Friday, November 30, 2012

The fool patience

See him? Wait, he was there
A minute ago, 
I swear --
Catch
Your breath before he
Taps you, like a petulant frat boy, 
On the shoulder you didn't glance over
And runs away,
Giggling
Until you buy him a stiff drink.

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

School of thought

It spins and knocks at
The barrier between 
My mind and the tip of my fingers,
The roof of my mouth,
Manic ideas unrequited by expression,
Interminably buzzing and making them numb.
If Descartes was right, 
I am ten people, or
I am just crazy.

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Newsflash

Strode straight in beneath the lit,
Iconic ticker tape of what's crashed
And what side goes best with Turkey
Into the tall, iconic building of 
Childhood scribble dreams
With all the greats and the near-greats
Hanging in gilt frames on the gilt walls.

Where were the usual doubts? The nerves?
The ever-persistent sound of 
"You don't belong here" hiding?
The sounds of years of undersold
And underpaid? 

Under the Christmas wreath and up
The golden elevator, thirteenth floor,
An escalator to the room where hundreds came
To think before
To sell yourself in a short time
As we all do, as best we can.

And through the din of noise that spun
Inside the walls of the best of the best,
"I belong here" strongly rung
And calmly rose above the rest.

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Lulls

There's a sweetness in the lulls
Between the dull and the do-too-much;
The space where the pull and push
Still stays but is stayed for a time
In its unique innocuousness.

One breath too much 
And you're nudged imperceptibly
Into the ebbs
And the flows of the "Now" and "Hurry" and "Rush,"
And you blink and it's already next year.

So here, in the full 
Understanding that this is precious
And refuses to last for long,
You keep your eyes open
Until the inadvertent tearing up
Blurs it all and the small momentum 
Of the involuntary, eye-soothing close
Pushes you in again,
In either direction.

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Life is a phoenix

It astounds me when the sun rises
After a long, long night
Of cries and unwelcome surprises
Or joys unfathomed, surmising
That all that could have happened
Happened, yet,
After all is left in darkness, smouldering,
The flaming peaks of pink and orange
Again appear on the horizon
And like a symphonic motif
Reprises.