When Day Becomes Night (a poem)

when day becomes night

people tuck into beds

drop their heads

on puffy pillows & blankets

back from coal mines & factories

of fear, soaked in mud

smeared with oil of

dire times –

they were once in their primes

these working men & women

but now bones hurt

spines shatter

blood splatters

when day becomes night

(Photo by Uvi D on Unsplash)

Euphoria (a poem)

The river meanders

dividing line of Philly & Jersey

fog drifts off blue-black water

on the way to the concert

you can hear music reverberate

feel chilly breeze on your skin

men & women pulsing with

sexual energy

some of them tipsy

touch my hand

tell me you understand

let me know I’m alive –

the warmth of your body

the coldness of steel handlebars

ready for a night of euphoria

(Photo by Matt Power on Unsplash)

The Eve of the Funeral (a poem)

On the eve of the funeral, there was a knot in my stomach –

his death was so sudden

a Friday night phone call + he’s gone forever

I felt panic, a wave of grief that threatened to demolish me

my sister stepped into the summer night + screamed

a primal shout that began long years of healing.

(Photo by Richard Burlton on Unsplash)

The Blues (a poem)

Bask in nighttime blues

stars dot the sky like flecks of white paint

Mothers moan for lost children –

we want rhythm, but not the blues

the aqua blue of deep seas

the blackened blue of bruised eyes

the blues guitar of the Mississippi Delta

the crystal blue eyes of your lover –

sing the blues, young one

sing ‘em while draped in a blue dress

drowning in muddy waters.

(Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash)

The Faceless Woman (a poem)

The faceless woman chases me through vacant city streets –

lights on in every home, but no one’s there,

just us, running in dreadful silence

my heart beats so fast it feels as if it’ll burst

from my sunken chest, plop on black concrete +

continue to beat to the rhythm of the pulsing ground,

as a brilliant moon looms above, hangs over us,

shines blinding light on my ghostly skin –

I’m living in sin + if the woman catches me,

I’ll surely suffocate + gurgle black blood

from a wicked mouth –

No! my mouth is gone, covered by slimy skin,

+ I’m gone, in her cold grasp at last,

the world collapses inside of me +

I wake as a newborn in some

distant jungle landscape.

(Photo by Gabriel on Unsplash)

In the Woods (a poem)

It’s been so long since I’ve

walked in these woods,

surrounded by trees

on a humid summer night.

It’s dusk and tree cover provides

shade on the trails, but we still

huff, puff with each mile.

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In the Shadows of the Techno-City (a poem)

We hide, strategize in the shadows of

the Techno-City, away from Portia’s

prying eyes – don’t worry, you’re safe here

from the tyranny of technology.

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America is on Fire (a poem)

America is on fire, but it’s okay –

we’ve burned before and we’ll surely

burn again. Men in masks smash store windows

and flames from a police car rise into a clear night sky.

I saw it all from the apartment window.

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Love in Philly (a photo)

Here’s a picture I took last night while walking around the city with Rachel. It was nice to see this after all the violence and chaos that’s been in the news lately. Many of the protests in Philly have been much more peaceful lately, after starting off with a lot of tension.

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