The string theory in central park

I think you and I
were part of a dimensional shift
i'm almost certain of it

remember when Marty Mcfly looked at the picture
and it disappeared
and that's how he knew

Well that day
we walked over to the park beneath
the Queensborough Bridge
our feet were
bruised
and tired because of all the miles
we had traversed that week
and a police officer was starting his shift
directing traffic
he looked at me and you
and said that he loved the weather
when it was like this
we agreed
even though our faces were frozen
and crossed the street
and sat on the bench
while a father and his son tossed a football near some townhouses
that were millions of dollars
beyond us
I bet
they cost more to buy than the Bridge did to make
but it didn't matter because we had such a short time
in this beautiful city
and it moved with the current of the water
passing beneath us
so that before we knew it the sun was setting
and we were walking through central park
passing beneath a bridge through the zoo
and by the carriages
and the lights were coming on around us
surrounded by giant buildings
and the glow of the sun on the horizon
so that it looked like we were surrounded
by a crown of golden light
and it was perfect
so perfect that I almost thought
to search for a ring
one that should have been in my pocket
one that should have been handed to you
but it wasnt there
the moment came and went
and I knew
that in some other dimension
that ring was there
but I checked my pocket time and again
and nothing ever materialized
And I was sad
not because we would never have another opportunity
but I don't know
that i'd ever see one
that good again

Too late: too soon

What good is a large orange
with thick skin
a deceptive
fruit
with suspect innards

And some days
I am an orange
already off the tree
and supposedly ripe

Filled with all the nutrients
I was given
given every opportunity
to be the best orange
so when I am seen
I will be picked
and sold

But i know
that my color and size
are just a thick peel

And now
cut off from the branch
from the vine
I grew up on

It seems too late
and I only just
ripened
too soon

Facebook events

The trouble with agreeing to be there
is the a crisis of availability.
Because I can go
will I go
The answer should be yes
but I want to say no.

The trouble with inviting people through facebook
is a loss of effort.
There was a time when going somewhere
mattered.
It mattered enough to have to call or mail invites
to the people you wanted to be there,
You had to acknowledge them
so they could acknowledge you

So today, at any given time
I am invited to 5 things
from 5 people
who only want to know
yes
no
maybe

Do you like me?
yes
no
maybe

And it's like being in school again
not important
not elegant.

Not everything will change your life
not every night was the best night
not every part was the best party
its just another one

They're called events
but they are
a grind.

Concrete support structures

"I feel like i have to like LA because if I don't, nobody will"
he said
with anger
with compassion
and it's true
nobody loves you
LA

New York is fantastic
and full of life
and flavor

San Francisco is
beautiful
and clean
and classic

Chicago
is the crown
of the midwest

But LA
is just LA
and it isn't
any of those things
But maybe
that's ok
maybe

LA is the flawed
family member
the down on it's luck friend
the oft forgotten
awkward
step child
of world cities

But it is real
it breathes
not with the sigh of mixed cultures
or passion of political past
but it burns
with its wide reaching
sprawl
it takes on the weight of more people
than of which live in it's borders
LA is not LA
but all of Southern California

It is all encompassing
rich and poor
glitz and murmur
legal and illegal
fake smiles
and dirty faces
LA is everything that it is
and it bears it for anyone to see

For all the talk of its surface
the heart of LA is where the beauty is
to watch the city at rush hour
arteries clogged
with the life blood of a region
everyone looking at the towers
the graffiti
the smog
the signs
and the abandoned factories.

LA is the past
and the present
without preservation
or kid gloves
it exists in all times

It holds much
and strains from the weight

That is why he loved LA
because LA is burdened
and alone;

Like so many of those under
it's care.

The girls who are artists

The girls who are artists
are the girls who are the most lost
and all the things they ever wanted
are in the chalk dusted pad

The boys with the journals
are the boys who never were included
in those girls dreams
and all the longing for them
was in cramp inducing poetry

These girls
these boys
they never meet
they just stare at each other as they pass

Red lights
felt canvas oil paintings
warm spirits
cold cigarettes

too much time alone

Too much time missing out
too little time moving on

the boys and the girls
they never succeed
when all they do is want success

I saw a car drive off the road
this morning
and a large man with a beard ran to help
two other cars stopped
and i wondered how my life would have changed
if i'd just pulled over

Squeezing water out of rocks

I stopped writing
for over a year
and some months
and a few days

I started writing
when I was 18
and some months
and a few days

It poured out of me then
just gushed out
of holes
like
my head had been a very old mountain
with a glacier
and it was the warmest summer
in 10,000 years

And the words continued to flow
for years
for 6 years
and some months
and a few days

And it was as if
last year
the very old mountain
was now barren
of glacial ice
and what was left behind
was dull grey conglomerate
rock

And no words came
for a year and some months and a few days
nothing came




But today

it felt like something might be left
like i still had a purpose
like i still had something to say

As if despite the dry weather
my will to pour out
will draw water
from dry rocks

Until there is just sand

The last great night that LA ever had

The city at night
the last great night
of a great era

The lights
the chill of fresh rain
of winter
of Los Angeles in
Mid December

Oh those beautiful lights
I fell in love
with you
years ago
They always fill my heart with love

When will we know?
tommorrow
next week
I have no control
I feel more wild than
the unstable air

Feral
wolflike
alone
brooding
but still
just barking at the moon.

How senseless
an act
because it will never cease
to rise
nor will
my will influence
Yours.

For wanting. For fear of expulsion.

Dont change my life
not yet
not this way

Don't let us
disgrace us
with
natural facts of life

This could be
one of the last days
of this life
After that
who knows

We'll live through it
but if this cup
could pass
I'd cry
for joy

The cradle as a cage
for you
and me
Find a way out
i'm desperately
crying out
in the darkness
for
a way out

A way to not pay for our sins
A way to defer them
I'd pray for forgiveness
but I know
that we are

But that doesn't save us
in this life

Save us
in this life
I fall asleep wanting

I fall asleep soundly
one more night in the garden
shameless
and free
I pray for many more nights
but I feel
it might be one of the last.

The wind came and swept my anger away

The winds came
and swept my anger away
the tree's cheered
and howled
and hooted
like our audience
and you cried
to see me
and I
knew
Things were gonna be ok
not yet
but soon
The next morning
trees were all over the roads
power lines were splintered
but what we have
is
only a little stronger.

The wind came
and swept my anger away
and somehow
kept us close
together.

The undeath of old things

So many people
treated you
like dirt
and for a week
they treated you like a person

They don't deserve you

They pretend to be real men
and laugh
at me
because i'm not like them

What arrogance
what hypocrisy

I'm glad you finally stood up to someone
too bad it was to the one person
who consistently stood up
for you

Hold on to the things they gave you
temporarily relieve the pain

clutch the needles
let the anchors
weigh you down
say the words
drink
the wine

And spit on me

The most selfish one

I held you all night long
and it meant nothing to you

How despicable
and embarrassing
I'd just as soon
not have arms

than have them so ignored

I watched you smile
in your sleep
I thought it was cause I was there

The smile was gone in the morning

You told me i'm selfish
it's true
I can be
the most selfish person
on the planet earth

But not when i'm with you
I'm as giving as I can be
despite
what everyone else
whispers in your ear
I am always on your side
and I have been there
for you
not just on the Holiday's
or in the midst of tragedy

No

I Love you so much
I am there for you
when there is the serenity
of ripples
on a pond.

The new word

Why have you decided to leave me now
we were walking side by side
but the two paths we traverse
were so slowly
bending away from each other
i never recognized
it
until now i have to shout
for you to hear me

I could have done things better
I could have come
closer to you
I should have
but it seemed like you were
repulsed
with every step I eventually made

Now you yell to me
"I love you!
but,"
but never used to be apart of it
now its all I hear

BUT
you need to work on some things
BUT
you need to think about me
BUT
you shouldn't have been like that

I'm sorry for those things
but
mostly im sorry
that now that you see me
the way i really am
for the first time
it's not what
you thought you wanted

Now, i'm the toy that's the wrong color
you could still play with me
but I still see
the disappointment
written all over your face

I'm not ready to give up
on us
BUT
if I'm not what you thought you had
could I ever really be?

Collectors item

Chaos is beautiful
shattering glass
cracked ceramics
random flashes
flickering fluorescent lights
all these things happen
for a reason
but they are not part of a plan

Everyone understands a crime of passion
justified or not
but premeditated
is evil
because too much control
stifles
true beauty

Boxes are wrong
everything that is in a box
belongs somewhere else
deserves freedom
and if they don't deserve it
then they deserve
to not exist

Nobody wants to be
the treasured figurine
in a
glass case

We should all strive to be
the action figure on the ground
the well worn coat with frayed
strands
the dirty cup in a sink
the yellowing white t-shirt

We love many things
and we want to protect them
but I only want you to love me
if you're willing to smudge me
scratch me
drop me
get use out of me.

But leave me out of plastic covers
boxes
cases
displays

No greater a fate
than to be a cherished item
on a high shelf.

This is hardly a poem

Where have you gone?
Do you even read what I write anymore
you used
to tell me
when you liked one,

Now I don't know
if you care
or if you just don't like it

You fell in love with
the idea of being with me
and sometimes
i feel like
you neglect the reality
the immediacy.

I miss when you wanted to impress me
not because you needed to
but because it showed you care

Where has the romance gone?
We've been together a year
not a decade.

The present is the foundation
of the future
a necessary evil
of the ideal

I miss the excitement in your eyes
replaced by
a dreamers gleam

I love you so much
Today
this second
this immediate moment

And I feel like you love me
in the future.

The corner

I can see nothing
from my corner
but I see all too well


Talent
without inspiration
Experience
without wisdom
Voices with hollow opinions
Questions
without answers


Sad, pathetic
normal people
smiling without joy
planning without acting
Working to no end
for no end
a vacation
a dog bone
a sad play.

A reality

My corner
hides my eyes from the lie
while my ears pick up the reality.

And from my corner
I hide
from it.

You are with me when the dogs bark at each other

A grinding of dry soil
a ping of chain link
fencing
Warm air, still air
two dogs bark
and speak to each other
The end of a street, the entrance to
a desert
Just myself
and the Creator

And it all made sense
The loneliness which used
to be in my heart is
no longer
A despair which felt as hot and unmoving
as this night
is gone
and I can be alone and hear silence
not my own thoughts

Life if unforgiving
that is why we come together
that is why i searched
and searched
and found
the one who never left my side

It was you
who I wanted
It was you
who I desired
and still it is you
who is with me
when I used to be without

I cannot wrestle with the angel
for it has already struck
me lame

You have made me settled
you have given me peace
in the most peaceful settings
And though you may think I never wanted you

I chose you

I chose you to be my companion
to be my stability in quake
to be my solace
from everyone else

You are the shimmering lights in the valley below
the warmth emanating from the ground
you are the shadow of mountains
and the shine of waning moon

You are the howls of desert fauna
you are my muse
for now and forever
You and I
will never be away from each other as long as both our heels
touch the solid of the Earth
and I suspect,
(once we are beneath it)
then as well

We are two specks of dust
in a sea of dunes
at the mercy
of wind
and shake
and time
and flood
But we will always track
along side one another

You are the beauty of this age and the next
and you are
mine.

Love incarnate

Everybody speaks like they are giving the speech at the end of a movie

Everybody speaks
like they are giving the speech at the end of a movie
precisely measured
perfectly metered
impassioned
emotioned
baby talk

Pure drivel
A prayer to
self indulgence
faux intelligence
served on a platter
of inconsistent volume
and movie anti hero charm

And gone
Gone is the thing which makes each person
great and small
themselves

I consider it a triumph
for a mouse to speak with
a rodents diminutive speech
and not the trumpet of an elephant

And most of all
I consider my own voice
the ringing in my ears
the self regulated song of myself
I struggle to tally my breaths and sentences
and hope that simple arithmetic does not prove
my only reason for breathing
is to endlessly use a voice
which

I consider foul
distasteful
tinny
And over utilized

I long to be a star of the silent film
The Golden Age of Hollywood

A maintenance

I cannot push you
cannot will you to do what I want
it isn't my place
I cannot sit by wayside
and try to keep the clay
from crumbling off
because

I did not form you
you did
and others did

And you did not form me
though
I wish you would try
You do not have a sculptors heart
But that of an appreciatist
of art

And I have the sculptors eye
and no arms

I hope you do not crumble
I don't want to see that
to see your youth and beauty
not only fade away
but never fully realized

But I cannot save you
You can.

I cannot even convince you
to save you
only
You can.

I have to look away
and hope that every time i look back
you're still there
like i remembered.

Afraid of me

The eyes
sheepish, doggish
sluggish
of a worried face
expression says
"We're sorry"
body language leans away
nervous chuckle

The movement like a hyena
around a lion
tenuous
calculated
none too careful

I am the lion
but not the large maned
kings of the savannah
but the fringey
mangy
young lions
who wander aimlessly from carrion
to carrion

Rejection
like a scorched valley
black and brown
distraught and dissolute
They creep around me
hoping I wont come out of
a brooding daze
and charge
but anger is not
the unstable emotion
i feel

Embarrassment
For being what I am
for not being good enough
a pariah of the pride
without pride
a car salesman
worse

A cell phone salesman.

A cursed wanderer
"Where is my path?"
I have no help
no solace
not on this earth
and Coptic glyph, cryptic
advice from on high.

Unsure of each movement
unsure of each step
and everyone tip toes around me.

A voice crying out
in the wilderness
John the Baptist
of the Inland empire
Asphalt rivers
for renewal.

My head prepared
for the platter.

Buoyant

Your kind words
kiss my lips
like bleach laced
darts

They try to life me up
but grasp only lapels
and cuffs
removing my shirt
and leaving me bare

An ugly
unpolished
misshapen
very nearly unholy
ugly

too real for me to see
when i look in the mirror

18 was the last year
my confidence rose
through photograph

7 years
since i could say
I liked myself.

I feel alone
because nobody can relate to me
weakened by my distance
from ideal

If 18 were an oasis
i've walked through the desert
and am in a salt sea

desperate and hopeless

You hurt me when you try to help me
You love me but I despise me
I have let myself
and you down.

Weighted down by
disgusting bloat and waste

I deserve to drown
dragged through the abyss
by my excess mass

Instead I am made bouyant

Sitting on the surface incapable of overcoming
its tension.

not able to end
what little life
I feel i have.