Oh To Be Married

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–Lynn Johnston, For Better Or Worse

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from “Oh, the Places You’ll Go!”

You’ll get mixed up, of course,

as you already know.

You’ll get mixed up

with many strange birds as you go.

So be sure when you step.

Step with care and great tact

and remember that Life’s

a Great Balancing Act.

Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.

And never mix up your right foot with your left.

By Dr. Seuss

I am

I am mine & mine only

I am mine & mine only

I am mine & mine only

I am mine & mine only

I am mine & mine only

I am mines & mines only

I am mine & mine only

I am mine & mine only

I am mines & mines only

I am mine & mine only

It’s okay, I won’t let you

fall again.

She held her close

this little piece of herself.

 

Self Evident

It’s not so much the truth that bothers

Truths like lies

can sometimes shift

so whether they’re spat or whispered

they’ll always unfold

It’s the lying that kicks up the brick dust

The you can lie to them, we all do it

We’re all a them to someone

Where honesty hung off the tongue ready to dive

there’s only omission

a clean unwillingness

to break down and be an outright liar

Cowardly, feverish, but ready

my truth will lay in wait in trenches of jowls

Let the world have it

when necessary

when commanded

until then

Fuck’em my shit is self evident

The Secret Explanation Of Where Poems Come From

If ever you are in the room with those

Lost in the reverie of poetry

And struggling to guide their thoughts, they close

Their seeking eyes to help them better see;

If ever you have watched a poet’s face

Composing line within a world inside

No other soul can witness nor divide;

Then you are not alone in wond’ring, “Where,

While all their flesh and blood on Earth remains,

Do poets take their thoughts before they bare

Them back transformed? Where is a poem’s domain?”

This verse will not reveal from whence it came,

And poets–they write poems to explain.

–Allan Wolf

The Hughes

Do men dream in the same way that women do?

Do they cradle a dream to their chest, minding its head as if it’s fragile neck would snap?

Do black men dream big?

Do brown?

Men hold fast to so many things,

But dreams?

Or at least I can’t imagine many of them knowing what it feels like to have a dream

Hold you back

To say,

I will never leave you

No matter how hard the future gets

That we will make it through and survive this thing called life,

Together.

So, deferred, what is it that becomes of them? They build or preach or teach. Men may accept a lesser reality, a shallow dream that isn’t sweet enough to satisfy anyone. A sliver at a time they accept the life they have come to live, and, every once in awhile, learn to silence the hope that builds up in their chest

-excerpt poem from my book in progress called  ‘A Man Deferred’. Let us know what you think!

Stand Off

Behind these great walls

we tumble

painted ladies frame the fences

watch them crumble

their faces

cracked open by time

the wind, breathing in and out

bright bricks fall

they hit us hard

we don’t dodge the drops

we stand steady

yelling each other’s names

numb

loving all the way down

beneath the wreckage

and bone

-A. Long

Manifest Destiny

The headphones drown out the cries of the hungry as the train rages on like a metallic dragon. She is pretty. The homeless chick. Her voice booms even with the music turned up in my ears, leading me to believe she is well practiced in this art.

Come, Time

Come,

time to put away childish things

emotions strewn about the floor

pick em up

shove em into your toy chest

let them rest away

where those who won’t break them

will scoop them up to play

by A. Long