every new year

the waves
like years
roll deeper ashore
then recede
like strength
like will
until you must depend
on that which you've sewn
more and more
with every new year
how can a man
take stock over what he's done
for all the holes
every new year
like the last
only more and more
deeper and deeper
the ones cast aside
for all the best intentions
now motionless
in shallow graves
the day logic died
a thousand torturous times
for the sake of the days
became years
like waves
you surrendered autonomy
responsiblity
conviction
unto the ones you thought you loved
the only ones who could ever come close
to loving you
the way you needed to be loved
not love
no
not love
it was convenience
and you said so
love the ones you're with
let the rest
go to fucking hell
it was you
who knew no better
every new year
deeper and deeper
farther and farther away
from the heart
and its slow dance
behind the beat
to the step of a life
lived
in thought
with heart
yes
but at least
with heart

strange fruit

apples
from the tree
outside the gates
of elizium
we bit off less
than we could chew
it meant nothing
real
in a world sheltered
by hands too busy
and tired
to make it real
breathe in
the solution
deeper
the solvent
then rise and shine
a little dimmer
by the hour
by the years
roller skate circles
around
the hot blooded
until the fever slows
you
levels
knocks you down a little further
makes you powerless
lifeless
even
in a heap
like fallen apples
scattered far from trees
still dense
across the fields
lying
like a woman
on a couch
with a migraine
if she is there at all
imagine
a day
your actions
bear fruit

jeux sans frontiers

cue the music
dim the lights
to darkness
scatter the children
to their dream worlds
to disengage
from living
from others
from feeling
anything
in the far right corner
of a sofa
in a barely living room
raise your right arm
then fold it down
across your eyes
closed
then open them
to pure consciousness
forged only of memories
the places you've been
the hugs of a mother
laughter of brothers
in the faces of sisters
in far away lands
the things you could've been
if only you had conviction
father
hide me away
from the ones who won't love
me
father
oh father
make this all go
away
and so your dreams
made real
games
made real
to occupy the places
where others live
don't dream
engage
don't play
and so stare
at the closed eyelids
behind folded right arms
and behold the children
like their father
dreaming lives away
cue the music
live the music
breathe it
until the end
live
here we go again
like waves

and cheering madly

sit in line
chase the tales
of other men
in books
you can stomach
if you find the time
sit in rows
to believe
in something
man-made
you can stomach
if you'll speak in tongues
embrace nonsense
anything other than real
watch tigers chase tails
going nowhere
again
watch
from beer-drenched rows
like waves
to do waves
beckoned by other men
over beers
under the influence
of something
you never wanted
or never knew how to catch
release
sweat out the whole world
in perspiration
the inspiration's gone
let it out
sweat out time
you'd otherwise spend thinking
what you should be thinking about
you know
the things
and people
who'll soon be leaving
the ones who still remain
the reasons
the whys
and the path
without direction
the road
unlaid
and so better
to sit in rows
beer-drenched
not thinking
on thinking
and cheering madly

i'm on the side of good, how the f*ck about you?

cat springs off
counter top
to oblivion
open jaws
death's steely embrace
say when
say uncle
give
give?
everything
black cat
bad luck
gouge the eyes
of superior mothers
mothers superior
dumb dogs
get kicked
get shit
rubbed on your nose
eat it
like chocolate
mmmmm
delicious
gouge away
give
everything
uncle
uncle
you know things
about nothing
and nobody cares
and nobody knows
this is nowhere
yes
the wide open
waiting
jaws
of sickness
inevitable
like a greasy part
right down the middle
of your fucking scalp
swoop
swoop
oh yes
there it is
mutha
fucka

breakfast in america

every time you pull
your buick door closed
to go off
see a different world
if only in language
so fuck it
learn the new language
play the game
feign understanding with a half smile
and a sigh
before people
who'll never understand
in any language
you die a little
in cheap hamburgers
and instant coffee
apple pies
aluminum siding
you push
and you push
the stone for what
for someone
to take notice
for someone to admire
the push
and the pushing
cheap hamburgers
instant coffee
leisure suits
broken language
someone to see you
shine
oh shine
by your terms
on your fields of play
may as well be elizium
for the world to know
for her to care
see you shine
atop the whole world
especially in your heart
beyond language
logic
meaning
and beyond what you can control
still every time you pull
your buick door closed
you just go off....

twin peaks

and as water is to sand
a boy is to a girl
like a bird to the sky
like a candle to the night
he coughs
she hurts
he cries
she pounces
down
he laughs
she takes out knives
to make illusions
for aspiring backstabbers
beware
beware
be gone
he will die
then so will she
if you know what i mean
and you know what i mean
like a rowboat
without oars
upstream
she'll cup her hands
then paddle
she'll cup her hands
then scream
to anyone at all
to catch her fall
after the fall
of the only part of her
that did not blind her eyes
in mirrors
and car windows
be soft
be not unkind
and avoid the wrath
the judgement
the glacier-chilled glare
of her own reflection
cup her hands
then drink
from the well of suffering
bound to run out
just as soon as suffering
signs the cross
on the forehead of a child
and bids the world
adieu
mon vieux
adieu
cup her hands
call out
adieu...
to this beautiful day....

the blood (prologue)

for black
the last colour
like the night
before the light
for yellow
a sun
another
then one final son
and for red
like blood
thicker than water
so you said
thick
as a brick
the blood
in a wave
like a million
waves before
and ever after
goodbye
goodbye...
oh, hello there...
such a beautiful day
hello
hello....

The Untenable Fire

like ghosts
of men
locked in towers
european sons
setting
til night do they part
for mercy
a grace
amazing for its silence
in the wake of so much noise
like someone scratched
the needle across a record
and then lifted it
for goodness sake
for silence
we are seconds
in time
waves
in oceans
in significance
yet we shine
here
alone
like a man in space
for a naive construct
of what is love
or our blindness
in the face
of inevitability
our place
and the perverse magic
in between
color
against the norm
screaming
from beneath waves
like we kick
like we kicked
and we kick
like we kicked
against pricks
we kick
like you kicked
but we kick
against the pricks

the discomfort of belief

when even the view
from the hill
looks the same
and your shadow
surpasses
the travails of sleep
you slip behind the camera eye
put your head
behind hands
once used to conceal
your eyes
in games with children
and
pray
like you did as a child
when you still believed
in something
believed
and the promise of days
greater
than those behind
taken for granted
never again
all hands on deck
brothers
all hands on deck
to behold
the way the dawn
imposes its will
upon the night
after night
by day
proud
defiant
like god
like the boy you were
and remain
if you believe it so
in hiding
ever doubting
yet ever wanting
to impose your will
on days
like god
and nothing less

Children, ye are wicked

children
ye are wicked
playthings of full moons
hollow inside
devoid of good
or light to know the difference
the flip side of good
gone
like a sparkler
killed on the fourth of july
stillborn into this world
that sighs
you are born
another one in
another out
leave your garbage
in a heap
with a hip
and lust frozen
'tween the hips of another
like the time you felt
invincible
impenetrable
infinite
hell
anything at all
children
ye are wicked
like your mothers
like your fathers
like your aunties and uncles
hands covering their ears
and eyes turned in
oh
so far in
hell
the whole wide world
under water
under siege
under the influence
of selfishness
and who gives a flying fuck?
ye are wicked
we are
in hell

tetes petites

oh
we were fools
to believe
what we held
was ever made of gold
fools
but were we wiser
new romantics
fleet of foot
but dumb of youth
words to waste
like summers
and now the leaves have fallen
like wizards
behind curtains
boys
behind mothers' summer dresses
intellects
bound by myths
fallen
stifled then bent
by blue socks
the already fallen
we've already fallen
can't you see
oh say
warm embraces
went cold
the moment you learned
how hot is hot
cold is cold
stop talking
there is only action
that matters
says what is meant
acting out scripts
made up as we go along
in between days
of games
of booze
and self-adulation
this is broken
not bent
broken
stifled by delusions
oh say
we've already fallen
far from grace.

Surprised? More than surprised.... 

Piece of Mind

On Tuesday, September 6, 2005, I commence my new career as a teacher. I'll be teaching Fourth Grade at Walt Disney Magnet School in Chicago. For the first time in my work life history, I am fulfilled. Completely and utterly overwhelmed, but fulfilled. At last.

Gabe the baptist.... 

honor among thieves 

somehow solemn

pushed open the hospital door
with a hip
blew out smoke
from the first drag
of his last cigarette
and the rain drenched
fleeting resolve
ambition
and his three day-old clothes
"you can't kill
what is already dead"
she said
and ever since
he has tried to find a meaning
beyond the meaning
a meaning he can live with
tell people he knows
people who might give a shit
save face
for anyone who could give a shit
even if they don't
how long to live
how long
are we alive to possibilities
when the past has shown
the possibilities
are not endless
and are too rarely realized
put your tongue back in your mouth
close your legs
and wipe away that simple smile
love is cold
and we are old
older than we used to be
show me a face
and i'll find the blemishes
show me your heart
i'll see emotional problems
hints of things to come
things that close doors
things that end
best intentions
good starts
new days
for screaming
going out of our heads
but somehow solemn
show me everything
i'll show you mine
all the things that would end
all that we would start
better yet
better not
we'd just be wasting
precious time
to spend thinking
about sitting here
in the middle of nowhere
beyond hope
beyond the nicotine-stained claws
of time

forza

begin the night
with arms outstretched
tilt my head back
yell yes
yes
to ghosts of chances
around corners
under neon lights
under rain
under the influence
of a dream
of you
you
with your head back
smiling
with all that you are
brown hair
in the air
fanning perfume
set my night ablaze
with feeling
hell yes
i'm alive
to the sun
all that it shows
farewell to the shade
doubts concealed
hearts revealed
yes
to a feeling
stronger
for thinking
on a love
of a dream
of ghosts of chances
to spend the night with you
tonight
and for always
a love
stronger for thinking
of you
with me
ever after
with you

forgetful hearts 

involuntary hiatus

Regrettably, Spirit Rituals has been relegated to the back seat over the last couple of weeks. Not only have I been immersed in my studies toward commencing my career as a teacher this fall, but my youngest son was hospitalized last weekend with an "immature" breathing condition precipitated by an upper respiratory infection. He is gradually doing better now, but suffice it to say I have had little time to separate my mind from matter of late. Gratefully, I have been enjoying school at Northwestern University in what amounts to a crash/accelerated course toward teaching. I've been meeting some interesting, well-intentioned individuals, and although the course and student-teaching loads are increasingly demanding, I've always found that life is substantially more manageable when one lives and thinks day by day and doesn't obsess too much about the mountainous paths ahead. I'd love to be more specific about my course work and my current journey, and perhaps I will do so in time, but any professional student will recall that when you are a student, you are either: 1) in school/commuting to/from school; 2) doing homework; and/or 3) should be doing homework. Alas, under the cloud of such a realization, most other time is wasted time. Of course that is a stretch, somewhat. It's ever interesting to me to encounter fellow students who are single and/or have no kids who gripe about the work load and work/life balance. Not to downplay the relative trials and tribulations of others (and indeed, so much is relative), the time and single-mindedness afforded single/kidless people is, um, just slightly more than that afforded married/with kids people.