Category: Poetry

Collecting Vinyl

Why do we no longer want to collect
When we can find it at our fingertips?
Does it allow a level of respect
When all we do is scroll through YouTube clips?
I prefer to listen to scratchy sound
As the needle slips into the small groove,
And the motor spins the record around,
Providing the room a moment to move.
Each song was designed to play to the next,
Building up this great epic event.
We follow along with liner note text
Until the forty-five minutes are spent.
This digital age is a bitter pill
For us who treasure our stack of vinyl.

Your Gordian Knot

I tried to untie your Gordian knot
That you have called your organization.
I found this activity I have sought
Was one of a futile desperation.
I have decided to leave it alone,
And move on to a new destination,
But you do not like the progress I’ve shown,
Wishing for its old manifestation.
So I am returning to you the mess
Knowing you comfort in its creation,
But as I leave, I would like to confess
It’s built from a lack of motivation.
Whenever you jump on the latest trends,
You will never tie up all the loose ends.

Understanding by Design

I will introduce you to the question,
But I don’t know if you’ll get the answer.
I’ve been searching over all creation,
And my quest will continue to endure
Until I understand the inquiry,
And generate an insightful response.
With frustration filled with too much fury,
My exploration does not hold a chance.
I just need to listen more to my heart
By looking for what I’m trying to find,
And I fins the best way for me to start,
Turning out the noise playing in my mind.
The method I present is what is best
As it’s not about teaching to the test.

Getting the Jab

Should I fear the future, its coming pain?
I know that it is unavoidable.
I must face the necessary refrain
If I wish to make my life bearable.
Are you willing to make the sacrifice
If it will grant you certain liberties?
A night time of discomfort is the price
To break apart the year’s eternal freeze.
This may not really sell you on this shot,
To do a deed that’s so amicable.
You will find that the horror that you fraught
Should not be deemed being so terrible.
You can think of it as your civic duty
To the American society.

The Last Hurrah!

Now that the end is almost upon us,
We will travel on the road one last time,
And though our work may put up quite the fuss,
I think they will survive losing the dime.
Though there is nothing left for us to see,
We will still go out to see an old sight
Because what is in this moment for me
Is to reminisce for a single night
About my life living in this city,
And how my return may never happen.
I don’t want to remember with pity,
And that’s why I am going out again.
I’ll have to say goodbye to all of ya,
And that’s why I’m taking this last hurrah!

Limbo’s Pier

Will this path of suffering never end?
The brochure did not prepare me for this,
Forcing the bamboo of patience to bend
Just to find that place of eternal bliss.
It all went as planned when it did begin,
But then I reached this old pier halfway through,
A place to pay for my life time of sin,
And I was stuck there with nothing to do.
I couldn’t move forward or track back;
I had to wait for my absolution,
Searching my life for the thing it did lack,
Giving my soul a sense of completion.
I thank you for this time to meditate,
But Nirvana won’t be reached at this rate.

Smiley’s Tale

Smiley does not knw that she is ugly.
She does remember the ruthless children
Who wrapped her muzzle in plastic to see
If she could escape what they put her in.
She was able to survive that cruel day,
But she lost her lips and was disfigured.
Now her fans jut out in a weird display
Like she is growling at what she endured.
She’s found a life under the protection
With the gentle staff on a remote beach.
At the 10 Moons she finds the affection,
And no longer cower from a child’s reach.
Smiley does not understand her sad fate
Because she now receives more love than hate.

Realizing the Inevitable

Underneath the stairs, its scurry is heard,
Waiting for my foot to take its last step.
My imagination piques the absurd
About all the places it has crept.
I see a claw dart into the shadows,
Next to the glow of iridescent eyes.
As the deep terror within my hear grows,
I seek the inevitable surprise.
It will gather me into its clutches,
And whisper to me the stuff of nightmares.
It will corrupt everything it touches,
Making me a servant of its dark lairs.
As my vacation arrives at its end,
The horror of reality begins.

Dear Professor

Thank you for showing me your pedigree.

I am glad they have taught you how to jump.

Did you believe that it would impress me
That you could rise above this so-called dump
By adding to your paper collection?

Do you believe that the given title
Allows you the right to have suspension
Of reality in the work cycle?

You are nothing more than a yipping pup
Whose master preaches academia,
But if our society called you up,
Survival for you would be a failure.

Do you know how to live beyond theory,
Functioning within a reality?

Rain on a Work Day

Nothing is left we can possibly do
Then watch the rain pour over the roof’s edge.
All of the work that we tried to get through
Is just another thing I have to hedge.
More important things need my attention
Because they can only happen right now,
And please do not even try to mention
Conditions of my contractual vow.
My needs lie with the puddles being born,
And making sure they fill up completely.
It may leave your business feeling forlorn,
But it reflect the way fortune treats me.
I do not care for the way that you cry.
My concern comes from the tears in the sky.