Sunday, February 28, 2010

Leroy On The Train This Morning

Leroy don't care
Don't care if you stare

Leroy sat in the back of the class
Leroy never did his homework
Leroy never paid attention
Leroy barely graduated
If he graduated at all
Leroy barely reads or writes

Leroy never knew his father
Leroy's mother worked all day
And most of the night
When Leroy's mother found work
Or stopped running but
Leroy grew up anyway

Leroy wanted fancy cars and
A family before he was ready so
Leroy went out to work
But there wasn't much he could do

Leroy wears a green uniform every day
Leroy rides the morning train
And plays his music loud

But Leroy don't care
Don't care if you stare

Find Me

Can't find the one for me
The search goes on and on
Where will I be
When the sun has come and gone

I've looked high and I've looked low
In my own quiet way
There is either too much rain
Or never quite enough I say

Love find me find me find me
Love find me find me fast

I allow the moon to guide me
Although it seems to never fail
Romance is always shipped out to sea
And I'm left standing at the rail

Love find me find me find me

I want to love
I need to love
I know I know how
But I can not find that love
Even though I want it now

Find me

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Anna's Party

Sitting across from me on the grape purple couch was a few contacts shy of a 501 jeans commercial. His skin was smooth, pale, and young. Black-rimmed glasses atop the bridge of his nose, and slightly slackened from his face gave him character and intrigue.

He sat, with his weight shifted to his right side, and played with her hair. He stretched it out until his finger tips reached the ends of the longest strands.

He never looked over at me, but something in his clean, fresh Russian face said he knew I was watching him.

Unfinished 90

Long distance lovers
That's what we are
A love affair
From afar

My friends tell me
Amor de leijos para pendajos
But I don't care

You're my long distance love
No matter far or near
For me
You're always there


I went to see a Brazilian film
called Vera

The temperature has dropped

The walk back
from the International House was cold

It was good hearing from my sister
when I got to my room

Friday, February 26, 2010

Two of Them

Women women women
That's all I keep hearing
Judy Amber Lee
Sally Karen Nancy
Ellen Sam and Laura
What is going on
It's like we don't even exist
I'm sitting next to them
On this plane
Two of them
And it's like I don't even exist
How can their lives seem so complete
Yet never utter
A single man's name
It makes me wonder

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Waiting for the Bus

Every morning while I wait for you
I think of thoughts not altogether new
Every morning while I wait for you
I also wait for the sky to turn blue
From black and grey, as it has been
These past mornings

Every morning while I wait for you
I hope for a better day
But every morning
I am just thankful for another day
And the surprise it brings

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Ah Tuesday

is a brown day
a round day
but never a blue square day
like Monday

It's a good day
a work day
a pay day
a play day
a life day
but it ain't caught
in the middle like Wednesday

It's a bright day
a feeling all right day
it's a love day
not a gray day
and it don't look like
a life’s passing you by day
like Thursday

It's a maroon day
a purple black day
but not an I'm depressed day

It's a slick sexy day
a celebration day
don't mistake it for
a gotta get out and party day
like Friday night day

Or rest your hangover Saturday
and repent all Sunday

Because it's your shade

Monday, February 22, 2010


Bright red orange sun
Blushing red after seeing
Soft red rose petals
Hard blood red
Beautiful red velvet
Sexy red boxers

Old Man Shoes

click click click
click click click
hear them tapping against Martha's front walk
click click click
up Martha's cement steps
click click click
across Martha's wood porch
click click click
click click cluck
to Martha's front door

ding dong

Here I am again
At the doorsteps of emptiness
Knock knock a-knocking
To be let in
A near suicidal feat
It must be the mental punishment
I adore

Quiet Storm and Sade

Well it's the fifth time I looked through my phone book, page by page. There is just no one to call. Why don't you ring? No one's ever home when I phone. You're Giving Me the Sweetest Taboo. Sing it Sade. This is my quiet storm.

It's raining silence and loneliness. Everywhere I go I'm alone. I think I need a drink. Women are always playing games. Why can't I be like everyone else and have a good ole fucking time? I think I need a drink but I don't drink.

There is an emptiness that sits with me in this house. The music plays with or without me. Day after day I become duller, more empty, old and dead. What am I doing wrong? I plastic smile it during the day and burn to get behind my closed doors of security called home to sit, balled up, alone, in my room and not leave until the next day.

Another struggle is trying not to consume the entire refrigerator and stare at my friend the television all evening.

Down, down, down, I'm falling fast. I guess this is what keeps me sick and unable to go to work. I would like to cry but not even tears care to join my company. I'm left with my beautiful Jezebel. Sing it beautiful Sade.

Why don't you ring? Don't just sit there on the stand. Let it be someone special who makes me feel special. My friend is not coming down this weekend. It figures. What am I to do? It's probably just another fantasy anyway. My hyped up world of make-believe.

Every Winter Was a War. My head is down. I want to sleep but I can't.

Naked and Empty

It has happened again
And I am feeling cheap
After closing the door
Nothing to cling to
But sweaty sheets and heavy hollowness
This time a bonus, a passion mark
So every time I look in the mirror
I know
What I am
What I did
What I want
But what I get
Addicted to attention
I let go, give in, only to be let down
By me
Always I am disrobed with lust
Never clothed with love
I cry I cry
I form icicles around my heart
I cry I cry
But never on the outside


b free
b u don't b me
b free
in who u r
look up in the sky
there's a place 4 u
there u r
a shining star
b free
b u don't b me
b free
when u look across the street
and wonder
is that where u should b
b free
b u don't be me
b free
when the room's full
and no one knows your name
the applause begins
and u want the same
i c u standing in the back
my eyes try and send a message 2 u
my love
please b u
don't be me
b free
b u don't b me
b free

On The Y8 Going Home

The man on the back a da bus
He's a talkin' to us
But nobody's listenin'
Nobody cares
Nobody really hears

Sometimes he screams
Praise the Lord I'm saved I'm saved
Sometimes it's in a whisper
I look aroun' an' wha' do I see
All's wearin' an expression dat says
Mister mister

An ol' man of thirty-seven
I know 'cause I heard him say so

He's been dealt raw cards
Of which he chose a few
Now he's out of prison and worships life
Ready to start anew

Closer an' closer to my stop
He begins to roar
An' I jus' wanna get off the bus
'Cause I can' take no more

In my remaining seconds
I try to sympathize
Before I get off I turn around
An' I see the struggle in his eyes

Life's a Hell of a Thing

In a small town lived a young boy
The neighbor's daughter was his only toy
By the age of fourteen they knew each other well
When her belly began to swell
The folks could tell
By sixteen when he couldn't find a job
The next best thing was to cruise at night and rob
He continued and continued till he landed in jail
Sharing a cell with another male
By twenty-one he had turned that way
You know what I mean, the brother's now gay
Now he's out in the big city and claims he wants to sing
Sometimes wearing dresses, makeup and a wedding ring
He says he's happy living day to day
And all I can say is
Life's a hell of a thing

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Talk To Me Brother

Poverty encourages crime
So it's your dime
Talk talk talk to me
Where will you be
Five years from now

Poverty encourages crime
So stop wasting time
Yours and mine

I'm listening
But your lips are glistening
With hesitation
Nothing's coming out

Poverty encourages crime
Talk talk to me
Where are you headed boy

Mind my words
Forget the lime
Poverty encourages crime

Quiet Stir

She sat
with her back to the world
and with a concentrating stare
at nothing
she ate her tuna melt on rye

she reached for the Arizona iced tea
next to her side, raised it to her mouth
and drank, all in a syncopated rhythm

There was a quiet stir inside

She swung her neck
against better judgment
to look at the telephone resting
in its place at her left
although she knew it would not ring

Without thought
breath slowly released from her mouth
and as it moved past her lips it
formed the whisper of his name, Javier
followed by, I wonder where you are right now

Lady Angela

There was "Misery" and "...Flies"
on that very first night
and from out of your window
the moon was shining bright
and oh what an appetite
i had for home-popped popcorn

And I was taken

Then came bowling and late night talks
human jeopardy and short brisk walks
around the university to type Comer and such

And I was taken

Dinner and warm tender hug after hug
openess honesty and questions that tug
and I thought, inside is where I want to be
inside your world mind heart and sea

And I was taken

Now my stockings are hung with care
awaiting the celebration drawing near
and m'lady there is one for you
though you won't be here
but not to fear 'cause

I am taken
by you

Here's To You Patricia

Who doesn't understand me
They don't understand me
Nobody understands me
Why don't you understand me

Fuck u
What what you mean different
Fuck u

Who doesn't understand me
They don't understand me
Nobody understands me
Why don't you understand me

Is it the rags I wear
Is it not combing my hair
Is it the talk I talk
Is it my smile
Doesn't it say stay a while

Who doesn't understand me
They don't understand me
Nobody understands me
Why don't you understand me

I give you what I think u want
And you can't deal
I should've jumped bones
Damn damn
Everything comes tumbling down real


As the sun beamed down on her she continued to sit still, legs crossed and dangling over the edge of the square's fountain. She was neatly wrapped in her coat, gloves, and a large bold print scarf that covered her head, crossed under her neck and draped over the back of her shoulders. She had found a warm spot to wait for her lover Kenichi.
It was a sunny but brisk Saturday morning about eleven. Natasha got there promptly at ten fifty-eight. That day she got up early and attended to her household chores all the while plotting how to head out to meet Kenichi without anyone knowing.
Madam Bellai, I am going to the market and then to see a sick friend.
Where is this sick friend?
She is in Curau at home with her mother.
Madam Bellai looked at Natasha with a glaring eye, wondering if this young child was telling a story.
Very well, don't be on the streets too long.
Yes Madam Bellai.
Natasha turned and headed for her room. Madam Bellai called after her.
And dress warmly, it's a cold one out today. And be back to help for dinner.
Yes Madam Bellai.
It was now ten minutes pass eleven and the wind was picking up. Natasha sat patiently. She hoped Kenichi had not forgotten about their plans to meet.
He didn't. He was en route. He set his time accurately and planned his slip away. He too had to meet in secret because their love was forbidden.

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Birthday Gift

What are you going to do? I asked the missus. You know it's Pap's birthday. She laughs and says, I'll be nice to him today.


Early morning
tiny little voices I hear
I look around
then remember
it's all in my head
I stop I listen closely
but the words are choked
I sit
at my window
through the bars on the other side
the plow man has come
and cleared the snow away
but the drift he forgot
in front my door
I will not go out anyway
not today not today
not until tomorrow
or the next
whatever the man say
I sit
at my window
tiny little voices I hear
this time
I do not look around
it's all too familiar
that familiar familiar sound
I sit

My Tears

My tears
are not for you
my tears
are not tears
of sadness
my tears
are tears
of joy
for another day
the breath of life
a smile on my face
the sun shining brightly
over the light snow fall
that gently rests on the tulip
that stretches up from the dirt
and opens its petals
my tears
are tears
of joy
water drips
from the melting snow
that cloaks the branch
that extends from the tree
that lives outside
my bedroom window
finally I can raise my head
and face the light
that peers into the room
my tears
are tears
of joy
last night
death walked out
life walked in
when the hat
you rested
next to the door
years ago
atop your head
my tears
are not for you
my tears
are not tears
of sadness
my tears
my tears
are tears of joy


the walls
the floor
the cupboard
and fridge
the trees
the streets
and everyone
he meets
this winter.