Patchwork

Adulthood clings

patchwork to this suit of skin

 

Frankenstein named

and Frankenstein burned

 

an ill-tailored suit

lunatic suitors sewed

 

as clouded eyes beheld

silhouettes beyond the street

 

scissors dancing in the dark

could not return light

 

notions on the periphery:

dreams of what I used to wear.

Familial Debate

Father

Why is it I should wait?

Wait too long and it will be too late–

there is a world in front of me,

perhaps you’re just too old still to see

there’s nothing I can do as but a boy,

I’m nothing more than the world’s toy

it takes a man to travel

and in unfettered heights to revel;

why do you hate me so?

Why do you treat me as a babe so low?

I want to learn, I want to help

I want to be more than a fleeting yelp.

Child

What would you call a yelp?

Why are you so eager to join the kelp?

Swim, swim away from time;

oh, what I wouldn’t give to know again the easy rhyme

you name stagnation

in your howl for the abdication

of the innocence of love and play,

oh child, no, if only you could hear me pray–

I pray for you and for your soul,

a soul from me the world so stole–

perhaps it’s curse you never could

know there’s no return to bartered childhood.

The Iron Mask

A Beijing opera mask

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Absent light

We stood before the mirror

To laugh away the night—

To watch the ebon shearer

Carve away all trace of color,

No escape within the muddled dance

Like finest wine tread through the muller

Far and away from time’s own chance.

 

Some men would brawl

To preserve that childhood lie,

Yet all must face the wall—

The iron mask—or die.

Graduation

Photo Credits: MSU Commencement. Year Unknown.

Graduation is here at last. If you needed an explanation to why the Den’s been a little quiet this week – look no further than that. In a wash of green robes and final papers, my week has been a flurry of continuous movement, continuous demands, and this single Saturday stands as the peak at the end of the long crescendo. After this, I still have a few finals (really, whose idea is it to have final papers AFTER your graduation?) but they are merely the final stepping stones bridging the gap between this life and the next – the entrance to reality.

All next semester will be spent hunting down a job, sending out swarms of short stories, poems, and (hopefully) my novel to contests, publishers, agents, and what have you on the march to creative advancement, and preparing my law school applications. Just have to remember to keep telling myself to breathe in the meantime.

I’d like to take the time to thank you all for all the support and kind words all of you have shown here on my blog over the past year. I never would have thought I’d find such a warm reception to this little creative outlet of mine…and it’s been a kindness, truly. I’ll be back soon enough with more. In the meantime, though…excuse me as I step off into reality. Be back in a bit.

Set Me Free

Set me off into the Black

far beyond the stars

set me off into the Wild

far beyond the wilderness.

Set me free of mortal hearts

and weighted thoughts,

so low, so low,

and break these chains that

bind me to this coil—

what life,

what prison

now is this?

Press the suit and

straighten up that tie,

you are a man, it says

but you are just a boy

playing at a world of

mysterium and drama that has

devoided itself of plot.

There is a key

to thee and thine and mine,

and nestled just behind that door

is freedom yet incarnate.

In a breath, breathe—

so few have ever tasted

the freshness of the air—

recycled reconfigurations of reality—

that will be your paycheck please—

and this feeling is not falsified,

unbound, unguarded it yearns

for the taking—just breathe—

and feel the air,

feels, felt, feeling

this momentary being—

all I want is to breathe

and to feel, yet to be,

to stretch beyond perception

and feel the days beyond

that calendar—no shifts scheduled here.

No vacancy,

sincerest apologies

this mind is mine and yet

one waits beyond, yet yours—

this mirror of a soul you grasp

what a reflection is it not?

There is the dawning,

the rain is falling down

and through the swirl of purple haze,

these diamonds dribble through the

emerald leaves, like tiny lovers—

in your caress, this breath unbidden

slithers through my chest

and down into my roots—

I am born again, stretching

for the clouds.

Air, give me air,

Prayer and dream and reverie

are forever in the field—

give me space to work.

My latest contribution to the wonderful One Shot Poetry Wednesdays! Once you’ve had a look, check out some of the other One Shot Poets as well– they’re a skilled bunch of poets, looking to form a community and support one another.  Enjoy!

Birthday Thoughts

“The great challenge of adulthood is holding on to your idealism after you lose your innocence.” ~Bruce Springsteen

Well, well, the day has come. According to society, I’m a man now.

Twenty one years have come and gone, and while I’ve been able to go off and die now for the past three years, I am now apparently old enough to legally have at the alcohol. Michigan, true to form, however, seems to have little interest in embracing summer just for such a silly little occasion, though. Clouds encompass everything in swirls of gray and black, threatening rain without ever working up the energy to do so. Lovely–I just hope it’s not a sign of things to come.

Regardless, I take this to be a time of reflection. Nearly a quarter of a century has come and gone–and the real world looms so near. College is nearly at its end, and I suppose I’m to be all grown up now. Will I be ready when the time comes?

I suppose many people ask themselves the same question. I wonder how many have the answer.