Tag Archives: Poetry

Every Blistering Second

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Every blistering second

Count down from 10 to nine

Hold my breathe

I think it will be alright

Nine to eight

Walk forward again

Push through the door

Early rather than late

Eight to seven

Straighten myself up

Give all I am given

Seven to Six

The frustration and challenge

Getting worn in

Just for kicks

Six to five

Hold my head up

Stay alive

Five to four

Only 3 more

Four to three

Look everyone in the eye

From your heart let it be

Three to two

Now I am alone here

I must see this through

Two to one

One more and I am done

One to zero

Manhattan Avenue

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On a Tuesday afternoon

I start to feel my hope slip away

Just a bit

It’s that tiny voice it will say

To drudge on in a world uncertain

Don’t give up now

Please don’t pull the curtain

But when I walk down the street

My heart heavy in my chest

The little voice can’t be heard

Can’t be heard anymore

Even when I give it my best

I try to reinvigorate what may be lost

Walking on Manhattan Ave

Damn rents got me down

On such high costs

That I just have to focus on breath

In and out

I can make it through this day

I have not one doubt

I must rekindle the light words

That once rung in my ears

What was once a mighty roar

I just now barely hear

Satisfied Corruption

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Satisfied corruption

Don’t take someones word

On automatic assumption

Humanity will rise and fall

Some will tell the truth

Others a false call

Will ring on every persons ears

The willing or unable

Confident or full of fear

It is this small eruption

Will ill will

Built in conjunction

When you are on the receiving end

Beaten down

Will and resilience must not bend

It will happen on a Monday

Or Today

Or any day

For the needs of the liar

Will surely set

Your belly on fire

Certain Quiet

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A Sunday morning in the city
The guys and girls
Sleeping in
From Saturday night
Getting pretty
The overachievers getting up
Getting to church
The streets have a certain quiet
A feeling of recovery
While the artists
Are up early
Catching great views
Hanging out window cells
And shooting
Music videos

Merchandise Mart

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The buildings here are really beautiful
This is merchandise mart
The speaker blares out
Doors closing
Back in Chicago
Somehow my perception of the city
Changes as I grow old
The same conversations
Over the same topic
Just new faces
Said in new ways
The brown line seems so quiet
Around this time
A Saturday in January
This is a brown line train to kimball
It seems there is always the smell of chocolate on this stop
Dried salt stains and sand on top
It’s the same city
I am different now

Humanity it’s Entirety

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Sometimes we just need help

A four letter word

That keeps me from running to far off

On days

Where my pants are dirty

My mind worries

Where the next paycheck is coming

So I find myself running

Not with my feet

Constant thoughts

But then I get some help

It comes in any form

Off the beaten path and more the norm

These small gestures I suggest

Mean more day to day

Take sullen weights off my weary chest

I muse myself that the world can see my needs

Humanity in its entirety

Knows what I need

So I just have to remain steady

Hold on hope

That I can persevere

Through the sleepless nights

And life will return back

Resuming that it will be alright

Guided Indecision

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My life is a not a series of beautifully crafted paths
It is as guided by decision
As by indecision
Commitment
And fear
It holds back for no one
No waiting for the clear
Life simply occurs
I react
Doing my best
Given what my limits of knowledge are
I go forward
I try not to look back
Focus on progress
And somehow
Eventually
I make it work

The January Cold

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All these days seems the same

Feels like I crawl into a cart

Slide along the tracks

The same mono train

Colors look the same

Pale blue sky grey mist lines

At least through my eyes

I see the limestone steeples

Flanking amongst the light rain

Reaching to the skies

I can find some solace

In these remembrances

Go through the motions

So this is how I bring in the new year

Eyes closed hoping not to hear

News of things good and bad

Today is just a day to remember a great soul

As I walk toward the steeple

In the January Cold

A New Year

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Early morning callings

Waking up from dreams

Rain hits glass soft clipping steam

I think of what 2015 brings

2014 brought many things

New life

Loss of life

Friends

Reminding me that not every new year

Is your friend

But with age comes time

And with time age

Lives are born

While others taken away

So I lay in bed

2 days into the new year

Hope for the best

Hold back my fears

Of what time may bring me

with the New Year

Continual Postage

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Continual postage

Send me on my way

Held back

Deferred another day

What can send me out

Into the world

Hurled out with no precise measure

Regardless of challenges or pleasures

This will be my postage

Paid upon sending

I have paid it due

For once my stamp is applied

I must see myself through