Fuel The Imagination.

I love you, Dear,
but I'm my own best friend.

This space plus Me,
We'll beat the world outside.

Mouse? No. Dragon.
Cockroaches? No. Witches.

Bike? No. Lightning.
Keyboard? No. Baby grand.

Perfect? Fuck no.
But damnit, 'least I try.

View not so sweet?
Paint over the window.

Trash on the street?
Build sculptures on the curb.

Crackhead vampire?
Cast a spell of garlic.

Filthy neighbors?
Cloak airways with freshness.

The heat won't work?
Set all the rooms on fire.

I've got the sparks
Red flares straight from the sun.

Don't waste your breath,
You can't extinguish me.

Chinatown Bus Philosophy Class.

This is a belated post written on my way to DC on 3 October 2009. I just remembered it:

Five o'clock, we can't be late
Move this bus, need this escape
to the capitol for 14 bucks
pissed, foreign, lookin' for luck
shelter from 3 hours' sun
recycled air stifles all: one
six-foot five and red black man
thinks comfort should trump profit. Damn!

What if the yellow sun'd-Asian
listened to this California raisin
if he unwrinkled his nose
kept eyes less off me, more on his toes

What if we talked to our Selves
developed muscles for mind elves
if cell phones were cigarettes
save souls from second-hand smoke Tourette's

So long to think, so much to sow
can't move too much, can't throw my 'bows

ideas are flowing, sprung a leak
wish telepathy could spark the weak

clouds catch the sun, great mystery
ethereal, metaphysical, reality

what's real? what's right? what's fate? What's sleep?
Sought ultimate truths are molten, deep.

Public transport philosophy,
Eastern neighbor serendipity.

L-Town Rock

Depart: My apartment, South Philly; 11:16am

Bananas on top of fire alarms;
Backwoods banshees do no harm:
Screaming karma gets you nowhere.
Look out the window, there’s so much there!

PATCO screeches, djembe drums,
Cyclo-commuter, he ain’t dumb.
Golf umbrella and rain guard attached;
Man’s got what I don’t on my back.

Pocket-sized and streamlined lives
Protect from tumbling nosedives.
Blackberry or iPhone, can’t live without?
In your Escalade, no doubt.

My Life could fit inside that prison
American dream, Jesus is Risen.
Freedom? Try a week on a bike.
Find addictions your whole Self will like!

Time on a train is time worth takin’,
Just open those eyes to thoughts worth makin’.

Arrive: Lindenwold, NJ; 11:55am

A Po'm

Pomegranate lovestains
slave trains unchained
scarlet rains remain
sticky sweet survival

open field, tired, kneel
spirits yield, package sealed
skin peeled, jewel revealed
senses new with reason

sparkling kernels few
precious droplet dew
maybe just for two
egoism mastered