A Poem for 052809

A Necklace of Bees

I feel like
mourning black
should drap
my frame,
fill my closet,

for the death
(and could it
be described
in any other way?)
of the past
that wasn't,

or couldn't be,

hangs around
my neck
like bees
strung on a line,
still buzzing,
still angry

and in a moment
I will walk again
through the real
front door
not the one
in my head,
in the past
that never was
or the present
that isn't,

just mist
and shadows
filling the rooms
of my mind

and I'm angry
like the bees,

and we are stinging

and I'm smiling
like I did
so long ago

and the silt
at the bottom
of this lake
has been stirred
up, obscurring
something,

something
that I can feel
if I reach down

and now that
i've found it
again

now that I'm
touching it
again

i'm not
going
to let go

Going Home

So, I'm planning a trip back to Rochester, Michigan, where I was born. I lived there until I was 18 and then went off to college. I continued to come back in the summer and for various other holidays and weekends (I had a girlfriend at the time who was in Rochester while I was in East Lansing, so there was a fair amount of back and forth during my freshman year!).

Anyway, I haven't been back to Rochester since 1992. Yep, 1992.

I haven't set foot in Michigan since 1994. Yep, 15 years.

While I am there, I plan to hang out with old college and high school friends, most of whom I have not seen since I left.

I have booked my plane ticket, the plans for the weekend are slowly coming together and I have to say that my excitement for this trip is pretty much off the scale. I'm much more excited than I thought I would be.

Perhaps this is some sort of mid-life crisis of nostalgia? Could this be my little red sports car?

Maybe. Maybe not.

But I can tell you this: I sure hope those people have not aged into major douchebags.

That would suck.

I mean, I'm exactly the same, right?

Great Day To Go To The Beach

If you live in Northern California, yesterday was a great day to go to the beach.

Sunny, slight breeze coming in off the Bay and it was about 65 degrees. Adults are wearing long sleeve shirts and kids are playing in the water...which, to an adult is freaking freezing, but to a six year-old or four year-old seems absolutely perfect.

You should have seen the amazing, "indestructible" sand house with three reinforced sand and seaweed seawalls.

Truly a wonder of modern architecture!

Use The Damn Tunnel

Funny thing about the Bay Area, if you drive from Oakland through the tunnel on Highway 24 (headed toward Walnut Creek) the weather generally gets warmer.

Well, we drove through the tunnel today and BINGO, fifteen degrees warmer and sunny.

Brilliant.

Had a fantastic day climbing around on the giant boulders in Rock City. Climbed to the top of Sentinel rock and had a panoramic view of Mt. Diablo State Park and the surrounding area. Then we drove to the top of Mt. Diablo (3800-ish feet). On a clear day you can see all the way to Half-Dome (135 miles away), though not today.

Sweet day.

The kids had a ball clamoring around on big rocks, and mom and dad got a taste of the kind of fear that only a parent would understand.

But...no blood, no broken bones and not one single fall. No one even slipped. The kids seem to have a healthy sense of fear and a general concern for their own well-being (thank gawd!).

They both want to go back tomorrow and climb and hike and explore.

Gracious!

Foggy, Windy, 50 Degrees

This three day, holiday weekend is supposed to be the unofficial beginning of summer, but it's foggy, windy and 50 degrees.

If this is summer, summer sucks.

I seem to have some memories of summer's past, when I was a kid, and I don't remember foggy, windy and 50 degrees.

Pretty sure I wouldn't have memories of swimming, canoeing, water balloon fights, endless games of basketball, soccer, touch football, etc. if it had been foggy, windy and 50 degrees.

What gives?

Who's the friggin' moron who ordered up this crap, anyway?

Oh Man.

So, I'm at the gym and I'm on the elliptical machine and they have these little TVs and I flip the thing on, start channel surfing. My choices are: a trio of 24-hour news channels, Martha Stewart, two ESPNs, several soap operas and Family Feud.

Ugh.

So I put the TV on channel 8, not really knowing what it is because they're at commercial.

Well, the show starts and I get Ty Pennington and his annoying crew on their way to do an Extreme Home Makeover. Inside of about two minutes, I'm all teary eyed because the family they are helping has a daughter who, at age 11 days (or some similarly insane age) had to have a heart transplant. Ok, I'm a sucker for these poor babies facing unreasonable challenges and coming through it.

What's my point? That ABC works really hard to pull your heart strings? That I was nearly crying on the elliptical machine in the middle of the YMCA on a Friday afternoon? That god is a bastard for putting a kid through all this?

I have no idea.

Five, Yes, Five.

I've had five people tell me they cried while reading the poetry in The Bones of Saints Under Glass.

Two said they cried while reading "The Other One Stopped." Two cried while reading "Swimming in Beauty and Light." And one cried while reading "Robots and Rivers."

Do you have any idea how good that feels? What that means to a poet?

I want to thank all five of them, truly, from the bottom of my thanking apparatus. I also want to thank everyone else who has bought a copy of Bones.

Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.

Another Good Day For A Poem

I Met a Girl Named Deluxe

she isn’t a stripper
though you might
not know it
just by reading
the curvesof her cover

she’s a stenographer
a word
I had to look
up, thinking
they were all
extinct

and a scientologist
which makes
me wonder
what it would take
to impress
her

she wears boots
that are perhaps
too high
for her profession
but all the judges
give her a pass

they are men

and her skin
such a mystifying
tone, her breasts
defy
both gravity
and logic

I met Deluxe
on a Friday

the 13th

she is the black
pussycat
crossing my path
to disastrous
result

Seriously.

How can  a movie called "X-Men Origins: Wolverine" be such a flaming pile of poo?

Looking Forward

How many people can honestly say they are living in the now? How many "living in the now" moments do you have in a day? In a week?

Most of the time we're busy looking forward to something. The next vacation...the end of the work day...that first beer of the night...the new DVD coming from Netflix. Something.

Or we're thinking about something that has already passed. Last night's great sex...a killer concert...the last vacation...that thing you said to your son that you really wished you hadn't said and would take back if you had a chance to relive that moment.

Hopes. Regrets. Joys. Heartbreaks.

Does the present even exist?

Have You?

Have you visited me on Facebook? Are we Facebook friends?

Hmm...ok.

Have you bought my book?

Why not? It's really easy. You just click on the amazing picture to your left. Yes, the one of the bird skeleton. That's the actual cover of my book, artwork by Hosho McCreesh (who is an amazing poet in his right).

You haven't bought it yet, have you?

Seriously? Why not?

I want you to send me an email and explain to me why you haven't bought my book yet.

nibblepoems@gmail.com

Go on. Go.

Go.

The Heat is On

The temperature shot up to the high eighties on Saturday and the low nineties on Sunday. As has been the case in years past, whatever it is I'm allergic to loves the freakin' heat. My allergies went ballistic over the weekend.

Another reason to be glad about work: air conditioning. Not only am I not uncomfortably hot and sweaty while at work, but my allergies are subdued under these artificially cool conditions.

Hurray for work! Hurray for work!

Yippee...

Thank you, Sir.

Hey Now, Jeff...

 

Really digging your new chap...Joie is too, I bought one for her too...amazing to see her kids taking a shine to particular pome tomes in your book...Joie is reading it aloud to them...her daughter's raving fave happens to be mine--The Youngest One Stopped.   I really dig Ratchet...charmingly reminds me of the old South Side of Chi Town relatives in the Old Neighborhood when I was a boy.  Swimming in Beauty and Light is a heartfelt gem.  Lots to really get into and dig dig dig in your new one.  Congrats.

 

Your Cohort in the Craft,

  Robert M. Zoschke

Thank you, Robert.  You are a poet and a scholar and a fine judge of talent (ahem).  The chap he is writing about is called The Bones of Saints Under Glass and you can get it HERE.

And if you buy Bones and Poieses you pay no additional shipping.  And Poieses is a massive tome of a magazine with something like 54 poets.  Read the review of this amazing book HERE (just scroll down about halfway).

 

The Pukes

Well, I was home the last two days with Cameron who had some sort of stomach bug. There was some vomiting: once at school, once in the bushes at Henry's school, and twice in the car.

In the car. That really stinks.

He's feeling a lot better now. Back to school this morning. Fingers crossed that Henry doesn't get it and knock wood that I don't get it. Maybe I'll cross a few toes for myself as well...

This morning, on the way to school, we had a conversation about all the different ways to say vomit. Here's what Cameron came up with:

vomit

throw up

Here's what I added to the...discussion:

puke

ralph

up chuck

I'm sure there are others, but that's all I could come up with in the moment.

Mother's Day

Well, I must say that Mother's Day can be an emotional challenge, but I find that focusing my mind and energy on the mother of my children (and my children) brings a lot of joy.

We had a great day today. Slept in until nearly 9am (if you have young kids, you understand how much of a joy that is) and had a leisurely morning: sitting on the deck reading the Sunday paper while the kids did their kid thing in the back yard. We went out for a late-ish brunch and had some wonderful Huevos Rancheros.

After brunch, we went to the California Museum of Oakland. They have a wonderful natural history floor with hundreds of examples of the flora and fauna of California. As my four year-old kept asking, are all these animals real? Yes, Henry, they are all real. Are they all dead? Yes, Henry, they are all dead.

Next up: Starbucks for a little pick-me-up for the adults (and the kids, too). Then it was over to "Bird Park" as my kids call it. Actually, the park at Lake Merritt. A little bird watching/lake staring and then over to the boat docks for a wonderful Mother's Day gondola ride. Thirty minutes of sitting in an authentic Venetian gondola, oared (is that right? oared?) by an authentic Venetian! Ah, like a limousine, only way more aquatic and relaxing and...did I already say wonderful? Our gondolier, sang three different songs (in Italian) and gave a us a quick history lesson of Venice all while steering the gondola with an impressive ease.

Did you know that Venice was a sovereign nation for over 1000 years? It was.

Then off to Pyramid Brewery for dinner and couple of Hefeweizen. Oh, man can they make a Hefeweizen! Then back home and (after a reasonable waiting period) some yoga.

Damn, that was a good day. Why can't they all be like that?

Have You Bought My Book Yet?

Why not?

<---- You can click on the picture to the left. Or you can click HERE

or HERE

or HERE

See how easy I made it for you? Now, what are you waiting for?


Seriously...don't make me come over THERE.

You Gotta Meet Her

Click on over to nibble and check out the interview with leah angstman (no, that's not a typo, she's all small letters!).

She is an amazingly brilliant artist and the brains and brawn of Propaganda Press, the most ass-kickular publisher in the small press universe.

Seriously.

Oh, and in case you hadn't noticed, she's one of my best buddies.

I Don't Believe in God

Well, I don't believe there's a white dude with a flowing beard standing up in the clouds keeping his baby blue eyes on us (more on that later, perhaps).

But, damn, thank god for kids and cats and drizzling rain and that perfect little buzz you get when you drink just enough alcohol, but not too much.

Ok, I said no more drunken posts, but I feel so damn good RIGHT NOW, I had to share.

And technically, I'm not even close to drunk...

It Rained the Whole Time

March 1, 2009
26.2 mi.
3h 40m 53s
1st Marathon

A Poem on the Internet

I know how you love to click stuff.

So, click this.

Ah, you gotta love work!

Of course, when I say that I mean you gotta love work when it's over.

Such a release.

Thank you, Work, for letting me go home. (So much more accommodating than prison...)

Ever Glad the Weekend is Over

Man, other than a few hours Saturday night spent in great conversation with a friend (you know who you are), this weekend was a house of horrors.

Locked inside (thank you rainy weather) with the kids, stuck running errands, everybody in the worst of moods. Lot's of temper trantrums and crying and whinning and arguing...ARGH...and the kids weren't so great either!

But, it's Monday (thank whomever) and the kids are at school (thank you Oakland Public Schools for watching my kid for free from 8:30 to 2:20) and I get to work...alone...by myself or at least with reasonable adults who have some level of self-control, right?

Oh, shit. Well, could it be worse than Sunday was? Hmm...yes. Yes, it could.

Okay, fingers crossed. I'm going in.

Ok. Seriously.

No more drinking and blogging.

Yeeesh...

It's Late

So if this doesn't make any sense...well...I'm not going to apologize.

1. Life is short, brother.

2. Fuck Nike, but, yeah, just do it.

3. Find a thing that you like and keep doing it.

4. Rules?  See number one.

5. I'm going to give it all I've got and if I can make myself happy even for five days...hell, five minutes...you know...I'm going to try.

6. If I know you, you matter to somebody.  Remember that.

The Weather Forecast:

TODAY: RAIN

SATURDAY: SHOWERS

SUNDAY: SHOWERS

MONDAY: SHOWERS

TUESDAY: SHOWERS

Rain? Fuck that...