Yard Sailor

I’m going to set sail on a long, long trip
Wherein I will lose sight of this land
And before I set sail, there’s a sale
Wherein I sell all, save for my soul
For without these, I am whole
This is my goal

Every worthless piece of junk,
Every memory laden trinket
Are just the same, things we’ve named
Assigned some life, some use, some space
And adorned our homes with decorous grace
For staged comforts set before our face.

My assets set out for rats to nibble at
in twenty-five cent increments
Each knick-knack sold, a fraying fiber
Of the rope that holds me to the dock
“Why, yes that Christmas tree is flocked!”
“I’m going cheap on that wok.”

Legos, lei goes, I’m letting go
Casting off weight and severing rope
Pushing off from all umbilical
Carnivore material vines that keep me drowning
On the soil that feels like grounding
Sell the yard and the surroundings

Hit the water, smooth and forgiving
Freer than the seabirds that place shiny things in their nests
It is possible to say that I am blessed
When I have nothing
Not even the anchor.

Published in: on November 5, 2014 at 9:11 pm  Comments (2)  
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Silent Night

When the neighborhood rests
snug in their stucco nests
and the air conditioners hum
competing with the crickets
and the moon is slung low
in the midnight horizon
you will find me
all agaze and in revel
of the peace and the still
The porch is the precipice on the edge
of my sweet silent world,
infinite swirls of tranquility
the air that surrounds me
breathe wide and smooth
I’ll have a slow dance with my cigarette
let the mosquitoes get their appetites whet
and linger in my mecca
until exhaustion grabs me
with its imperious undertow
and stuffs me headlong
into quaint pockets of dizzy dreams
Published in: on July 2, 2010 at 1:08 am  Comments (6)  
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Under the Shade Oak Tree

relaxing in grass
I’m gonna spread myself out under that shade oak tree
and close my eyes;
feel the breeze flow across my cheeks
my arm flung on the ground behind my head
light and hollow inside,
heavy as wind chime lead
singing, clanging songs as it moves me
this serenity soothes me
If I could only squeeze
the essence of this peace
preserved into a vial for consumption
when the fires of hell are raging.
Published in: on November 9, 2009 at 10:42 pm  Comments (1)  
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