Off Broadway

It's Complicated

silence
pierces the solace of loud episodes
sparks in the darkness
the evidence known
but unseen

calmness
in the throes of chaos
and claps of thunder
rumblings beneath my feet
steps unsure

love
in the wake of apathetic haze
grasping for what isn't there
shapes and forms dancing
with no music playing

words
written on invisible parchments
and pens absent of ink within
steam... press... fold...
will wear it tomorrow

she asks
"what are you talking about?"

I respond
"it's complicated..."

Potential

potential
you got
train up a child in the way he should go
wind him up
and see him scatter across the floor
like
vermin in the subway
pizza scraps
and 
Mickey D wrappers
licked to the bone
antiseptic
like hospital sanitary scrubs

potential
you got
talent to make the starting line up
fast like that
chasing you down the field
left me standing there
spinning my wheels in the mud
made me sit down
while you took my spot

potential
you got
made my pen stand up and be erect
no blue pill
or
subscription injections in the mailbox
blue verbs, adjectives
nouns penetrating me to the point
I am expecting to give birth
at the end of this poem

potential
you got
she said while mounting the stairs
last room at the end of the hallway
e...

Does God Like Poetry?

does God like poetry?
when I stand before Him on the judgement day
will He chastise me for all that I had to say?
should I have split my nouns, verbs and adjectives
in a more reverent Sunday morning worship kind of way?

does God like poetry?
does He plug His ears as He looks down at the open mic stage?
tug his grey whiskers and point his finger in a fit of rage?
or would He excuse my French and turn the other cheek or other page?

does God like poetry?
should I write sacred psalms like David did in Old Testament times?
construct my thoughts in military formation like hymnal rhymes?
and collect olive branches and forgive them for all of their crimes?

does God like poetry?
or does just endure us poets
because we fertilize the earth with the truths that can't be said
the way we poets would say our unfiltered truths
behind pristine Sunday morning pulpits

ta...

Parking Spot Available

an apple a day
was supposed to keep the doctor away
but I sliced them up with 
shots of Tanqueray
and thought to pen a few lines
but sometimes there's not too much to say
so lemme take a few long sips
and get this thing under way

should I speak out on
how we got kicked out of heaven last night
God saw what we were doin'
even though we turned off every light
that old Sunday School song
red and yellow, black and white
wondering this morning if
we were still precious in his sight

I could say a little somethin' somethin'
about the flavorful flow I read in PV
snappin' my fingers and head noddin'
to every blessed line that spoke to me
spilling the truth and knowledge
to which I wholeheartedly agree
saw an empty space in the room today
the scribes were waiting on me

munching on a few slices of apples
a shot...

Let No Man Put Asunder

yesterday
the twain became one
voluptuous and virgin 
America
to the most handsome
vivacious and viral
Democracy
the promises made to love
protect
cherish
til death do them part
white silk train
flowing from sea to shining sea
maid of honor
Statue Of Liberty
twas such a happy day for her
the countless hours spent with 
America
who to invite
where will they sit
what will be the bill of fare
CNN
MSNBC
Politico
photographing 
filming  
recording the ceremony for posterity
all
highly recommended
proud Founding Father
always the best man
reaching into his coat pocket 
finding the rings
circular cymbals of an unending 
uninterrupted union
Democracy smiles
America blushes
as the Supreme Court asked...

Don't Hold It Against Me

I knew I wouldn't remember yesterday
so 
I wrote it down
just in case I needed to refer back to moments I didn't remember
or
emotions were typing on my keyboard on its own
or
ejaculated from my pen
and I knew nothing about it
until I read it this morning
head spinning
wondering what I was doing at the time
who I was doing it to
or
who 
what
when
why 
where
and
how
it was being done to me
so
I wrote it down
knowing I wouldn't remember yesterday
names
places
faces
all changed to protect the innocent
namely 
me

Umpteenth Time

my pen 
up and jumped off the kitchen table
silverware and glasses fell to the floor
the while thing wobbled 
all four legs became unstable
dazed for a moment
dreaming I was the main character in Aesop's fable
my pen cursed at me
demanding I write a new rhyme
that's what happens 
when I watch Love Jones
for the umpteenth time

wasn't planned
scanned the TV apps to waste an hour or two
she wanted to peep old episodes of
Married At First Sight
something old, borrowed and blue
they all got divorced in the end
I wanted to watch something new
every prime time channel got a detective show
different character, same crime
so we both settled on watching Love Jones
for the umpteenth time

started to get warmer
went over to the thermostat and turned up the AC
the scene where Darius spits his first poem

Perceptions

at one time
black
was evil and satanic
then became
beautiful
whereas
it is now
fashionable
and God only knows what black will be
tomorrow

Odyssey

so
I wonder what would it be like
if I were a planet in your universe
 
what if I flew too near to your sun?
would you singe my wings like Icarus
hurling me downward onto the jagged rocks of your shores?
 
could I revolve
and evolve within your solar system
keeping track of time and seasons?
 
would you support me with your gravity
or would I fall from your galaxy
into unknown worlds beyond?

would I be just another planet in your universe?
another star among the millions
illuminating your nocturnal skies?
 
I wonder what it would be like
if I were a planet
in your universe

Cold Poem

I wish for the snow to fall
anytime
summer days as well as now
 
emotions
frozen
like icicles hanging from arctic cliffs
one false move
one blue verb
one frozen adjective
a downward spiral
dashing against the frozen pavement below
I shatter into a million pieces
and am no more
 
let it snow tonight
to hide for a moment or two
the ugliness
which is you and I
 
the sun
rising in the morning
we look out the window
seeing what we used to be
how beautiful we used to be
forgetting
what lies beneath the surface