Monday, May 31, 2010


Unplugged we watch
Listening to the urban symphony
Hear the cornucopia of tunes

Unplugged we wonder
From left to right
And back again
What is she reading?
Is he penning something about me?
And what is that noise
Underneath the train...

Unplugged I see them
Trying to escape
The way the plugged-in one's do
As they bob, shift, or play
Only to glance my way
My pen catching their eye
As it gets lost
In a myriad of conversations
About life and its ways...

What It Is

I can smell the green she plucks
Tossing it to the floor
In an unknown measurement;
It smells clean
Blanketing the grime
And then she's gone
Yet her emerald droplets remain...

I can see his spill
Tossed to the floor
In a momentary lapse of unconsciousness;
It smells of salt
And of spices that entice
In the late hour of aggravation.

And then he's gone
Yet his artwork remains...

I can hear them caw
Taunting souls unseen
The behavior of girls
Still locked in their castles
Waiting for charm;
And then they are gone
Yet my ears vibrate the same...

But it doesn't matter
As I stare
At droplets of emerald
And smell
Get lost in their quiet reminder
There is so much more to the world
Than what we decide to see...

Old Fashioned Love

That old fashioned love
Sat diagonal from me
And I dreamed...

Went far off
To places unseen
Beyond glimpses
I caught
But can't seem to remember;
A contrasting quiet
To the noise that ensues
As the present boards
And we look to each other
Shaking our heads in wonder
Yet clear understanding
This is why you girls don't have men...

Old fashioned love
Connected with me
As I attempted to capture it's beauty
Looked to me
With eyes of wisdom
And smiled
Somehow knowing
I was an old fashioned love
Looking for solace
In a new fashioned world
Seeking nothing but the burial
Of all that we were
In the delicate act
Of the perception of the unseen...

Saturday, May 29, 2010

Don't Read Me

Inspired by Prince's "Don't Play Me"...

"Don't Read Me"

Don't read me
You are
Underneath my
Staring back at my dreams.

Don't read me
Try to figure me
Between my lines
Underneath my stanzas;
You couldn't read enough of me anyhow
To see enough of me
Or way
Know me
Between my sheets
In the way my beats
When you're not hearing me
Divulging me
And moments passed
I try best to explain
In that art of moving on
Which damns me
Figures me
So fine.

Don't read me
Hear me
Resonate me
Reverberate the soul
As my passion plays
In the consciousness of you
And I
Between my beats
Underneath my sheets
And the stanzas that fall
Unprotected so beautifully...

Monday, May 17, 2010

A Tango In The Night

He forgot their names
He brought them shame
Within his darkness
Light never came

Softly her kiss
Stole him away
Sang him lullabies
Of sweet escape
Within darkness
They slipped away
Upon something inhumane
And light never came

Quietly his soul
Took her breath away
And they forgot their names
Understood no shame
With each step made
In each others arms
They slipped away
Upon unspoken pains
Never caring if the brightness came

They thought them vain
Could not forget their names
Laughed behind their shames
Secretly wishing the same
Within a darkness
Within a pain...

Roll Call

Request for poems come all the time, but rarely am I actually moved to write one (without I was close to not writing with this latest request, but as I thought of the individuals for whom this piece was composed, it took me back to a group who've I've always wanted to write something for. These were those special educators of my past whom provided some of my earliest and most vivid memories. To them and the retirees of ps36K, this poem is for you... As always, enjoy...

"Roll Call"

These names came to me
And my first memories
Were of halls
Whose opposite ends
Contained rails of opposing shades
Red here
Blue there;
Of rooms
Whose doors seemed so heavy
They'd lock you in
Of floors
Polished to the point
Were it not for the fact they were wood
They would've been transparent;
But mostly of them
With the names like
And Compton
Or Tarr
Those with their bright ideas
Who sought to introduce me
To the intellectual world...

And at that time,
I didn't want to learn.

Then there were the ones who saw
Beyond the changing scenes
That I would not be lost
To my loins
And those inescapable pressures
We placed on each other
To do whatever
As we started to sniff ourselves;
Those were the names
Like Wuckovitch
Coffee and Phillips;
Believing and exposing
Feeding the desire
I still did not recognize within me
That lay dormant
Biding it's time to flourish...

Those were the ones
Who would not let me fail
Even as society bound their hands
Even as the district weathered
Those phone calls from my mother
Because the ones before
Could care less
As they escaped each afternoon
Back to their privileges
Figuring they'd pass the buck
On my lazy
On my haziness of perception
About the world
And just where it was within it
I could actually be...

At that time,
I was learning to learn.

I hadn't stopped learning
By the time they came
Those who fanned the flames
Shaped my coal of existence
With Pressure and time
Into the internal diamond
All take me to be;
Those who sought to tell the world
There was no denying me
That I would not lay down
A statistic;
They were the names like Goff
Graves, Benfatta, St. Amant,
Brown, Raynor, and Holmer...

These names came to me
And I realized why I was here
You were here
Because there is nothing greater
Than the one;
The one who'll stand
Far off in the sands of time
Reciting their own roll call of greatness
The one
Who'll hold their child close
And give their child's educator
A nod of appreciation
For the struggle
As hands are bound
By entities substituting
Testing for educating;
The one
Who will take the place
Carry the torch
Igniting the flame of learning
Within souls who have no idea
Just what it is
The world may bring...

The one I became,
As I loved to learn.

At The Edge Of A Verse

If you asked me now
What would I say
Looking in your eyes so far away
There where your heart stays
Plays in things that make me sing
Sad songs of broken dreams

If you asked me now
I'm afraid I would fall
Back into your arms
And all of your songs that sing
Promises untrue of the greatest things
You could bring my heart
But lock away in your misery
Which somehow I must breathe
In order to be
In this moment still
Broken and barren of all my will

If I asked you now
What would you say
Of the truth I placed in front of you?
Could you love me now
Open and free as the things that come to me
When I see you smile
When you're holding me
And all's like poetry
Making me high
Seeing things I never thought to know
But need to know now
Here at the edge of the verse that is you...

Sunday, May 16, 2010

7 Shades Of Me

My palate fell to the floor
Where colors once individual
Began moving
Unbound to their placements
Dawdling at first
Unsure of their freedom
Waiting for the brush
To sweep them back into place
Until they realized the prospect of their escape
Leaving their solitary paths
Joining the herd
As it stormed across the plain of creation.

Kicking up a jubilant dust
Their vivid display
Became dense and muddy
Akin to my emotional state
As thoughts of starting over again re-entered;
Muddled yet concise
I dipped into their strange new hue
Puddled at the base of my resolve
Painting ecstasy
one stroke at a time...

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

A Little Something Special

He got a little dirt on his face
But that's alright
The makeup of work

She got a bounce to her sway
Internal drum
Beating strong
The mother-land's song,
And that's alright
A little rhythm

They got a way
Of making me smile
Even as I worry about their fates;
Got a way
Of making me think
About illusions of choice
We paint;
But it's all alright
The different notes to the songs
Arrangements to the rhymes
Strokes of their brush
Leaving me with resolve
Leaving me
With faith...


Usually I'm not here
In the late
In the down
But I used to...

I miss them.
Miss the swirl and rock
Of my contents
Their painted faces
And the oddity of their existence
Like the ones across from me
Attempting to blend
In their Williamsburg wear
Of patched jeans
Dingy colors
And worn out shoes
Hip wear...

I'm not here
I'm sleeping;
Dreaming of fitting in
A square peg
To a tubular hole
Denting it's sides
Placating it's truth
To achieve
Even an imperfect meld
To the shapes of perfected molds
That would deem me
And mine
A part of the plan
At least beyond the one
Only we could understand...