Where did all this frustration come from?
We're going to travel out to sea
About 31 Knots in
Until you’re unable to see
The land from which we came
There’ll be only you and me and
I hate to sound cliché
But that's apparently the only way
You'll ever listen to me
Alone on a boat with no one else
To distract you
Snap your fingers to the beat
Like it’s a song by Queen
Caviar and Cigarettes
Dress up fancy like we’re going
To the opening of a VIP Art Gallery
Sol Lewitt's Final Piece
Keep your head up high
The War won't last as long as
The General says
Rome wasn't built in a day
But London was most certainly
Burned down in three
Despite what you think
I’m always listening
Never forget what we discussed
Out in sea
Seasonal Home-front
We're moving out to Autumn
To get away from this heat
The leaves are coming
But they're going to have to
Adjust and change
To the cooler breeze
I'm leaving behind
All my bright colors
In exchange for a more
Natural look
Dark red
Dirty orange
And plenty of leather brown
Your mother wants to move again
This time to Winter
I told her I hear it's rough there
If you aren't prepared
And I don't know if I am
With this current economic situation
I'm not quite sure I'm generating enough
Heat warmth security
To make it through a dark white night
In the town of Winter
I don't know about you kids
But living off of cocoa
Doesn't sound too good for the bones
I knew Winter was a bad idea
Maybe we'll find a better life
Out in Spring
The money isn't needed as much
And we won't have to worry
About personal expenses
Involving entertainment
Since the local community
Is apparently pretty friendly
Lots of fields
Lots of flowers
Should be good for the muscles
Maybe Spring will be
Where your mother and I will
Retire
Back to Summer so it seems
Spring wasn't what it was
Made out to be
I miss this town though
It keeps me going
It keeps me moving
I feel like I have a perfect figure
Whenever I'm living in the town
Of Summer
I don't know why we ever left
Transit
Showtime!
I’m heading out to the NHP Train Station,
I don’t know why you didn’t pick Garden City,
To pick you up from what you’re currently
Describing as “My most unfortunate adventure
To the rest of the East Coast”
I say you’re overreacting,
The rest say I never give you the benefit of a doubt.
People should mind their own business,
Maybe I should take that advice too.
Marlboro Man helps me through the day,
Jack Daniels picks me up at night,
But you, you prefer no help.
You chose the rabid East Coast and
I chose the comfort of the South.
We’re two very different people
Sharing a similar World.
I find that idea amusing but yet
You find it agitating.
When will you learn,
Not everything works in your favor
And I think we both can agree
The NJ transit is a perfect example of that.
No one will disagree about the hectic arena
Coliseum, most call Penn Station.
Women aren’t everything.
When will you learn?
Friends before Lovers
Family before the Rest
Blood is thicker than Wine
Maybe one day you’ll figure it out.
Maybe one day in Penn Station
It’ll hit you like a ton of bricks
Or to be cliché, a train.
You’ll look so lost and confused,
Just like a tourist’s first trip to NYC.
Maybe one day you’ll realize
You’ve got all that you need
Back at home.
Pepper
Illustrations and drawings always
Seem to make Peppers
Perfectly smooth
With the trademark slight curve,
But in reality smoothness
Is far from the truth.
Bumps, bruises and nature’s
Individual details cover
The thin spicy vine of the salsa world.
Wearing a tomato type top
With the stem dropping out
Reminds me of a sombrero on top
Of a worker’s head,
Relaxing in the shade,
Tequila filling his mouth as his soul
Fills with euphoria from the local
Acoustic guitar.
Oh pepper,
You give my tongue the extra kick
Of hotness, emotion and lust
I need to perform the tango with
My love.
The Legend Says…
They were on a freight train
Heading for a hole in the wall
In some direction
Neither of them is aware of.
Two hobos filled with the blues
Sitting in the cold
Listening to rich man blues
Through a discarded record player.
They’ll never be top chefs
But wait, what is all around them!?
Vegetables, fruits, some meat too?
These two lost men must have
Ended up on a train heading to the rich
Folks on the South Shore.
The rest of the train ride was filled with
Laughter, jazz and the best
Vegetable and meat soup you’d ever find
On a freight train heading to the South Shore.
Cooked, created and loved the
Newman’s Own Way.
Even the homeless have good taste buds.
Profession
You’re brutal, fine chef.
What did the cow ever do to you?
Nothing, Kind Sir.
I just love the taste of tender meat.
Why do you cut those
Flowers and wrap them in a bow?
Because Mother Nature’s wardrobe
Is terrible, I’m merely helping her
Win the fashion show.
Your art makes men cry
And yet you’re a stone, why?
My parents carved me the way
I am today.
Hunched over and chiseled,
My art is a rock’s inner beauty.
Oh, fat cat.
It seems as though you’ve
Become a stray, how come?
The life of a cat is not one
You’ll ever come to understand.
Adopt another to continue
The chain of Master Vs Slave.
Lastly, I ask you Father,
Where did your crooked smile
And bent up anger stir from?
Despite what you know of my past,
You’ll never quite grasp the mere
Passion and Pain of a past lover’s
Soul I lost to the thunderstorm.
The Clown Says
Her father was a jester.
He was a joker.
Man with tricks up his sleeve.
Constant laughter.
I never found him funny.
He gave me a mug from
The circus
Shaped like a clown face,
“Use it for milk & cookies,”
I used it for rum & whiskey.
Frequent laughter.
I never found him funny,
In that way.
How could I, knowing
What he used to be, an emotional
Butcher
To my wife and her mother?
Hiding behind that makeup,
Twisted,
I see through the powder.
Bright red lips,
Covering lustful secrets.
I know she’s not just your
Co-worker.
When will you see Clown?
You’re not a dog.
I know you can learn new tricks.
Show me.
Amuse me.
I know you can make me laugh
In the way you’re supposed to
But only if you try not to act
So pathetic.
Please don’t send in the clowns
I’d rather watch the circus burn down.
Random Thoughts of Mine
Butterflies have always been
My psychologists in nature
Beautiful from afar,
Ravage and repulsive up close.
Emerald eyes.
Pink frosting dress.
Yellow rose.
I can never forget the date of
August 15th.
The night we threw out our contract
Of friendship
And decided to make a new one
Under the profession of lovers.
My mother fought a sailor once
To stop a tsunami.
You’ll understand when you’re older,
I’m no liar,
Just a tall tale teller.
I speak in riddles, mysteries and sometimes
Metaphors, distracting you from the
Main point of my story.
Why does the sky only shine for you?
Not that I’m complaining of course
But you just seem to always achieve
Success when it comes to calling out
The sun.
How frequent do you think
The world is allowed to complain?
Once a week?
Once a month?
Once every few years?
Never?
Who really knows where
These atoms are going.
By atoms, I mean my feelings of course.
The Importance of being Idle
Sometimes you should just
Step to the side.
Let the cannon ball fly past you
Instead of being the brave idiotic
Soldier, who stands his ground
And takes the black iron
To the chest.
Sometimes it is best
To let your lover go to rest.
Hand her over to God,
He’ll know what is best.
Sometimes the smartest move
You can make is by backing your
Queen up a few spaces.
Don’t let the enemy take what is
Most precious to you.
Don’t ever fall into that checkmate.
Letting the forest burn down
In hopes a thicker greener forest
Will grow, can possibly be
Best for all of you as well as
Mother Nature.
You’re letting her grow that beard
Back in thicker.
Grown Up
We used to sit on the kitchen floor
Playing with the alphabet magnets,
Calling each other names and
Debating over who was better at
Street Fighter II.
I don’t care what you say,
When I play as Ryu
You stand no chance.
We used to try our best to study mathematics.
You’d read under the stars
While I chose the district stop lights.
Now you’re majoring in philosophy
And I’m on my way to master marketing.
Where did we go right
In this world of mass confusion?
Was it the chemistry explosion
Or the extra credit in History?
We used to write once a week
But I guess everyone was right.
Everything changes.
Water will continue to boil
Even when you’re gone.
Last I heard you were in the Peace Corps
Training third world victims
How to read and speak ‘properly’
And if you care to know,
I’m currently Down Under,
Doing what exactly? I’m not entirely sure
But I’m needed here
But I’m wanted here
But I guess I just miss how things were.
Your Friend’s Address
The house is a hand me down only due to rent
Jenga, blues, puzzles and funk.
A little booze to go with your smoke.
Balcony cigarettes have above the garden
While a refrigerator sits on the porch.
These empty PBRs tell the story
Of a home away from home.
Gracing friends and foe
With good tunes, jokes
And course,
Meatloaf.
How couldn’t you love fresh grown squash?
Homemade soup and wine?
A couch so comfortable your back sinks in
And you won’t want to move?
The random little occurrences when your shirt
Matches the pattern around you?
Or the way everyone greets you despite the fact
Some of them may not even know you?
You’ll come accustomed
To a home away from home,
Whether you realize it or not
Because when you’re welcomed,
Why the hell not?
Just watch your step in that kitchen
Because sometimes
A game of darts can be dangerous
But not even close to how dangerous
It can be
When someone is trying
To slap that bitch
Like she owes him money.
Autumn Blues
We were stereotypes
Driving with the top down
Blasting the radio,
Listening to Elvis sing.
You told me
Your calendar marked
Off the days until you could die.
I never kept a calendar.
I still remember
When you asked me to the rooftop
A quarter past midnight.
Autumn roaring,
Shaking its orange, red, yellow
And brown mane.
The city rooftops couldn’t
See down far enough
To know what beauty
They were missing.
The moon and stars out,
On the roof
You were dancing in an
Emerald green dress
With no shoes.
Emerald green will always be your color.
Your every dance move went perfectly.
Bobby D, Sinatra and Cash
Brought out your
Autumn Blues.
We were stereotypes
With nothing to lose.
As I stand there
Half smiling,
In my Father’s tux
The city trains roaring
As I hold tightly
A bottle of our
Favorite pink champagne
Waiting for your kiss
And to make love
Confirming our status
As teenage stereotypes.
This Family Means All The More to Me
Scenery has never been my thing.
There's a house on a hill where a family lives.
Snow hasn't fallen for over seven years
But that's okay!
The family has no concern for Global Warming.
By the time the North Pole has melted
And Santa is swimming
In between the sky scrapers of Manhattan,
They'll be long and gone.
It's okay in the town of Sommerville,
Where all the county's sugar cane is grown.
They'll be long and gone when ice no longer exists naturally.
The scarecrow in the field
Was the most dressed
Member of the family
With the least intentions of a career.
You seem to be forgetting
What goes on the inside of a child's soul.
Mixtures of Crayola colors,
Fresh baked cookies, snow angels, scraped knees,
Hopes of finding four leaf clovers,
Bed time stories and imaginary friends.
I'm sorry you missed out on all of that in your childhood.
If it'll make you feel better,
We can go to the supermarket,
Arts & crafts shop and bookstore.
I'll bake the cookies, pack a meal,
We'll travel out West to the sunflower fields, s
Setup a picnic, paint the scenery
And read each other children's stories
Until it's time to leave.
