Month: December 2012

12/18/12 2:29pm – 12/18/12 3:55pm

pearland municipal court

all there is to do is think while in line waiting.
my ears perk to heated conversations.
making it hard to concentrate on my own
reasons for waiting.

although we are all here for different reasons
nothing good is at the end of our wait.
not even the infant who’d baked in her teen
mother’s car is excited to wait.

how many more occasions will find me
standing on this same marble floor waiting?
how many before i learn this building is
never worth the wait?

12/18/12 6:04pm – 8/6/13 5:06pm

the last word in
(take his money as a sign)
(to my pleasant surprise)

it only took four years
to get the last word in
for it to come full circle
from where we started then

i’d sat here ever since
waiting to get even
trying to tip the scales
taking it on the chin

i’d put him out my mind
knowing his days grew thin
& to my pleasant surprise
with time now’s become when

i won’t be there to see
his tiny violin
but take comfort knowing
it’s i who wiped his grin

he didn’t make good on his
so i got the last word in
take his money as a sign
of where we did once begin

12/14/12 11:07am – 1/2/13 10:33pm

wherever they aren’t
(what is becoming of me has always been coming to me)

feel free to quote me.
not because i will forget, but rather to
remind me of who i was after my
shadow casted is no longer recognizable.

like the friends i’ve lost touch with
please send my regards.
wherever they aren’t i hope they are
happy to not be there.

who i am now can not speak for who i
will become, but at the moment who i
am is fine with how the course is being
ran.

fine with the lack of ownership over
the walls i rest between.
fine with no forseeable grandchildren
to offer my mother & father.

facing in a direction completely inward
with little to show for it.
aware of only what brushes against
my body from within these pockets.

always having a moment to spare.
never having a moment too dull.
with no sign of stopping for a quick
way to break the silence.

but only a fool would believe he has
any more ownership over who he is
than over the walls he temporarily
rests between.

i had little say in the enviroments
production of me & will have little say.
my only choice in the matter whether
to breathe through my nose or mouth.

from the weighing of my options
watch the way i work transforming
i’m slipping into the morning
on my back into adoption

into the first glimpse of a state
where she doesn’t keep me around
to write about making her wait
instead of coming to lie down

or into the last name taken
with inheritors to awaken
after following thirty-three
turns out to be them chasing me

& let me be the first to say
what’s coming will be the day
that I regret wishing the grey
would come much sooner than late

every instance that could be chalked
up to pure coincidence.
but is now known better than to insult
what is well designed.

every ounce of luck that i’ve squeezed
into half empty glasses to tip the scales.
but not knowing who to begin asking
what will be the catch.

what is becoming of me has always
been coming to me.
& every measured ounce & instance
moves what will closer to what is.

by the time i come back to this i may
be reading it for the first time.
but no sense lies in watching grass
grow to kill time until hair does the same.

12/12/12 12:10pm – 12/14/12 10:32am

sheer accident
(the unrealized title)

to say there is nothing left to be said
goes against everything those before us
spoke of.
t is the letter of the alphabet my left hand
accidentally typed.
o-d-a-y are the letters i will follow it with,

because today whether by sheer accident
or divine fate marks occurred events that
will mold us in a way that only today can.
the sweetest songs to have never been
written are to be wrote some day by today.

most of us haven’t the conscious effort
to process it’s bigger picture until
tomorrow is already with us.
m is the letter of the alphabet fate
working through my right hand typed
o-o-d are the letters it will follow it with.

because mood is today carried with us.
the unrealized title given to unslept
upon feelings.
& if the only noise we make of these
feelings is of those before us rolling in
their graves or of those after us rolling
in their wombs it is at least a new noise.

12/12/12 9:52am – 12/13/12 2:30am

what i at second erase
(fathered them all)

well whose words are they if not mine?
in my second guessing it is only myself
denying myself.
if i value what i at very first wrote i
must value what i at second erase.

who am i now to predict the flatness of
notes not yet pushed out?
from the lungs, to the vocal chords, to
the tongue, to the lips leaves plenty of
room for deviations from the planned.

are they not all welcome in my home?
from the flattest lows to the sharpest
highs i’ve fathered them all.
they may have entered by window, but
are free to unlock the front door.

whose signiature is nowhere to be
found when the sound of their own
voice is played back?
if i value what i at very first wrote
i must value what i at second speak.

12/11/12 1:20am – 12/12/12 1:16am

not to talk about the weather
(the fat of my day to day)

not to talk about the weather, but my
breath’s become visible once again.
this is the only time of the year it
proves it’s own existence.

more than anything else minute i hate
the dull biting of the cold.
my body’s heat does it’s best to bounce
between fabric & flesh in defense.

enjoyment is taken out of what few
every day tasks i look forward to.
the fat of my day to day; trimmed
to reduce exposure.

conversations; cut short to waving
hello & goodbye in one swift motion.
my stride longer; my head down;
together in distancing the elements.

showers; few & far between.
layers; leaving empty hangers behind.
iced drinks; losing their appeal.
pets; wearing dumb miniature sweaters.

flu shots; readily available.
distant family; less distant.
visibility of my breath is no consolation.
you can not pass soon enough.

12/8/12 10:46am – 12/8/12 12:55pm

complimenting furniture

these glasses allow me a chance to see
my surroundings for what they are.
removing them more than crosses my
mind.

they do look much better resting on
this table than they do upon my nose.
complimenting furniture instead of bone
structure.

the red indentation their weight leaves
between my eyes stands as a reminder
of where they once sat.
to view it more than crosses my eyes.

in it’s fading i see the absurdity of not
wearing what’s not trying to hide in
plainsight.
inducing headaches to humor myself.

not knowing which way to view it is a
good problem to have.
with eyes much bigger than a stomach
before & after glass magnified.

with & without are giving me a
headache in their own ways.
the lines blurred both literally &
metaphorically are my own doing.

12/8/12 10:35am – 12/9/12 11:44am

an old address

losing my place on the page restarts me,
but on the wrong foot.
the awkward moment when you can’t
be certain if here is where you left off.

never can you get back what the initial
break in concentration took.
returning to an old address in hopes of
keys finding familiar locks.

the page reads differently than it did
before the accident.
neither worse or better than before.
just different.

12/8/12 6:11pm – 12/11/12 1:15am

got me pegged
(having a laugh beneath their breath)

no man or woman should ever be made
to feel any less for not meeting a gender
specific description.
feminine & masculine are two words
that mean far more now than they did
when they were first spoke.

words that were only meant to help
paint a picture are now backing us into
corners instead.
are there not enough corners to paint
ourselves into without having to resort
to using language against ourselves?

the way that we are dressed can’t
possibly be the most interesting part of
their day.
if so then i am afraid that they are in
great need of a muse to amuse
whatever void we are filling.

being asked by my significant other to
briefly hold a purse does not embarrass
me, but a phantom feeling goes through
the motions.
reminding me of what at one time i
was made to feel.

to think of her or anyone’s load not
lightened for the sake of what others
might say to themselves.
what terrible use of a watchful eye to
look for those who might have a laugh
beneath their breath.

the only thing that would keep us is
the threat of anticipating others.

12/4/12 1:43pm -12/8/12 3:33am

self-portrait in disguise
(the something that i said)

though he tried to hear you out
it’s come out a self-portrait
waiting for moving lips to stop
to start as soon as yours shut

turning words into a mirror
when it’s not her turn just yet
your catching her reflection
no matter the surface met

he never seems to know
because he does not care to ask
seeing the most that he could hope
wearing his own face as a mask

please extend a helping hand
while we’re hanging by a thread
but she’s in the mood to sew
from the something that i said