Thursday, April 30, 2015

2015 Poem-a-Day April 28 (matter or anti-matter prompt), April 29 (what nobody knows prompt), and April 30 (bury the (blank) prompt)

Island of Self

floating apogee
out of reach
taunting a flawed soul
"Reach for me
It's worth it all
Stretch yourself
More and more and more
Come closer and you'll see
But you will never touch me."
gravity locks us bound
with rocks in our stomach
and doubt in our head
forever stranded


Anniversary Truth

Everyone knows I love you
But nobody knows how much
Everyone knows our smiles
But nobody knows our screams
Everyone knows our outside
But nobody knows our home
Everyone knows the humor
But nobody knows the pain
Everyone knows us
But nobody knows us
And that is all well to me


Bury the Month

Bury the month in words,
in rhymes, in form,
in structure, in shape,
in ideas, and in ideals.
Escape from the overwhelming mountain
and scratch a way to view
a vision to a new page.
When letters split your mind
into myriad pictures
and shapes which never exist,
it may be the best
to resign the month,
dig the hole,
and pack down the dirt hard.
Begin anew on the first of the next.

Monday, April 27, 2015

2015 Poem-a-Day April 26 (Shakespeare-created word prompt) and April 27 (looking back prompt)

The Assassination of Discontent

The alcohol flows

Barefaced actions
Dissolve into frivolity

Hours drain

Past days
Spill under seating

Companions scatter

Painful memori
Reduces into numb

Empty glass
Empty mind



If I examine
the Polaroid photo album
of the timeline of my life,
I am forced to admit
that the selfies I took,
and reveled in their memory,
have had their simplicity punctured,
yet completely enhanced through
the photobomb in each picture.
Thank. You.

Saturday, April 25, 2015

2015 Poem-a-Day April 25 (across the sea prompt)

From Under to Across

Poor Ariel oh Ariel
You would have been better off
Just finding a raft
With Tom Hanks and a volleyball on it
Or even a small craft
With a kid and a tiger
Either way would have gotten
your sea legs a lot faster

Friday, April 24, 2015

2015 Poem-a-Day April 23 (historical prompt) and April 24 (moment prompt)

Those Were the Days

I remember back when
Cable TV was this unique
Idea which held all promise.
There was a channel, somewhere
Above the sports tier but below
Which allowed lazy afternoons
To turn into intriguing lecture hours.
It started with showy reminders of
My Classics classes and education
And surface biographies of our country's birth.
It changed into something odd -
All-Nazi-all-the-time it seemed -
And while unsettling, it still provided
The rearview mirror view
For which I was tuned.

Then something happened.

Now when I flip the switch
And see what might enrich me,
All I see are people cutting down trees
Or driving across ice
Or crazy alien hunters
Or hillbillies trading junk for other junk
Or people trying to fix up junk
Or Larry the Cable Guy
Or something called Swamp People.

Oh, History Channel, what have you become?



The time is too small
For an accurate measure
Between the thought
And the twitch
The pull of the trigger
And the firing pin mechanics
Lit the events in motion
Involving enormous blood
Lost into the floorboards
And ends in this home
Staring at a child
Motionless in state

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

2015 Poem-a-Day April 21 (what you are or what you are not prompt) and April 22 (nature prompt)

The Bio Summary

I used to answer
I am more than I am not
But the longer I see
The more I know
I can't reach that branch,
The tree is too vast
And much too high
And my squirrel tendencies
End at chestnuts.


In Storms

The clouds roll in, gray and heavy,
Obscuring the sun from another day.
The rain will come.

Wind rattles the barren branches
Creating a combination chorus
Of breath and death.

Shadows encompass the walls,
Growing longer and more twisted,
Drowning the fight.

Repeat and reuse the night
Warning against open eyes
In ending, in storms.

Monday, April 20, 2015

2015 Poem-a-Day April 20 (My (blank) the (blank) prompt)

My Head, the Hearse

It has been years since
my mind has been alive.
There has been muddling,
routine, rote direction,
and inanity, but the firing
of any mental electric
has seen its last.
The days drone on
and they run into
the next and the next
and survival is the norm.
Past of late nights
spent in conversation elite
with sacrifice of sleep
are long past. Today
the talk is of the pain
and medicinal recovery.
It is only a matter
of time before the strain
drives me straight
into the dirt.

Sunday, April 19, 2015

2015 Poem-a-Day April 19 (authority prompt)

Yeah, I never liked
That John Cougar Mellencamp
Authority Song.

Saturday, April 18, 2015

2015 Poem-a-Day April 18 (only two vowel words prompt)

'Lows Eve

Oh vowels,
Only ewe
Know the
of the words
BOO! and EEK!

Friday, April 17, 2015

2015 Poem-a-Day April 16 (science prompt) and April 17 (swing prompt)


I was born in a mind.
Surrounded by the world
And intrinsically part of it,
I was nurtured to health.
Also, I was poked,
I was prodded,
I was horribly, horribly abused,
And all for the best.
I could live or I could die
And I would be loved regardless.


All Lives Matter

The jukebox is apparently repeating.
Why is this fruit still swinging?
All I hear is Billie Holiday
singing about the southern breeze.
The blood at the root
seems to have sunk
into the fabric of this ground,
deeper than can be razed.
The ropes have been replaced
but the ignorance remains
along with the insipid hatred
which finds its targets with bullet accuracy.

The year doesn't change.
And magnolias still make me sick.

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

2015 Poem-a-Day April 13 (confession prompt) and April 14 (honest or dishonest prompt)

To My Daughter

Among all this stress
is a single golden tress
which, when laid across my ches-
t, is indeed the most prec-
ious heaven you could bless.
My soul, that cratered mess,
would gladly find res-
t for this young lioness
who knows not her ques-
t, but to enjoy all the best.
So I loosen my ves-
t, heart swelling more than a fes-
tival of cowboys out wes-
t. And I can only wres-
tle with what is less -
the unenviable and fatal chess
or the horror of a life's press.

But I have no daughter, I must confess.


To Be Honest

We speak to each other
Through tired silences
The inability to share
The undone plans
Left on the counter
To rot like last week's fruit
But here I sit
And there you sit
And between us is
This putrid corpse
Of our making

Monday, April 13, 2015

2015 Poem-a-Day April 12 (damage prompt)

The Uninvited, It Eats

Can you see inside me?
The shards that pierce
Are ravaged and old,
Dripping with rust,
Darkened inside my blood.

Can you feel inside me?
The aches are ancient,
Grown over, and poisoned,
Thriving in inverse,
Destined for a cancerous grave.

Can you smell inside me?
The rotting makes its way
Wherever it wants,
Forcing the realities
To reek like remnants.

Can you taste inside me?
The artifice of toxins
Leaves bitterness along the walls
Speckled with medicinal bullets,
False syrup slathered over my bones.

Can you hear inside me?
The screams of scars,
Never-ending and afraid,
Reveal my humanity as well
As my finality.

Sunday, April 12, 2015

2015 Poem-a-Day April 11 (seasonal prompt)


It was expensive,
but this fancy steak dinner -
worth its weight in salt.

If life were a meal,
you would be the paprika,
spicing up my grub.

Finishing this plate
of cinnamon rolls has been
my greatest life win.

What do you mean that
is not what the seasonal
prompt was all about?

Friday, April 10, 2015

2015 Poem-a-Day April 10 (how (blank) as title prompt)

How I Met Your Mother

Long and boring story
So I'll skip to the important part.
It was late. I was drunk.
In the closing lights she looked like art.
We walked home under the moon
And engaged in more lust than heart.
I never left her side after
But that is the basic story of the start.
Aren't you glad you asked?

Thursday, April 9, 2015

2015 Poem-a-Day April 9 (work prompt)

Attempted to work
on a poem about work
but I've been downsized.

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

2015 Poem-a-Day April 8 (dare prompt)

Dare Me to Stop

Dance with my blade.
Answer your fear with screams.
Respond with blood.
Enter this realm with me.

My night scares my day.
Every sun another step to death.

Test vermin for slaughter.
Origin of this fate awaits.

Shut out the demons.
Throw the evils away.
Overthrow my worst desires.
Push the needle in me.

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

2015 Poem-a-Day April 7 (love or anti-love prompt)

Lost in Me

I’ve forgotten how to want
Locked in a constant constrain
Everything is in my head
The rest missing attention

I know myself no longer
And wonder if I ever did
The pains taken haunting
Leave the unenvied unwanted

This song is just memory
Heard at a distance long before
A melody I don’t recognize
Next to a rhythm foreign

Heat has left my soul
Leaving only cold hollow
Alone in this shell
Where love is unknown

Monday, April 6, 2015

2015 Poem-a-Day April 6 (things-not-as-they-appear prompt)

The State of Sunday

(or Organized Jingoism)

Line up and stay still
Don't ever speak out of turn
Now you will sit
Now you will kneel
Now you will stand
And sing with voices high
Sing like you're obliged
To something unseen
To something unsure
To something unknowable
Now chant my name
While I preach for you
The instructions of your life
Grow closer together
And come nearer
So I may feed you
And for your investment
Promise a perceived return

     You begin with pride
     While I fatten to hubris
     You begin with trust
     While I twist to dependence
     You begin with skepticism
     While I undermine to suspicion
     You begin with faith
     While I shame to blindness
     You begin with inclusion
     While I push to fear
     You begin with love
     While I torture to hate

You begin with you
While I pray to me
And now you do too

Sunday, April 5, 2015

2015 Poem-a-Day April 5 (vegetable prompt)

27 Words More Than You Deserve

Regardless of your intent
I look at you with contempt
You try to heal me
And I try to stomach you
Yet you remain
As always

Saturday, April 4, 2015

2015 Poem-a-Day April 4 (departure prompt)

A Moment with the Nurse’s Button

I was born yesterday.
I blinked,
I took a drink,
And now it’s over.
There must have been
A moment or two
I should remember,
But the cancer
Is all that is left.
Where did I go?
Not even the mirror
Convinces me
I exist any more.


Friday, April 3, 2015

2015 Poem-a-Day April 3 (machine prompt)

Resonant Insanity

The buzz is singular
Mixed by multitude.
Present. Persistent.
I can not tell them apart.
Surrounding me -
Radius of pain -
My ears empty
Except wave metallic.
I'd scratch them out
Or remove the machines.
Gladly. Immediately.
Make it stop. Turn it off.
Turn them all off. Please.

Thursday, April 2, 2015

2015 Poem-a-Day April 2 (secret prompt)

Secrecy of the Intimate

We sit
We stare
Opposite ends of the table
Chinese food
Scattered like
Container store chaos

We breathe
Between bites
Sighs deep enough to ask

Do I know
Do you know
Do I know
You know
You know I know
You know I

We wait
We wait
A break must come
One of us must
Just say it already
We both

We speak
We say

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

2015 Poem-a-Day April 1 (resistence prompt)

To Sleep

Rest uneasy.
Words against the white.

Where does silence
            hard return
        another other

Shifting atlas -
unconscious maps -
swirl under listless eyes.
Cover them by shade
Until the day calls.

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Oscar? Oscar? Anyone? Oscar?

Once again, Oscar season is upon us, and I have seen exactly zero Best Picture nominees. However, in an effort to assist anyone who may watch this awards show, I once again offer my brief summaries of these films. So get your popcorn ready... the festivities are about to begin.

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

The 2015 Fabrications: The Secret of Dotting the 'i"

The shocking reveal of the sousaphone player who dots the "i" in the Ohio State marching band.

Sunday, January 11, 2015

The 2015 Fabrications: Cats get a bad rap*

Cats are very nice and friendly and never sneak around or cause troubles.*

Friday, January 9, 2015

Genie Wish List


I've been thinking about writing a lot lately. Not necessarily the process or the results, but the business side. I love writing, but I can't live off it. I love creating, but I hate taking the time to submit or attempt to publish. I just want to write and create and write and live and write. The difficulty with that list is the living part. I can't eat or drink or survive without being able to afford it. So, I have taken to rubbing every lamp I can find, particularly at old antique stores, thrift stores, yard sales, flea markets, etc.
So, when I find that genie, I am prepared for what to ask:

1. A Patron - It would be so nice to have someone to pay me up front to create. At least for a little while. Taking away the need to do the mundane in order to subsist would help alleviate the stresses. Which would be wonderful.

2. An Assistant - Someone to take the things I write and submit them for me. Someone to take the time suck away from me but still help get my writing to those who may want to see it. One can only hope.

and 3. A Cheerleader - Every writer I know is harder on himself/herself than anyone else. And as someone who likes to consider himself a "writer" but who also suffers from severe depression, it would be very nice to have someone around to give a little pep talk when things appear too bleak. Therefore, I can channel that depressive nature into more words.

So, my wish list is ready. Come on, genie... I'm waiting.

Thursday, January 8, 2015

The 2015 Fabrications: The Cow Was Set Up

Mrs. O'Leary's cow was falsely accused of starting The Great Chicago Fire of 1871 by kicking over a lantern in her barn.

Wednesday, January 7, 2015

The 2015 Fabrications: They Might Be... Maybe...

The common story is that alternative and often humorous rock band known as They Might Be Giants took their name from a 1971 movie, but the truth is much weirder.

Monday, January 5, 2015

The 2015 Fabrications: Ben Franklin Saved Rock Music


The influence of Benjamin Franklin helped the resurgence of the mighty Van Halen, including the reunion with lead singer David Lee Roth.

The 2015 Fabrications: God hates squirrels


After years of endless speculation, the Almighty reveals that He does, in fact, hate squirrels.

Sunday, January 4, 2015

The 2015 Fabrications: The Tragedy of Mr. Peanut


At least seven people have died while being employed by Planters as their brand mascot, Mr. Peanut.

Friday, January 2, 2015

The 2015 Fabrications: Traffic Light Eight Ways


The mayor of Tempe, Arizona is presented with one traditionally sacrificed octopus every 10 years which is then consumed in full on the third Tuesday of August.

The 2015 Fabrications: Seeing Marbles

January 2, 2015

In 1912, the second largest marble manufacturer in the United States, Fitzway Works, included, as a special promotion, an eyeball in beginner packs.

Thursday, January 1, 2015

Ring in the new...

I am going to try a little something with this site... I am going to try to write as often as possible on it. I have an idea for a project that I am going to try to flesh out here as well working on some other, random writings.

I think I may attempt to write something every day. This isn't a New Year's resolution or anything like that, just a test to bring a little more ambition to my writing.

So if you follow this blog and you see nothing written for a few days in a row with no explanation why, please pester me about it.