1/12/11

Mr. Cappy bought a gun,
He bought it for protection,
But there wasn't really anybody who was out to get him,
And it never made him clever,
Or any more attractive,
And it never made him more impressive, or his life protracted.
No, it didn't help to feed him,
He bought meat at the market,
And it didn't make more people need him if that was his target.
No, it didn't make him knightly,
Or strong, or fit, or taller.
He was only, very slightly, made more capable of murder.

1/11/11

Each time we come upon a date like this,
I wish I was a numerologist,
For there would surely be no mystery,
That I could not solve through arithmetic.
With arcane knowledge, I'd interpret signs,
And these predictive digits would divine,
By rituals of old, the future told,
From mathematic fact and magic trick.

And yet, the way these numeral's values twist,
So often will resemble randomness,.
Like cotton dragons fly through clouded skies,
They only seem to be, because we wish.
For on this date to which fate is ascribed,
One man wins fortune, yet another dies,
And who can say which way the numbers play,
Toward outcomes that would merit specialness.

No, I shall call the numbers as they are:
A simple trace of where we've been so far,
And hope for you, your fondest dreams come true,
On this, or any other numbered days,
And urge we guard to not exaggerate,
As we revere these fleeting times and dates,
Lest we forget the gift of every breath,
And, through our careful counting, loose our way.

1/10/11

'The world is due to end this coming year,
Destruction is at hand- Repent! Recant!'
With low foreboding tones of mortal fear,
So spoke the doomsday, armchair hierophant .
But, as he smugly preached and prophesied,
I couldn't help but watch and pity this.
If God intends the end, this man will find,
His last days wasted on self-righteousness.
1/9/11


There's a cat in the road and it crosses my way,
And it darts with a startle, this poor hapless stray,
But, it doesn't rehearse in it's mind this transverse
It dives headlong through this death defying display.
In it's feline minds-eye it perceives no nine lives,
Just an impulse of need and a quick fearless drive.
As this cat clears the road, I pray I'll be bestowed,
With the same leap of faith and the same will to try.

1/8/11

The snow descends in silent revelry,
And fills the air with opaque haziness.
It settles on the dwellings and the trees,
Enclosing all expectant surfaces.
It's calming hands caress the empty streets,
Restricting all our harried busyness,
Like nursing fingers tucking linen sheets,
And sending us to sleep with gentle kiss.
With calm concern, it urges we must stay,
And know, for this short time, we won't be missed.
The worried world can wait another day.
For now, the skies provision nothingness.
1/7/11

Today it is my birthday,
And I can't believe I made it here.
Tomorrow is my first day,
How shall I survive another year?

1/6/11
I travel on a highway West and East,
Amid a blurry wash of scenery.
Each day I stare through space in dreamlike peace,
But on this morning, it occurred to me,
Beyond the miles of watercolor trees,
And steel and stone divides on either side,
Beyond my limited periphery,
Are countless people living out their lives.
The houses where they fear and love and grow,
Communities in which they all reside,
The dramas they play out, much like my own,
All vanish from this earth as I rush by.
I see the exit ramps. I know they lead,
To passions great and small, from death to birth,
But, as I bisect this humanity,
They simply vanish from the universe.
I wonder if I stopped along my route,
And visited in some such nameless place-
Some other world beyond my own pursuits,
Would my existence, likewise, be erased?

 
1/5/11
Like an old sweater hung on a hook by the door,
That you've owned several years and will keep countless more.
One that's threadbare and worn, but still wanted and warm,
Colors faded and changed, yet it's fibers endure.
Varied memories you carry in fond retrospect,
Have been sewn 'neath the cloak of this garment's protect.
All the comfort and rest long received by this dress,
Has dyed into its cloth, soulful stains, deep and pure.
As the decades pass by, I should still hope that I,
Have retained the same manner of long useful life.
Through the stretching and strife, let me be not unlike,
This old sweater, defending, soft, steadfast, and sure.


1/4/11
In life, too often we will pass our days
By waiting for the day to finally end.
We wish each minute quickly wilts away
In daydream of the fonder times we'll spend.
But on this day, I have not one regret,
For hastening decaying beats of time.
I'm glad this day is done. let me forget,
Each ebb that led me to this bitter rhyme.

1/3/11
She spied him sitting on the train,
He caught her prying eyes and smiled,
Her stop passed by but still she stayed,
He lingered too. They talked a while.
They courted on for several months,
Sometimes they fought, but most was bliss.
They shared a hundred setting suns,
And marked each sunrise with a kiss.
He finally asked to share her life,
They took their vows. and joining hands
Set down their path as man and wife,
And carried out their fondest plans.
And as years passed, their love remained,
And grew with each new passing day,
He caught her staring on the train,
Chagrined she turned and looked away.

1/2/11
A simple fleeting act of carelessness,
While standing with my hands too close to flame,
Despite a few small marks of permanence,
Which bear a signature in folly's name,
There was received no lasting, crippling blow,
Among the seared and scalded injuries,
No loss of limb did lapping flash bestow,
But blistered, wrinkled, swollen misery.
And as the heat and pain slowly abates,
And deadened cells form into plates of mail
While younger, brethren-flesh remediates,
The patient, wounded, guardsman, flesh prevails.

As withered skin begins to fall away,
I think on all the many things it touched.
As old life is supplanted, and replaced,
I ponder passing textures smooth and rough,
That this old skin transmitted to my soul,
The tactile teachings that it did impart,
The moments it met with a hand to hold,
And told romantic tales to head and heart.
The countless things it helped me to create,
The many things it held which I hold dear,
The times it clenched in fitful balls of hate,
The moments it absorbed a fallen tear.
For this, i make a vow in old skin's name,
For memories shared, i hereby promise this,
I'll keep my new skin farther from the flame,
And always guard it well from idleness.

1/1/11
This year begins as all years must,
And as time carries on, I trust,
That it shall heal wounds come before,
While introducing several more.
But still I hope for better days,
And rise resilient and amazed,
That after all I did and saw,
This day brings innocence and faith.