Tag: poetry

Like Clockwork

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There’s a reason why people use the phrase “Like clockwork.”
Every gear must be in perfect alignment.
Every tooth, precise, as with every escapement, spring, and wire.
It all doesn’t just fall into place.
It has to be painstakingly planned and built to utter precision.
Every piece working together in harmony.
One piece out of place, and the whole mechanism fails.
It takes a steady, patient hand to guide all the pieces into position.
Then, snap the case shut, wind it up, and listen.
Do you hear the ticking?
It’s ticking. It’s breathing.
Another watch, another clock is born.
Amen.

Lightning Spirit

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I’ve seen the Lightning Spirit dance from cloud to cloud, shouting thunder and waving her jagged fingers of lightning across the sky.
She dances to the music of the winds, rushing across the plains and laughing as the trees sway in the moonlight.
With a touch, a tree explodes in a shower of shattered bark and light.
And another.
She looks for her love, the Spirit of Iron.
Metal rods poked into the ground, offerings left at their base to beg her attention away from the homes.
Over and over, she and Iron become one.
She shouts satisfaction, and departs.

Jellyfish

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Jefferson Jellyfish Jones couldn’t count to 88, but he used every one of those 88 keys on that piano like a surgeon uses every knife on his tray.
He sliced and snipped at the music, tucking and nipping until what was once a bloody mess was a shining example the finest beauty.
Your ears and soul, lifted higher than they’d ever been lifted before, sonny.
At the ripe old age of 88, at the Bad Times Bar, Jellyfish hit those keys one last time, face down.
Even in his dying moment, no sweeter sound.
Play all night, Jellyfish. Play on.

The Bard

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We locked up the bard for his own safety.
If the king heard these nonsense rhymes, he’d certainly cut off his head.
I mean, here’s an example of his madness:
When an elephant coughs and sneezes.
It bends and falls to all four kneeses.
It wipes its trunk on what it pleases.
Then coughs things up in wheezes.
Bugs and germs upon the breezes.
Covered with disgusting fleases.
It’s how they spread such bad diseases.
Until the cough and sneezes eases.
The king is fond of his elephant herd, and to insult them in such a manner is certain death.

The Boat

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He puts her in the ground and plants a tree on the spot as he promised.
Years later, he takes a branch and whittles a small boat from it.
Places a candle in the center.
Go to the water, light the candle, and let it flow downstream.
Every night, you can see dozens of candles floating by.
At sunset, it’s so beautiful. And yet, every light is someone lost.
And someone who has lost.
When it is my time, promise me.
Plant the tree.
Carve a boat.
Light a candle in the center.
And remember.
As I have promised you.

Delays

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Through the tears, the sky glistens like the clouds are coated with glass dust, spread across a smear of powder blue.
Beyond, stars twinkle in the darkness. You can’t see them during the day, but they’re out there, all around us, a snapshot from tens, hundreds, thousands, and millions of years ago as the light tries to get here as fast as it can.
Once, I heard thunder a year after lightning had struck a tree. I was walking past a tree stump when a loud blast shattered the air.
Better late than never, I always say, but enough’s enough.

Broke

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“Broke my parole by coming here,” said the old felon at the bar.
I served him another beer. Here, man needs a drink, man gets a drink.
Broke every string on my banjo.
Broke every heart in Arkansas.
Broke every finger on my hand.
Broke every law across the land.
Broke every record set before.
Broke every chain across the door.
Broke every mirror in the bar.
Broke every bank, but lost my car.
Broke every story in the news.
Broke every shoestring on my shoes.
Broke every code that hid your data.
Broke every promise, I’ll see you later.

Stop The Presses

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Stop the presses!
Stop the elevators, too!
Might as well stop the air conditioning.
Oh, and the copiers. Can’t forget them, too.
Have you got a coffee machine?
Yup. Stop that sucker cold.
Stop everything right now.
Okay, now listen. Listen for a minute.
What do you hear?
You hear yourself breathing. And maybe your heart beating. Are your ears ringing, too?
That’s what’s real.
Now turn everything on.
Flip switches, one by one.
Bring it all back to life.
Make some noise.
Yell. Scream. Shout.
Just because you can’t hear your heart beating, it doesn’t mean it isn’t there.

My funeral

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yesterday night
I was thinking about
my funeral
if i were irish
i’d have a wake
and at that wake
there’d be alcohol
and music
and a guillotine
so my friends
and family
could hold a raffle
and the winner
would get to
cut off my head
(unless, of course
that is how
i died
in the first place)
instead, i am jewish
and there you will be
sitting shiva
for seven days
but just because
you have to sit
it doesn’t mean
it can’t be
on a whoopee cushion
or on a shiatsu
massage device
draped over
your chair

Water Flows

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If you insist on looking back, fine – Let’s all look back.
Water spreads in the ocean.
Water flows down the river.
Water runs through the sewer.
Water runs down the pipes.
Water collects in the drain.
A teardrop rolls down a face, falls into a drain.
Another. And another.
A painful memory recalled.
Drinking a glass of water.
Water flows into the glass.
Water flows through the pipes.
Water flows through the treatment plant.
From your perspective, it’s a painful memory.
But the water doesn’t know or care.
It just flows from place to place, unaware of what it does.