Monday, April 4, 2011

One Eyed Jack # 4


One Eyed Jack 


Shame is such a simple trick 
A shady hustler’s party game 
Where cards are dealt so quick and slick 
You’ll never trust your eyes again.


The one eyed Jack who plays it cool
Laughs too loud and guards his hand 
Knows all the tells and plays the fool 
Then counts his coins and contraband.


He whistles as he walks the night
Sniffs out his prey behind closed doors 
And patient, waits with eerie cheer 
For little girls come looking for 

His kind regard, his promised rides 
On carousels and ferris wheels 
His whispers sweet and almost shy
He knows just how to make them feel.


Until it’s time for sleight of hand 
Till pretense drops and shades arrive
And once it’s done they cannot stand 
The weight of it, they have to hide


They run to ground but it’s too late 
The shame applied will drag them down 
Some don’t survive and will not wait 
They disappear without a sound 


And others hide the best they can 
Their rabbit hearts beat triple time 
They sew themselves back up again
With needles and old bits of twine 


Haunted by old One Eyed Jack 
Each time they try to close their eyes 
They blame themselves not knowing that 
Shame is not born but is applied 


Old Jack, he knows just how it’s done 
And smug, delights in each trick tried 
Amazed how easy it’s become 
knows all the girls who’ve bravely tried 


To shake it off can never win 
Shame can’t be tossed or washed away 
It sticks as thickly as old sin 
And at the ending of the day 


They pick at threads become undone 
And wonder where their lives have gone. 

Red Pencils # 3


Blind criticism is an old carnival strong man
pressing down down down his muscles bunched and bulging
making the tattooed ladies dance

He’s flattening a circle of  made of iron,
making it straight and even and smooth
indestinguishable
changing its shape as easily as he spits in the dirt

Hiss body hurts but could do this all day long,
Breaking things is his only joy.

Coffee and his unfiltered cigarettes
don't please him anymore
The last of his women all left him while he slept.

The fortune teller knows to tell him lies
the snake charmers whisper strikes behind his back                    

He's old body still has a kind of bulky swagger
as he looks for other things to bend
He sneers as the children back away
As if they knew, they’d never grow
 if he breathed on them
with his old man breath.

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Another broken Sonnet #2




       I look into the night sky burning bright
My heavy sorrow can’t withstand the glare
Of moonshine burning through my wicked sight
My catch of broken sins is mine to wear.

I turn away in shame kissed shadow’s fall
Look down from what I know is mine to see
The ground that holds me upright through it all
Cannot protect me from what ought to be.

I drag my feet as slowly as I can
Afraid to face the sky before the dawn
I wonder now if I’d become a man
If I’d be marked forever born as wrong.

Would I escape the mirror of the sky
Walk free from sin and never wonder why. 

Friday, April 1, 2011

30 Poems in 30 Days

For the love of all things holy and less than I really don't want to write poetry. I'm surrounded. I've succumbed.
I'll post some of them here. Forgive me.