The Doorstopper

You close doors
that were open once before
I dig through floors
and pop back in

Let's make a mess
Forget about the rest
I'll only want less
and then we both win

You dump in some sand
I'm still reaching with my hands
I would see the other man
but I've got selective sight

I shove shoes in closing doors
that were open once before
Wedged cracks ask for more
I think I see the light

For Jay

Thinkin' of an old friend
one who used to meet me halfway
in cookie-cut suburban hoods
just to finish my sentences
Now he waits for my phone calls
follows delayed airline itineraries
stares at white collar clocks
and posts courier new compliments

Keep your eye off the second hand
minutes don't waste what is (h)ours
seconds won't keep you out of first
dynamic handshakes are not pendulums
Just pick up these cell rings
tell your sister she was right
stare down spring-snake ghosts
and forget that it's all nuts

Chinstrapped up and helmetless
stern lips hiding smiling chuckles
that can help our friend through this
this quiet spine of shivers
Conversations on sleepy nights
with friends closer than I knew
hours I thought would never end
watches dark with closing eyelids

Forget about Tom and chained legs
along with ticking thoughts
Remember combined thought creations
and gaining from what is lost
I'm looking forward to the next brick
as we slide down only one
Thinkin' of an old friend
and marking bricks just halfway

sdrawcabackwards

Books written backwards
Songs sung the same
Authors in ourselves
anonymous by name
Ideas flung forward
in pride and in shame
Shields ahead of spears
autonomous in game

Put your back behind your hands
Place mine on the hood
Today it pays to be the bad guy
We´re punishing the good

Gifts being rewrapped
Lights gone dark
Matches taking fire
extinguishing a spark
X is getting lonely
as Z becomes the mark
Y stands in between
vowels elsewhere parked

Forget what shines in light
See where midnight lurks
Today we flog our normalcy
and then massage our quirks

Umbrellas block the shade
Shelters allow the rain
We are wet by nature
Soap washes in our stains
Pillows make us restless
but they´re not the ones to blame
when we throw away our comforts
and open doors for pain

Mondo Taitu

The shard star mirror tells me I´m broken,
and we all know the stars don´t lie.
Am I who I ever was?
Or who I ever want to be?
I can only see a pirate in yellow flippers
exploring a life impossible to live,
stealing treasures from drowning dreams,
and casting his line back onto land.

The shores tell me that the seas always crash
before they retreat back into themselves.
Am I floating in something?
Or drifting from my feet?
I am hacking at waves from yellow boats,
translating Tom´s trilingual gargle,
spitting out words I´m not sure I believe,
and evading these minnows´ hooks.

And so the shard star mirror tells me I´m broken,
yet it rests on yellow walls.
Why do we listen to broken things?
And do they see the other side?
I am marking yellow walls with dirty feet,
watching star´s plaster melt,
focusing within single shards,
and finding myself complete again.