time's up

a minute

later date

would be

difficult

idea pop

into the mind

at the strangest

time’s up

ready for sleep

and it’s tomorrow

out on the porch

right behind

my ears

eyes don’t do

much good

in the dark

time’s up

most likely

most likely

more angry than

anything else

crash

no one hurt

quite the mess

one the way home

most likely

keeping someone

awake worried

without a call

music somewhere

far off in the night

music getting

closer loud exhaust

to match it all

these thoughts

don’t add up too much

of the time spent

cross-eyed thinking

some nights

out on the back porch

is the only remedy

for what has passed

too fast until tomorrow

bring back tonight

until all the sirens

cease until

well

they don’t stop…

wrinkle hand

wrinkled hands now

thirty-one years

what’s been learned

enough ten years ago

now knowing too much

can we ever  know too much

wrinkled hands put down a verse

or a whole thought

no one moves

everyone is asleep…

nothing concluded 169

back wood smoke

and the sound of music
far away carried
by the wind
across the city
 
nearly every sound
the dog goes nuts
and I still think
it’s because
he is a short dog
 
the coffee is strong
because I made it
tonight and not
the usual drive round
the block tonight
 
five minutes
prior to now
still sounds
from outside
across the city
 
new shoes
surprises are
always nice
partner in crime
upstairs just a minute
 
back down
comfortable
being the pair that
will be eternally
nothing concluded
 
only months now
until serial thought
shifts to another
avenue (title)
everything changes
 
so small no
one will notice
until we all
wear microchips
in our pockets
 
maybe we do
and don’t
know it
already in the license
an endless ramble
 
ten years later
same conclusion
            none
to speak plainly
nothing concluded…

only the moon

ee cummings proved how abstract

words can actually be

certainly uncertain about meaning

more than to invoke the spin

it might get dark fast tonight

only the moon shows

through the transparent clouds

overhead seventy-two days

how many cigarettes

have I avoided

and how could I miss

such a horrible habit

someone sick enough

to intensify

the draw

exists in this world

where are we now

some would say the end times

and isn’t that period

supposed to last hundreds of years

why are the rich and powerful

so willing to blow shit up…

write quick(for the record)

not nearly as hot as yesterday

got home from work
picked up the pen
write quick
what else would I do
 
for the record
overhead traffic route
a plane every twenty minutes
and on ground
a train every ninety minutes
been out for the last time tonight
the dog snores on the floor
 
this time only 8 minutes
between the planes
this time around
maybe a circular descent
put it down on a page
if the plane was a pen
anyone else listening
to the night
seeing these words
verbal interpretation
of these strange thought
visualizations wish I could paint
 
for the record
only slept five hours
last night
suppose that’s all I needed…

storm getting closer(for the record)

the rumble in the distance

a storm getting closer
maybe it will cool
this stagnant air
 
for the record
can’t remember the last time
it was this hot here
still drinking hot coffee
out of a mug bought in NH
dog at my feet on the floor
trying to stay cool by a fan
floor is cooler in the kitchen
how can I tell him that
sitting in the western most wing
of this house also white
another rumble and lightening
flashes closer still
heat wave might just break tonight
 
for the record
scent of rain coming through
the windows with the breeze
haven’t moved much
in the last few hours
had other plans until
the pen took my hand
as if it was afraid of the rumble
above the house
and the rain in the trees…

this late

hardly ever this late

night writing retired

years ago on a porch

that no longer exists

in memory alone

have to wait another

ten minutes since

brother left door if you are

looking from the street

remains quiet tonight

inspiration left behind

as if by design

everything from above

falls rapidly approaching

wishing for another trip

down a flight of stairs

somehow not becoming

familiar with surrounding

areas of the mind

field running but getting

tired of the commute…

terrible reign (for the record)

it’s almost tomorrow

thinking about war again
a strange idea
the Solomon solution
bring down the temple
no one will make it through

some terrible reign

for the record
an artist is hard at work
thinking sitting
on the floor at midnight…

shoes on nowhere to go

still got my shoes on but the feet

need to rest for the night

not going anywhere

sleeping downstairs

and it’s so hot I stay awake

could be thunder

or a jet rumbling above the head

deep in the night sky darkness

short thoughts like stray heart beats

just in case I skip one or two

because of an allergic reaction

to something in the air

shorter breaths and eye lids flutter

as if to tell me something

and I am not listening

wanting to see the sun rise

three days in a row

stays with me all day long…

still a puzzle(for the record)

more terror in India

yesterday
who benefits
first question always
who suffers
always the same answer
innocents in the way
and soldiers doing their duty
 
a means to what end
only truth seekers piece
together the puzzle until
it becomes a clearer picture
still a puzzle made up
of half-truths splintered
with boldface lies and rumors
 
for the record
the real motives still unknown
as usual
some sick and twisted formula
no one know how
never mind if it is even meant to work
 
for the record
day two page seven
writing out under
all these numbers might get wordy
does anyone really mind…

long day done(for the record)

it’s raining again

humid and sticky
is there a difference
waiting for my wife
to come home
long day done
at last
 
for the record
no idea where the account
is going maybe still stationary
as I sit puffing like I knew
a magic dragon
and the fireworks
are a week late
destroying the silence
at eleven before the train
pulling into downtown
not by much at all though
as I speak or write or think
all of the above
and then some…

reveal (for the record)

a book for numbers

not so much for words
account books
should contain truth
the hard truth
not always what is told
left for some to discover
and reveal
 
for the record
quitting smoking isn’t easy
don’t let anyone tell you
different
 
for the record
grew up during the birth
of hip hop music
and hip hop culture
and appreciate what it taught
about the truth of our society
 
for the record
thirty minutes has passed
or was it 45
dropping these 9 o’clock bombs
of my own thought
armed with only a pen
and a book with horizontal lines
the most tense thoughts
on future and what it holds
positive ideas pursued
land of negative news
distorting the truth
and hiding it indefinitely
 
for the record
someone has and will call
me a conspiracy theorist
or something like that
but I can’t help it if they
don’t want to think up
a better description
 
for the record
nothing could stop this pen
the thought conveyed in
so many ways now
this might go on all night long
no one will mind at all
from where I sit
on the back porch
east side Brockton, MA
 
for the record
someone powerful
is manipulating the weather
not talking gee OD here
talking man
and I don’t know why
maybe it for the good
those planes in the sky
higher than regular flights
streaks of white
soon-to-be clouds
just notice
tell me I am crazy
 
for the record
this would all be considered
opinion
if it were considered
at all
by anyone claiming
considerer status
 
for the record
the president of the usa
called the constitution of the usa
a gawddamn piece of paper
and the latin words
new world order
are written on the dollar bill
go back to sleep
nothing to see here…

muster one

who is actually independent

just a thought

15 minutes before the fourth

it’s what most of them call it

something else entirely

too tired to be awake any longer

passing out in a desk chair

pen in hand might put an eye out

after midnight now and

fireworks still light up the town

sometimes it takes all the stored

strength to muster one…