From up here

I saw Christmas lights from
My plane tonight,
Aisle 4, window D,
Switch backing from green
to blue,
red to white,
Flying from bright light
To bright light.

From up here,
Street lights look like foot steps,
Up one side and
Down the second–
Evenly spaced like a
Slow moving neighbor
Takin’ his time on a
Saturday afternoon.

Next time I’ll take acid first.
The flight will be more interesting
And blinking lights
Will make the world
Spin a bit faster.

Santa has to land somehow–
But not before a trip to
Birmingham
Prague
Moscow
Denver
Seattle
Los Angeles
New York
Las Vegas
My livingroom
Prison
Court
Six feet under.

I hear the city lights are
Stunning this time of year.

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Ending the challenge

I’ve figured that since I’ve FINALLY figured out what I want to do for my first poetry collection, I will let the year long challenge slide. I’ll be working on my project from here on forth, and posting the occasional poem when I need to decompress.

I won’t give it away, but this collection will be a five part series on the large topics of perception and reality.

imagine forth, my friends.

Tequila Sands – Day 7

Losing sleep beneath pearled skies, willows whisper as sands move
in time with the wind, grains
snake down the wet coast in
sensual curves,
like the arch of a woman’s back,
like the inside of a knuckle,
bent and lined with cracks,
running edge to edge
like the laugh marks above her cheek
that prove she loves to dance
with strangers when the bar pours
heavy and the cigarettes are free–

Little Men – Day 4

We take the leap, we take it fast-

ticking watches, hour glass.

We break the bread and mold our men

into walking Johns and Abrahams

who lead us nowhere, safe and strong

to fight in battles, right or wrong.

and now I lay me, soft to sleep-

I pray the lord my soul to keep

for if john fights and causes harm,

at least I’ll always have the farm

on which we raised our little boys

to play and tinker with little toys-

tiny guns and men of war

are scattered all across the floor,

and legos left and right, I see,

are putting holes in little feet–

They’re putting holes in you, and me.