Friday, July 25, 2014

The Day In The Garden

I think of the day in the garden with you
Beyond the crumbling manor of a bygone man
And the stony gaze of archaic ladies
of flowers and grain
We passed a chair large enough
To seat all my dreams of you
To light upon a canopied bench
tucked away
Amongst the newly green
and the vibrant life
surrounding us
As all things were just budding
We were only just meeting
After knowing you forever
And I longed to see
This garden in full bloom.

Thursday, July 10, 2014

Just One Note

that note that rumbles forth
when not trying to induce a
nor cry
but breath barely escaping valves
producing a low note
that's almost broken
on the verge of seeming rupture and interruption
and for that moment I imagine
musician and instrument in an intimate embrace
a singularity in one low broken note
which overwhelms me
engulfs me with sex
a primal and carnal emotion of unknown origin
as I view the world through half-lidded serenity
if only for just one note

Tuesday, July 8, 2014


In the quest to attain greatness,
I have committed a most grave sin:
I failed to recognize the greatness I already possess.
I am not a broken thing to be fixed;
I am a goddamn dynamo to be reckoned with.

Friday, July 4, 2014

Black Dog

I run with a big black dog
Lost in his shadow most times
Ever present
Though he lays down
And slumbers
To allow the radiant sun
Brilliant heat
Embracing light
Shine on my face

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Head and Heart

Some people go through life
and have learned
to follow their head
in all things
and form their life
through their head
to protect their heart
and these people are blessed
and these people are cursed

Other people go through life
and have learned
to follow their heart
in all things
and form their life
through their heart
to protect their head
and these people are blessed
and these people are cursed

The head can defend you
and keep you safe
and fill your life
with security and stability
and preserve you from pain
even if you have to endure
sacrificing joy

The heart can release you
and show you marvels
and fill your life
with affection and adoration
and preserve you from joylessness
even if you have to endure
heartache and pain

You can embrace to live your life
through your head
through your heart
and be blessed
and be cursed
and never consider
the benefits of the opposing philosophy
nor the disadvantages

But I hope
I can consider
to have both options
merge both head
and heart
on the same path
and be truly blessed
for the rest of my days.

Monday, June 2, 2014

At 3 AM

At 3 AM when the world it sleeps
you wander down Broadway
a patchwork pathway swept empty silent
in seeming honor of only you

At 3 AM the foghorn bellows its stoic warning
some forgotten distance away
and you lean into the air and almost make out
the hush of the dark breaking water
that calls out its unknown message to only you

At 3 AM passing through the haloed islands and the electric murmur
of every street lamp
into the dark oasis of the in-betweens
where you look up and see every star
and you're glad you don't have to share them
for they burn for only you

At 3 AM the isolation and solitude you feel
is not at all desperate
you are alone but not lonely
because this moment in time is yours
tailored and presented to you alone
and for only you.

Monday, May 19, 2014

You Left Me Here To Write The Poems

the pen seems too heavy
most times
an immovable object
which you hefted with ease
even in your struggles
you scrawled
and you left me here
to write the poems.

you walked like
gravity wasn't doing its job
pounding your solid impression
into an unyielding earth

you stated your opinions
as if i should accept them as fact
and through my indignation
i hope you know
i mostly agreed

you were the only person
i've met so far
who could wear the grandest clothes
and still appear a disheveled mess
yet still pull the look off
like some ignoble gentleman
you would grow a full beard
and wear wool
in the oppressive summer heat

you would write me into a corner
on comics we worked on together
each and every page
i can't believe you blew up Antarctica
on me
and killed the whole team
in the first issue

all your superheroes
wore blazers and scarves
or neckties
and chain-smoked cigarettes
and never did anything heroic
just drowned in their own mire and self-doubt

you made music sound better
when you were playing it
with your awkward dancing
even though you never let me choose
what i wanted to listen to
luckily you had
good taste

you were aries
you swashbuckled
through life

you were a cigarette connoisseur
with an opinion on every brand
and proud of the fact
you been smokin' since the '80s

you walked straight through
the petrified forest
instead of taking the path
you had no interest
in the grand canyon
you slept on every picnic table
across the united states
you refused ever to learn
which is left
and which is right
making you the worst navigator
i ever drove with

you got us kicked out
of a titty bar
for telling the ladies to put some clothes on
you were crumpled
at the bottom of the stairs
out the back door
where i found you
i sat down next to you
just as crumpled

you liked obscure things
because you liked obscurity
you were the master of chaos
the king of nothing
a lion tamer to the stars

you had a thing for elevens
and the untold power
they contained
the number
haunts me now
but gives me comfort

you would call me
on the phone
our conversations
were never less than
an hour
and were essentially
about nothing
but meant everything

not everyone understood you
or even tried
i defended you always
to those who would judge
for i was the lucky one
to recognize
the uniqueness of your soul
too brilliant to ignore
or contain

i still say
with a sigh
they don't make bradfords everyday
and wholeheartedly
believe it

i'm truly blessed
because you let me in
accepted me as a friend
considered me a brother
and put up with as much of me
as you doled out of you

and i hope you know
i was there until the end
when you drew your last
i squeezed your hand
and watched you fade
and have never been
the same since
the world is just
a bit more empty now
smaller and cruel

as angry as i am
at you
for leaving
i am twice as angry
at myself
for failing to save you
like we talked about
i will try to forgive myself
for not being
the superhero
we used to read about

so now
i will save myself
in your memory
in your stead
i will leave this sickness
that we seem to share
far behind
and you're welcome
to join me along the ride
and i can only hope
you've become
a better navigator

i'm a ghost writer
for a ghost
like you said
and i'll try to listen

because after all

you left me here
to write the poems.

Friday, November 15, 2013

That Night

someone once said
you can't please all the people
all the time,

but if you try hard
you can probably
piss a good number of them

I never knew what that
until that night
I drank too much.

that night
I call
every tuesday night.

Monday, June 17, 2013

Thames Street Irony

walking down Thames
on a summer night
successfully navigating a sidewalk full
of nightlife
with a friend
searching for a decent bar
with not-expensive drinks and
most importantly
not teeming with assholes.

she was a beauty
short, slim
but with all the right curves
that her thin striped dress has seen to
calling them all out
in an astounding symmetrical glory. 

I had no thoughts
as to bedding her
for she was my friend
but I am a man
and notice
a fine form
when presented
if you do not
you risk
offending the gods
and may suffer
some wrath
of some sort. 

it was better
than walking alone
and I remember thinking
that those we passed
would not know
the difference. 

on lower Thames
where the traffic crawls
due to congestion
and stumblers off the curb
a car
filled with all-American 
New England meatheads
constituted of cheap swilled beer
of baseball
of dance music
of the mundane
and frustration
Thinly swabbed over
By too much cologne
Rolled by. 

hanging out the window
in the backseat
of a car
filled with guys
I caught his glare
as he hurled at us
"hey faggots!"

I would have been more
except for the fact
that I was walking
with a beautiful woman
that those we passed
did not know
the difference
instead of riding
in the backseat
of a car
filled with guys
that irony
most certainly was not
lost on me. 

Saturday, June 15, 2013

The View

the view from the bus
from the bridge
from the arch
white triangles reach skyward
frozen in time
past green and into blue again
and you ache
not to be
on this bus
on this bridge
on this arch
but glad
at least
for the view.