Merchant ship

I tried,
perhaps a bit too hard,
to avoid seeing
the reflections of tears
I knew were painted
across the mirror
in front of me.
If only I were
a merchant ship
sailing on your seas,
as salty as my cheeks,
moving from port
to port.
The ocean winds
would fill my sails
and dry my face.

Blue Porsche

Sitting, sweating.
Sweltering summer.
Out back with a dog
that looks like a llama.
Train cars fly by.
Blue boxes.
Uniformity.
A Porsche pulls up
and waits for them to pass.

Rounding the corner

Listening
to the sounds
of reality.
I will soon
round the corner,
but the "Squeak"
"Squeak" of the
airconditioner will
remain still, hanging
thick like smoke
in this tight
alleyway.
I'm thinking
of a poem
that tells itself
far from here
to those who gaze
upon it.
The cynicism
of the ages
is captured in
my smile as I
stare at those
who surround me.
It is comical
yet bittersweet;
I escape it
in my fantasies.

The wind was blowing

Watching a half-smoked cigarette
blow across the table
in a good friend's backyard.
I thought maybe I should
just hold it so it doesn't
fall on the ground,
But instead I'll allow it
to be free spirited because
that's all it has, really.
Someone will finish smoking
it very soon, I'm sure.

Two cigarettes

Yesterday
a great friend of mine
smoked two
cigarettes.
When he finished
the second,
he started to
cough and
when he breathed,
he wheezed like
nothing I've ever
heard. He
sounded like
someone who was
dying, and
fighting hard
against it.
He hacked
and
hacked,
sounding so sickly.
I wonder
what his lungs
look like.

Across the ocean

Europe is still
on the other side
of the ocean,
so I shut my
bedroom door
and draw the
curtains, and
just listen to the
wind blow outside
so I can pretend
that I'm somewhere
more beautiful
than here.
I've been paging
through memories
and they're keeping
me awake,
though some of
them do have
a certain warmth.
It's nice to let
my spirit drift
through alpine
mountains that
exist only in my
mind.
They're beautiful
at this time of year.
(It's summertime
inside of me)
I'd like to go
back to that
little village
in Switzerland
down in the
valley with the
waterfall.
I'd like to sit
on the roof of
the hotel
and take in
the European night.

Poem

Let's go
back to Lichtenstein.
I want to be
surrounded by
Alpine mountains
and evergreen
forests. I want
to gaze across
vast lakes.
I want to be
nestled in
the valley
with blue skies
above.
I don't want
to be here
in pennsylvania
anymore.

On a personal crisis

I can't
write a
damn thing.
I don't know
what's happened.
I had been
prolific until
recently. Not
a single poem
has turned out
nicely. It's
driving me crazy.
What do we
call an eternally
cynical poet
that can no
longer write a
poem?

On living

Like pebbles
at the pond
we are all
tossed into it;
this eternal becoming.
And we've named
it too:
living.
Stumbling down
the path
and stopping often
to gaze upon
some fleeting
beauty before,
again, we stumble.
The sun rises and sets
and still
we carry on.
Sometimes
one meets
a second self,
and together
they stumble,
until one
falls behind,
and both feel
a deep loss,
each seeing
the reflection
of the other
for a time after.
And thus,
we are plagued
with equal amounts
of loss and
gain, longing
and hope, which
together form
an anxiety so
strong, one could
bear no more
of it.
The memory
of the origin
of the path
fades, and
is replaced
by memories
of moments
full of bliss
or full of despair.
We think equally
of the path
already traveled
and what may lie
on the path
ahead, yet,
at any given
point in time,
we remain on the
ground where
we currently walk.
The steady rythm,
footsep after footstep,
ends when
the last breah
is exhaled;
the last bit
of strength is
lost;
the final thought
leaves the brain,
and each of us
collapse to the
ground, defeated.
And, though one
may fight against
it, we all will,
invariably,
fall.

Six quick observations

The strange
dull roar of
civilization
rages in the
distance.

A deer is
standing in the
tall pines.

I sit upon
the steady
earth.

The sun is
burning,
hotter than
anything.

Gray clouds
loom over the
forest in the
distance.

I pause
and rest my
mind.