Poems

Where are the Snowdens of Yesteryear?

The most dangerous questions we ask
Are the ones we ask of our own
Consciencely aware
That you are not here
And I am not there
And he is not near
And for this I fear
That there really is no answer
Yet only a determined path
Non-prefixed
Where are the Snowdens of Yesteryear?

A blank stare, ready to greet me
A festering ulcer, ready to eat me
A conscience cane, ready to beat me
Where are the Snowdens of Yesteryear?

And what if I want to wear this uniform?
And what if I dont?
Who are you to fold?
When time begins to grow old?
Wish we were(nt) so bold?
Like the Snowdens of Yesteryear

Once upon a time
A boy bit into a lime
And ooh he gave a sour face
And decided he didnt like that place
So he never came back
And he never bit into a lime again
But Blankety Blank says its a sin,
"Youre not finished with your meal until you eat your lime"
See the look on Blankety Blanks face
When they shoot the look out of Snowdens face
Deciding hell never leave this place
And hell remain cold forever

A blank stare, ready to greet me
A festering ulcer, ready to eat me
A conscience cane, ready to beat me
Where are the Snowdens of Yesteryear?





I watched as a dollar bill fluttered to the ground

I watched as a dollar bill fluttered to the ground
And the answer to the question, "Would it make a sound?"
Was a resounding "Yes"

So pretty
Flickering a greenish hue
As it makes up its mind which side to land on
Imitating a leaf shed from an autumn tree
Catching the fleeting glance of a man late for work
Interweaving amongst city-goers headed to city chapels
Does the man ponder the strange existence of a leaf
A leaf amongst iron trees?
Not until it reaches his feet
As he notices it is a dollar
And he bends over to snatch it up

The same dollar falls from the sky on an autumnal day
In the countryside
Where children still drink fresh-squeezed lemonade
Where the girls swing on tires hanging from birch trees
And the boys throw footballs through the same tires
And the lonely dollar bill falls from the sky
We don’t know why
But the four year old boy says "Please…
Mom, can you rake the leaves?"
And the dollar joins the pile
And all the while
The boy gets a running start
And you can hear the pounding in his heart
As he jumps onto the pile of leaves

And the lonely dollar has company
Incalculable cost concealed in the middle of the pile
And all the while
The boy has a smile
From jumping into a pile of leaves
All brown but one of them is green
But the picture stays serene
As the little boy smiles

I’d like to be a dollar bill floating in the air
And if you really care
You would catch me
And drop me from high in the air again
Because you know it is a sin
To let the dollar reach the ground
But if I do, turn me upside-down
And rake me into a pile of leaves




When Does The President Get To Cry?

When does the President get to cry?
When does the tear drop from his eye?
Sullen days are sullen days
And I haven’t seen him cry for days
Months
Years
When does he cry?

Such a man of stoic fame
His tears leave no trail stained
With the residue that makes us golden
Put gray hairs on the crown of Holden
Such a hidden wonder to me
All of the President’s tears in captivity
Concealing them for a rainy day
But what happens when that day turns into a month
And that month turns into a year
And the plains are flooded with the rains
And there’s no relief effort for the pain
This is what happens when the President abstains

What happens when you grow up quick?
Growing amongst an envy so thick
Not that you could cut it
But that it could cut you
When it wants to
And it wants to
When it wants to
And it hasn’t rained for days
And here I am again in this maze
Choking in my smoking chimneyed haze
So aware of a seemingly nonchalant gaze
That burdens my eyes
And I am so wise
To know that my story hasn’t been told
Because at times I haven’t grown old
While the lines on my face suggest my
Inverse relationship with myself
And how I fit into this universe
On an existential level
Is how I’d like to exit
Knowing of my everything
And how I want to give it all to you
And forgetting that I can’t
And knowing that I can
Because I can
Because I can
Because I can
I can
I can see when the President cries
And I can put my arm around him
And tell him, "It’s going to be okay."
And he can do the same for me
And nothing has changed
Except the pain
Is all gone
But he is still the President



Removing the Skin from a Toy Balloon

We should stop at where we are
And start over
Remembering what’s bad
While remembering what’s good is better

It is not okay for me
To rage over a man who cuts me off on the freeway
And sit fuming in my car
While my neighbor ten miles up the road
Lives in his
And it is not okay for him to curse his unlucky stars
Because ten miles up the road, not so far
Away, there is a man who lives in the box, away
From what you and I have ever known

He lives in a box
Atop some rocks
Under a freeway overpass
The same freeway on which I cursed my neighbor

And what if it were just me
And the guy I cursed on the freeway
Living in foreign captivity
Having to work together
Would we argue who was right?
Bicker into the night
Or would we simply place our differences aside
And work side by side
Would we?

What about me and you?
What are we to do
When all our makeup is removed?

Why do we go out on Friday night
And gawk at the prettiest sight?
Battling for the perfect
When the perfect doesn’t exist
Why is it such a risk
To talk to the one who isn’t so grand
And hold that person’s hand
And connect to their soul
Under the blacklit (light) heaven

And then the next day
That light is taken away
And all the sudden it’s okay?
Is it?

Then why do I stop and stare
At the girl with the pink and purple hair
And consider her a freak?
Perhaps it’s unique
But what if it were just me and her
And you weren’t there
How could you care
Who the hell I was talking to?

How can you see
That she’s not just like me
Under the sunlit (light) day

Under the dark
You change your remark
To yessir, yessir, yessir
Silly us
On the short bus
On the long road to a place not so well lit
And it smells like…yessir

And why do you do this
Who are you afraid you’re going to miss
If you had to spend the night with me?

Life is so far away most of the time
Life is so far
From the heavens to the Earth
What lies in between
The lies that we live lie in between
Loosely lit lies living long
Living strong
Strong like the bonds between you and I
On a Friday Night
On Party Night
At Club Toy Balloon

White and Black and Atheist,
Hindu, Catholic, and Sexist
Muslim, Mormon, and Ventriloquist
Party at sexy Club Toy Balloon

Beamer, Benz, red sportscar
Ferrari, Forerunner, Rickshaw
Drop it off in the valet parking lot
At the sexy Club Toy Balloon

Smirnov Ice or Sake Bomb
Drink a Coors and come along
Sing along to your favorite song
At the sexy Club Toy Balloon

Please arrive with your hair gel
Make-up, perfume, and good cologne smell
Do anything you want, we won’t tell
Just come party at Club Toy Balloon

It would not be logical for me
To lie to you in strange captivity
When I stood next to you
And you stood next to me
And all that was between us and them
Would be us

Would us be we
Instead of broken you and me
In foreign captivity
Life is hard

But such is the reason
For a Christmas season
Could such a season be twelved?

Could you do it even once
And then for eleven months
Could you? Could I?
I won’t lie
I don’t think you or I
Could

But we could

We could indeed
If we were in need
In foreign captivity
With no toy balloons

With no toy balloons
Life is so better so soon
Life is so better
So better

So I bet you we can
Please take my hand
Off to this wonderful land
This is the answer
With no toy balloon

We should stop at where we are
And start over
Remembering what’s bad
While remembering what’s good is better