Today I stood out in the rain
And didn’t wear my hood.
It was frigid and soggy, yes,
But still felt pretty good.
I stood and looked at nothing much
And let the boredom grow
And those tiny discomforts helped
Much more than you can know.
I talked to her at a bus stop
And watched her walk away.
I’m stronger from the fire, now
A pot instead of clay.
And as I walk home in a pair
Of shoes devoid of style
Empty pockets will warm my hands.
My whole being is a smile.
Filed under Poems
I stand atop the rocky cliff
Above the salty ocean blue
And shout to myself “how lovely
“And beautiful are you!”
I stand atop the rocky shore
Above the crashing waves below
And my echo calls back softly
“Whoa now! Let’s take this slow.”
Filed under Poems
I remember yesterday
When to look at someone was okay,
When an elbow or a shoulder touch
Didn’t mean nearly so much.
I remember yesterday
When a compliment would make her day,
When “you look nice” was not a slur
When casually said by him to her.
I remember yesterday
When a man held doors and asked to pay,
When a bit of gentle care
Was not met with a dour glare.
I remember yesterday
When a guy could idly say
“What’s your number?” and not fear
Her screaming “rape” for all to hear.
So if you remember yesterday
In the aforementioned way
And know its loss would lead to sorrow
Let’s keep the past in mind tomorrow.
Filed under Poems
For everything there is a first:
First kiss, first game, first beer.
For everything there is a last
But we don’t celebrate those here.
For everything there are middles
Unless first and last are the same,
But we tend not to notice these
‘Cause they all seem just the same.
So I challenge you today to share
Your one-thousand-second baseball game,
Your six-hundred and eighth bus ride,
The fourteenth passing of a flame.
You never know how special
The present will someday get.
Besides, people tweet food pics
So you’re still less boring than the net.
Filed under Poems
The pot called the kettle black.
The kettle thought the pot was a racist kind,
But then kettle saw that the pot was black too
And, quoth the kettle, nevermind.
Filed under Poems
I stood out here once before
Seeking what could not be found
Head to toe in the neon cloak of midnight
Listening for the absence of a sound.
I saw humans crawl past empty sidewalks
Burning gas and paying fares
On the way to work that will empower them
To buy their surplus worries and cares.
They seek comfort in a glasses, pills, and needles,
Pray for hope through a politician’s lies.
Paychecks promise them the satisfaction
Of being happy in someone else’s eyes.
Red-eye pilots flee this urban heaven
Carrying those with sense enough to flee.
I just read my scripts and idly wonder
What it’s like to see a real tree.
Filed under Poems
I find it funny that those who fought
For an inclusive ideology
Now think that those with “normal” thoughts
Owe outsiders apologies,
That those who culturally kill their kind
Are morally superior
To those who really do not mind
If you’re black, a chick, or queerier,
That while we wear our pale skin
And external genitalia
If we don’t call these things a sin
Then somehow you think we failed ya.
But I’m content and keen to keep
My straight white male role.
My life I live, my crops I reap
In a neighborhood safe to stroll.
So if you wave your protest signs
They’ll not change how I see.
You will not find me cryin’
Because I know it’s fine to be me.
So please don’t give me an earful.
I’m happy being cheerful.
Filed under Poems
I baked a cake in the microwave,
Forgot my keys, chose not to shave.
I wore white jeans after labor day
And yet somehow I’m still okay.
I woke up at 6:00 and stayed in bed ’til noon,
Thinking both times were a bit too soon.
I left dishes in the sink and clothes on the line
Yet somehow the world turned out just fine.
I freudian-slipped that Rosebud was a sled
And nobody minded or ended up dead.
I’ve done this and more and I won’t lie:
It’s great to be a single guy!
Filed under Poems
Smell the golden ocean’s breeze,
See the twinkling distant shore.
The flashing red of car brakes
Shine like Christmas at sunset.
The city’s sound is footsteps
On a snowy concrete floor.
And in that eternal moment
Life’s as good as it can get.
The Gods look down in wonder
From wherever they may be
And the windy shaking cedars
Loose a low ecstatic moan.
And in that time and space is love
For all the world to see
Except for all the people
Who think “I should check my phone.”
Filed under Poems
Marvel should create someone
Whose a hero with no powers,
Like a non-billionaire Batman
In front of whom no villain cowers.
He should be short and poor and whiny,
Cry a lot and be a victim
And whenever he’s out heroing
The Avengers ask “who picked ‘im?”
He displays no special qualities,
Lacks gadgets, brains, and strength
Which is why those who are like him
Need representation. At any length…
I think the point I’m making
Is while, sure, “Super” is great
We need an Affirmative Action Hero!
(Now your hate mail I await)
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 