Sunday, March 21, 2010

living in poetry

In a little café just the other side of the border between
Washington Heights and the city wilderness
my words linger like a midnight smoke foray
alive in Salvador Dali
What if people stopped paying their unfair subway fare?
What if a million people hopped the subway and walked on buses and nobody paid would this society go away I wish I were back in the days of Abby Hoffman, Coltrane and Lennon
What if everyone who went shopping at wal mart stew leonards and costcos put 100 items in their cart and declined to pay as they walked out the door

Dominican Dudes selling fruits en la esquina, hablo con ellos en me español roto
speak my broken Spanish
Swish my way past - wish I could have a kasha knish
Jimbo Burgers, La Caridad, Inwood Xtra Pizza, Quick Stop Bodega, ten-tan Chinese and Amy’s
All your needs fulfilled below the elevated train
El Camino for auto supplies, El Mirador serves wine and beer Y comida latina but no bagels or knishes, my favorite dishes
So many things to see, wish there was no anarchy wish I was free
I’m not as free as a tree - I want to be as free as a summer breeze
Blowing continuously at ninety degrees
like the summer rain cools the ground and mists around
like rain formed rainbows I want to be the rainbows in my mind
wounded to the core my to do list keeps growing exponentially
I’m in time for round fourteen hundred forty four more
On the southern sea shore island in my mind
I’m there in a flash of fatality, the infidelity, the totality of a unity,
I sense danger lurking - I stay steady working
I languor leisurely in my laziness until a licentious mood leads me to lavish lust
From dawn to dust, I play the game of life continuously readjust,
recently read about my poetic genius, don’t give me the bum’s rush – wow- that sounds so cool I just don’t understand it.
race and religion as subjects cause despondence and glee.
Like a glacier rotting away I sit here eating my cappuccino fudge sundae – how do they keep that fudge so soft ice cream talking disaster, my world degenerates while faster rhythms
Sets my thoughts
Flowing like lava rain drenches meeting a ceremonial master in the Arabian Desert
My city rain meets recalcitrant refusing concrete
bring the word to the street - a super salivary sweet treat
Whaddaya’ think, I’ve got the link, it’s sink or sing, a tune in head
An ocean of sound all around, lost and found I keep trying to heal the wounds but they’re cut too deep. my words turn to blood and ooze through holy ground


  1. Anonymous10:18 PM

    Great Work, Good Blog, Thanks...


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  2. Anonymous10:26 PM

    Great Work, Good Blog, Thanks...


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  3. I like your work and found your blog via "best poetry blogs" list. I happened to find myself there too and am having a great time visiting the fabulous blogs on the list.

  4. Love...reminders of all that I miss out in the Mild Wild West...

  5. hello,

    i have read lots of poetry, but none that spontaneous and deep and real and thoughtful. congratulations!

  6. Charle Stone has just said it for me.....drat!

  7. Anonymous12:48 AM

    I'm twenty now, I began to love poetry since I read this blog.


    Sartika Dian

  8. Wonderful poetry&so inspirational!