—I CAN ONLY WHISPER 

 

 

Lay Your Weapons Down

 

 

Lay your weapons down 

like the humpback whales 

which seek warmer water

Pack your horse with gifts and feed it well

Tell stories along your journey

Notice as much as possible

Write a poem to someone you love 

who’s never received one 

(they’ll appreciate it more than others)

Be sure to bring bandages just in case

Speak in color if you can

Call the first stranger you meet Friend

and mean it immediately

Flush sadness into the ether 

Write another poem and another 

and don’t worry how the 

first draft sounds when read out loud

But above all else, lay your weapons down 

 

—I TURN TO STONE

 

 

near greece 

 

we were told 

so flippant and

judiciously

just float to liberty! 

and so we did

but there is no freedom 

here or anywhere 

just as there is 

no longer a boat 

beneath us 

no heaven above

nothing that claims us 

only miles-deep sea

180 bodies crushed and 

turned to plankton

the captain be first to leap 

while the waves held

their hands wide open 

as each of us plunged 

another offering for 

an ocean with too many 

 

—VIDEO KILLED THE RADIO STAR

 

 

In the Pink

 

We were fresh then,

each scar novel and pink 

like blind baby mice, 

home torched in the rearview, 

Paris or Manhattan winking like 

a buxom KKG in the front seat.

Oz and Clinic knew the score 

but they weren’t telling, 

so we had another jar of clear 

and did a few more lines 

from “Diner” to make us 

feel tight and def.

What hung from the hotel walls 

came down quick, 

magic carpets made of glass. 

Even our secrets were sad-sack

and limpid back then.

We had eight-hour erections but

no proper place to stash our lust.

We didn’t know about Bean yet, 

Fred, Rod, David, Doc Sot and the 

whole fucking rest to come.

Jesus what a tar pit.

But let me tell you this:

man, the wind was blowing stupid fast.

The world, it moved and kicked some more still. 

Everything felt like crushed velvet 

or else it tasted like the scent of endless forever.

 

—SOMEWHERE SOMEONE’S STANDING UP FOR ME, SOMEWHERE SOMEONE’S STANDING UP FOR YOU

 —NOTHING EVEN MATTERS

 

…Hi, Monday. I have a lot of thoughts about you.

 

…Paying $250 for a shirt—even a great looking shirt--feels like letting someone spit in your soup and laugh about it behind your back.

 

…David Cassidy’s last words were, “So much wasted time.” But, like, wouldn’t that be anyone’s last words? Except maybe Richard Branson. 

 

…I wonder what would happen if people answered completely honestly when asked, “How are you feeling?”

 

…“Fail better.” Now there’s the perfect mantra.

 

…I was never good at smoking bongs. I’m not that good at breathing in…

 

…I wonder how many times you should hear, “How are you feeling?” before you check yourself in somewhere. 

 

…Did I mention I still miss Lucy?

 

…There’s always something to love.

 

…Yesterday I wrote a poem about how ugly my feet are. Now that’s stooping low for inspiration.

 

…Sometimes it’s shocking how sad I get.

 

…I could hear “Sunrise” a billion times on repeat and I’d never tire of it.

 

…I feel proactive. I pull out weeds. All of a sudden, I’m having trouble breathing in.

 

…I don’t think God created days just so you could scratch them off, but, well, some days…

 

…Does your computer do this: restart randomly, and make you then remember your thousands of passwords to every link you once had up on your screen? No? Lucky you.

 

…Oh no, the next thing I know, they call a triple 0.

 

…Don’t you just wish you could get inside certain people’s head and discover, “Oh, so that’s what the fuck you were thinking”?

 

…Of all the places I could be, why am I here with you?

 

…You said it was dangerous after Sunday. And I knew you loved me.

 

…Fishing, not out of need to feed yourself, but just for recreation, is a strange concept. I see these boats and sad men sitting in them and wonder why? 

 

…You’re very bad at explaining things. Just sayin’.

 

…Maybe we need a different exit.

 

…The less sense it makes, the more you matter.

 

…If you don’t mean it, please don’t give ppl any false hope.

 

…You’re scared and confused. I get that. I am, too.

 

…“Even though, in another life, you would have broken my heart, I would still like to do taxes and payroll with you.”

 

…What you did back there, it changed my mind.

 

…“Try peeing. It’s always a good distraction.”

 

…It’s 40 degrees and I feel like I’m dying.

 

…When your watch says, “Check your activity,” it’s really just calling you a P____y. Is saying “p___y” this way anti-feminist?  

..."Hey, Len, do you think if you went to see 'The V.M's' it'd just be you talking to yourself?"

 

…“Right” is a tiny box for people who don’t have any other answers.

 

…I’ve never wanted a different gender than the one I have.

And though you’re not going to believe me, I have wanted to experience being pregnant, child birth, and the rest, firsthand.

 

…I’m paying attention. Just look at me.

 

…My hands are shaky. My knees are weak. I can’t seem to stand on my own two feet. I’m breathing but I’m wheezing, feel like I’m emphysema-in.’

 

…What could possibly matter more than this conversation we’re having right now?

 

…Do you think this is funny?

 

…Whatever you’re thinking about doing, it’s enough.

 

…“What’s the end game?” is probably always a good question to ruminate over.

 

…Sometimes I really miss the Chemistry building. Well, actually, a lot of the time.

 

…“But does it have a gull?”

 

…“Do I have to throw rocks?”

 

…I have so many moles on my stomach now that it very much resembles an anthill.

 

…If I poked a pin in my ankle right now, I’d probably fly away to Nova Scotia, or at least to Everett.

 

… The paramedic thinks I’m clever because I play guitar. I think she’s clever because she stops people dyin’.

 

…Here we go again, right?

 

…How’s this for a new shirt?

 

…“Joy, why do you look so stupid?”

 

…It’ll all be better tomorrow. Right?

 

…Please give us a chance.

 —I CAN SEE THE SUN SHINING ON YOUR SOUL

 

 

…Sleeping still seems so stupid. I know it’s necessary and vital, but really, doesn’t it seem bizarre? Like the worst waste of time ever?

 

…I woke up missing Lucy again.

 

…Someday someone’s going to explain fate to me in a way that makes sense.

 

…The time to tell people you love them is when you love them.

 

…“Where the fuck is Wallace?”

 

…My grandkids are parakeets. How’re yours doing? Send photos please.

 

…Somehow, someway, “let’s keep it gold.”

 

…So, you’ve got a watch that alerts you when your pulse rises above 120 bpm, but what then?

 

…Watching the M’s when you already know what’s going to happen? Pathetic, or a very attached fan?

 

…No matter what, never write lol or make a heart shape with your fingers. Just don’t.

 

…“Sunny is munny.” Yep. That’s true.

 

…Teaching in schools that enslaved people benefited from being slaves is beyond abdominal.

 

…I’m learning to like the wrinkles even if they don’t like me back.

 

…My new man crush is Dennis Quaid. 70? Seriously? Come on.

 

…What I know for sure is that I don’t know much.

 

…Some things seem so long ago and some don’t seem like they even happened.

 

…Sometimes “a short one” fixes it all, and sometimes it opens up a whole new can of worms.

 

…The kids are getting married tomorrow. Just 23. Now that’s cuter.  

 

…There are regrets, and there is ___, which are both the same and not the same.

 

…I wouldn’t wish this anxiety on anyone.

 

…It’s been a while since I’ve thought about a song/video as much as I have, “The Emperor’s New Clothes.”

 

…Sharing, “I wonder am I really okay, am I really safe, do I need to call someone, do I need help” is vulnerability at its apex.

 

…There are a lot of writers out there obsessed with dragons. Who knew?

 

…Kids who love the lake and frolic in it is a wonderful thing.

 

…I read over 20 submissions yesterday. A tenth of them were about dragons.

 

…I have always been a huge Dylan fan, but I have a nagging suspicion that he doesn’t really care about much. He’s just a genius and couldn’t give a fuck about anything.

 

…I wonder if “Truth or Dare” or “Spin the Bottle” are still a thing.

 

…In my office, right behind me, are all of the print journals and anthologies I’ve been fortunate to be in, close to 200. One is dated 2011. My God but that seems like a long time ago.

 

…The thing about advice is it’s always different, so you have to be very selective who you ask it from, and even then…

 

…I wonder what you’re supposed to do when words are not enough.

 

…I hate gossip, and people who do it, because I understand its genesis, so I have to step back and slap myself when I catch myself doing it.

 

…You only get your parents, and they can be great or horrible, but they’re still yours, they’re still the markers of what parents are supposed to be.

 

…Tupperware as a puke receptacle doesn’t seem like what it was intended for, but it works.

 

…“Skullduggery.” Now there’s an interesting word.

 

…“Nothing Compares”

 

I didn’t want to be strong. I didn’t even think I was strong, but everyone else thought I was.

 

There was no therapy growing up, so that’s why I joined a musical group. I didn’t want to be a pop star. I just wanted to scream.

 

My mother was a beast and the only way I was able to soothe her was with my voice.

 

For one whole week, I was left locked in the garden. I remember looking up at the house where one light was still on, and screaming at her (my mom) to let me out, screaming over and over, until finally that light went dark and I was left trying to stay warm in the grass somehow.

 

The thing about, “Troy,” is it’s not a song. It’s a fucking testament.

 

It didn’t matter that people would shit all over me, though it hurt. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t a pop star any longer because I never wanted to be one in the first place.

 

(Referencing the video for “Nothing Compares 2 U”) You fell in love with that tear because it was a mirror. 

 

They tried to bury me, they did. But they didn’t realize I was a seed.

 

--Sinead O’Connor

—MAYBE I’M AMAZED

 

  

“Nobody ever figures out what life is all about, and it doesn't matter. Explore the world. Nearly everything is really interesting if you go into it deeply enough. Work as hard and as much as you want to on the things you like to do the best. Don't think about what you want to be, but what you want to do. Keep up some kind of a minimum with other things so that society doesn't stop you from doing anything at all. ~Richard Feynman

 

“In the end, everyone is aware of this: nobody keeps any of what he has and life is only a borrowing of bones.” Pablo Neruda

 

 

Alive Together / Lisel Mueller

 

“Even now, when the plot

calls for me to turn to stone,

the sun intervenes. Some mornings

in summer I step outside

and the sky opens

and pours itself into me

as if I were a saint

about to die.”

 

“There is no agony like bearing an untold story inside you.” – Zora Neale Hurston

 

"Tell me where the big people are, please. The big, reckless, brilliant people who believe passionately in doing something good and noble and inventive. I'll rest in their shadow or I'll help them balance their weight. I pray that they'll hire me or teach me. I'm so tired of small people and small things. It doesn't have to be a small world." Jeanne Moreau

 

 

Unseen Rain, Jalal al-Din Rumi 

 

“I have lived on the lip

of insanity, wanting to know reasons,

knocking on a door. It opens.

I’ve been knocking from the inside.”

 

 

The Kingfisher / Amy Clampitt

 

“Moving on or going back to where you came from,

bad news is what you mainly travel with:

a breakup or a breakdown, someone running off

or walking out, called up or called home:

death in the family. Nudged from their stanchions

outside the terminal, anonymous of purpose

as a flock of birds, the bison of the highway

funnel westward onto Route 80, mirroring

an entity that cannot look into itself and know

what makes it what it is.”

 

 

to live in this world

you must be able

to do three things

to love what is mortal;

to hold it

against your bones knowing

your own life depends on it;

and, when the time comes to let it go,

to let it go. ~Mary Oliver

 

 

“Poetry is eternal graffiti written 

in the heart of everyone.” 

--Lawrence Ferlinghetttie 

 

“One way to escape the universe in which everything is a kind of media cartoon is to write about the part of your life that doesn’t feel like a cartoon, and how the cartoon comes into it.” – Robert Hass

 

“I was a late bloomer. But anyone who blooms at all, ever, is very lucky.” Sharon Olds

 

“Every storm runs out of rain.” Maya Angelou

 

“My key

has lost its house.

I go from house to house

but none fits.

I have found

the locksmith.

My key fits

into his grave.” 

–Rose Ausländer

 

 

As The Poems Go

 

as the poems go into the thousands you

realize that you've created very

little.

it comes down to the rain, the sunlight,

the traffic, the nights and the days of the

years, the faces.

leaving this will be easier than living

it, typing one more line now as

a man plays a piano through the radio,

the best writers have said very

little

and the worst,

far too much.

--Charles Bukowski