriage to fail,
To feel our love, despite the aerosol,

It would suffer eons of sick neglect,
For a nugget of proof,
That through the haze of greed and selfishness,
There are a caring few,

And so we trudge,
Undermining progress,
Not able to leave this selfish planet,
So that it's free of cosmic loneliness.

Ode to the Rain

What did the rain promise,
When it first suffused soil,
Triggering the life we all now enjoy,
Causing our souls to roil,

By the turbulence of the other things,
Sprung from the life it gives?
Does it take no responsibility,
For the aftermath of its recklessness?

Like war, famine and even drought, itself,
And questions of what's right.
Rain should have thought of love and consequence,
Before it married light.

We're like the rain,
We just fell into this,
Trying to understand our origins,
Finding the easiest path to our bliss.

The Trip

The grass is not greener,
Everybody knows that,
You're the same person over here or there,
You act the way you act.

And though there's value in finding that out,
Once is probably enough,
More than that and you're being ignorant,
And disrespectful to the ones you love.

But people don't talk much about the trip.
Now that's interesting.
If I could spend my life leaping the fence,
I'd truly be learning,

About myself,
And so, about you, too,
Until both sides are brown and withering,
Leaping back and forth, hand-in-hand with you.

Wait

The sound of the TV,
Learn about inclined planes,
How heavy weights can be mitigated,
Machines and words, the same,

Try stretching out all thoughts and expressions,
The terseness last night did little to lift,
Darkness into the light,
Real connection so much more than what-ifs.

Dropping, so much easier than holding,
Though after such effort,
To lose everything you've worked hard to get,
And now you can't get more.

What's it all for,
If not to pick up weights,
And figure out how to keep on moving?
Most think of this after it's far too late.

Within It

Fear cannot continue,
Its choices are all flawed,
Organizing the offers before you,
So one was all you saw,

And time's been no help, refusing to stop,
Watching dreams up and die,
Perspective blinding you from all the joys,
Screaming out to embrace you all the time.

If you have to smash something to be free,
By god, smash all you see,
The truth you've lived by kind of falls short of,
Believability.

It's not too late.
Just watch one good movie,
Walk through the holes you made with that hammer,
And leave it open for the world to see.

Wandering the Night

Sometimes life can stand still,
Anticipating the,
Reaction of another soul in it,
Juggling reality.

As the bath water grows cold around you,
Mouths waiting to be fed,
I walk lonely through the streets of New York,
Thinking again on what the psychic said,

Wanting to just keep some semblance of it,
Knowing it's all or none,
But if she didn't have some ESP,
Why the same prediction,

As the others?
It's not about the words,
It's just the chance for a new perspective,
And something else to talk about with her.

A Wath

This is the first of lots, (6)
Though many have gone by, (6)
There is a subtlety to what I've done, (10)
Both in timing and rhyme. (6)

Some will say that structure is important, (10)
I don't argue with that, (6)
There has to be some boundaries in place, (10)
To step outside and then to reflect back. (10)

And that is just what I have to do now, (10)
To understand this life, (6)
And the things that I do so easily, (10)
That still don't relieve strife. (6)

So, here we go, (4)
A new trip, late in age, (6)
In an attempt to communicate more, (10)
Before lack of reflection turns to rage. (10)

The Value Of It All

Everyday is different,
And each moment within that,
It's amazing there is time to remember,
That there are certain acts,

Which elicit the most valued reaction,
From the ones you love.
It demands that you forget everything,
And simply rise above,

Any consideration for yourself,
Or, at least, the one who thinks,
That there is more to life than connection.
He's forgotten the most valued thing.

Depth is had by forgetting,
Yourself amidst your desire to know,
If there are thoughts outside of yourself,
That are identical.

Memories

Some things will never,
Be quite the same,
After being part of,
Your most memorable days,

Like the park where you first rode,
Your two-wheel bike,
The dark, big-buttoned skirt,
Of that girl you like,

The look on your mom's face,
The first time she told you the news.
Good, dire and those things,
That will forever imbue,

Your perspective on things,
Like what you're capable of,
If given total freedom,
And unconditional love.

Loving

Listen to the things you love,
And be with the ones you love, too,
For everything that makes you smile,
Is just a modicum of you,

And look around for smiles,
From others experiencing the same thing,
Then stick with them and find out what,
Gets them smiling,

And share with them, too,
And create with them,
You`ll never have to sleep,
If you stick with this regimen,

You'll want to stay awake,
Experiencing and sharing,
And making more things in the world.
That's your heart answering.

Home

Home is miles away,
And, yet, just around the bend,
You're already lying down, safe and sound,
Because you live in your mind,

And not your heart,
That's not where it is,
Home's not where you hang your hat,
Or find domestic bliss,

It's where you're going each moment,
A sliver-width's from your hand,
Even pushing open the door,
You're not quite human,

If you think you are home,
Why would you ever want to be?
What good is living in this world,
Without that nascent mystery?

Light Fine

Let me be ambiguous,
With no fear of reprimand,
With faith that all is understood,
Despite the ambiguity of this demand.

The less sense that I'm making,
You can be absolutely sure,
If there is anything between us,
You will need not inure,

Because here is the seduction,
Of ambiguity,
That should the meaning not be lost,
You transcend reality.

Or make a fool of yourself,
That is a risk, too,
But one I'm willing to take,
To understand you.

Not Mad To Not Have Known

The desire to keep secrets,
Is not foreign to anyone,
And certainly to save the burden on others,
Is an explanation,

Like the breakwater that saves the shore,
The silence under the glassy film,
Is peacefully detached from the chaotic surf,
Trying to get through, still.

Of course that life as an incluse,
Is better chosen than put upon,
One may wish to swim in ever-changing waves,
Than in the stench of stagnation,

Or not.
It's not all on the ones who don't tell.
One looks at life as open or closed,
And that affects what others tell you, as well.

A Conversation With Someone Dear

I can't believe that I never told you my story,
As we sat down together,
You, so sincere, told me so little,
That I could consider,

Anything that could be close to the truth,
Except in the depths of your heart,
Brought up to think a certain way,
From which you'll never depart.

But whether your ignorance or my bigoted ways,
Painted my opinion of your tragedy,
I should have given you the benefit of the doubt,
Because you are very dear to me,

But it's only now,
After the opportunity's been missed,
That I have thoughts of how we could have connected,
Which, then, were completely dismissed.

Understanding

This mountain's not a molehill,
It's not even there,
Just like when you said we would rule the world,
And we didn't go anywhere,

Because we never do,
That's not how this world works.
Not the truth, the vows or even love;
It's the search.

So, we explore through each other,
Our tools, each others' mood,
Testing mountain, car and bed,
Until it's all understood,

Which we would never want,
That would destroy all the fun,
As long as we're on an adventure,
We still feel like someone.

The Flip Flop

Everyone needs something,
That defines the who,
Of what they are behind what is seen,
And what they really do,

Because mostly everything,
That occupies your time,
Is fixated on maintaining,
The structure of your life.

That is the root of morality,
If you want to be good,
Don't act to threaten,
This world.

Or your own,
For others will say,
"Did she not understand,
That we all liked it that way?"