“He drinks his coffee and he dreams.” Mahmoud Darwish the vinyl of the diner bench stuck to my back while the rousing essence of burnt coffee settled my restless feet as the growl of his two-packs-a-day voice calmed my mind reminding me that the world is still beautiful his worn fingertips traced the grooves etched [...]
Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category
Diners at 2am
April 5, 2010
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April 4, 2010
the intoxicating san pedro breeze floating across he hill dazed me just like the ghost of his lips as they pulled me from the darker corners of my mind we sat and watched the roll of each incoming wave and listened to the passing gulls when he stilled those fidgeting fingers in his grey curls [...]
Opposite Directions
April 3, 2010
“A pain stabbed my heart as it did every time I saw a girl I loved who was going the opposite direction in this too-big world” – Jack Kerouac Following the fog to San Francisco, I knew I wouldn’t stay long. Kerouac and Steve Allen drift from shot speakers. Talking about Jazz. There was no [...]
Poem “I can’t lasso the moon”
April 2, 2010
I can’t lasso the moon. Can’t pick the right sandwich so you can dream about brunettes. But I can strip ribbons from the lining of my heart to feed the rusty typewriter abandoned on your desk. Then you can fill each blank page with every mistake I’ve handed power to. Especially on those nights you [...]
Poem “You bought bottles of my shampoo”
April 1, 2010
You bought bottles of my shampoo Wanting me to feel welcome Though I’ve never felt anything but out of place in your world Handing me an ashtray as I sit on your balcony We watch the clash of people walking across Venice Beach And share a cup of coffee Finishing the Sunday crossword Laughing at [...]
Tom Waits
December 1, 2009
some mornings i ease in to you enjoy you sip by sip finding stability in the sweet drip of your full rich voice i perk up when i sense your subtle strength you accompany me in the quiet moments when the jostling of mourning doves knocks blossoms off the trees and the thud of the [...]
Lena
November 17, 2009
you surround me like a prison you cover tempt and taunt me with your flawlessness perfection at every corner and junction obscene in your purity and so bare no projection of the mind could ever penetrate or mold you my fingers s t r e t c h tracing every groove gazing at the canvas [...]
Julia (hopefully this buys me time)
November 1, 2009
you pick at a worn shoelace getting up for more water you watch dancing leaves lemon-ginger kisses smooth the worry from my mind and your words fall onto overwhelmed ears as raw as low-fi LPs and just as sweet we fit like the homesick hand turning a familiar doorknob greeted by stacks of books and [...]
coming back home
November 1, 2009
five boxes holding five years of lost dreams thrown with two and a half years of higher education and a record collection makeshift bookcases lean against a faded wall next to an old bed my dad wasn’t ready to welcome me home but he tried while unpacking he pulled out an old record and remembered [...]
Opposite Directions
November 1, 2009
Following the fog to San Francisco, I knew I wouldn’t stay long. Kerouac and Steve Allen drift from shot speakers. Talking about Jazz. There was no message that I was home, besides faint Billie Holiday and her copy of Naked Lunch, carelessly thrown on top of my bag. -September 13, 2009 (edited November 1, 2009)
