|
GrahamDaCrakah
|
read my profile
sign my guestbook
Name: Graham
Country: United States
State: California
Metro: Los Angeles
Birthday: 8/31/1983
Interests: Being awesome and helping others to achieve a more awesome life through being awesome myself.
Expertise: I think a lot, perhaps too much; however, that will not stop me from updating this little website every so often with my awesome insights. They may be funny, sad, philosophical, or just plain self-absorbed. No matter what, they'll rock your socks off.
Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
AIM:  Graham Da Crakah
Member Since:
9/14/2004
|
|
SubscriptionsSites I Read
|
|
|
|
| Portland was hot
106 degrees Fahrenheit hot
the air stewed in sweat
sweltering hot heat
heavy hanging low
ran down furrowed brows
on the corner of the street
a man bathes in a fountain
his arms flail madly
catching droplets and slapping them
against his hairy body
two men wearing kitchen jackets
slouch into conversation
suck on cigarettes in the shade
and eye the man in the water
their scowls match
the ones worn by perspired pedestrians
shaking their head
at the man lapping cool water
onto his bald crown
down the way
two toothless women exit
a salvation army center
carrying worn faces
heavy with distrust
and paranoia
tilled by distaste
their only comfort in one another
a businessman passes
and looks down his beaded nose
a large woman pours herself
onto the wooden planks of a bench
a tiny cigarette dwarfed between
her thick sausage fingers
she leans against a cane
and her eyes make love
to a pigeon cooing at her feet
piss urine brine
like a cloud hovers over Broadway
the sun sets
but the warmth remains
stagnant like-death hanging sans a breeze
a pair of young men
walk their dog
his leash dragging on the ground
they ask for directions
from someone who does not know
but still answers with authority
legs in black stockings
a denim skirt and
a striped t-shirt
long dark black hair
all belong to the girl
who glides her bike down the road
dips to the left
and out of sight
the driver recommended
the Tugboat
as the place to drink good beer
but now they have a handwritten sign
drawn upon notebook paper
taped to the window:
"Closed. Too hot."
| | |
| I'm sorry
but I can see the cards
you hold in your hand
when you fan them out
can you please
conceal them from me?
It's no big deal
I won't use it against you,
in fact
this hand is yours
out of pure sportsmanship.
Now
let us try this again
--mind carefully--
for I watch you as
one watches a magician:
eyes slanted towards
slight of hand...
Ah,
but now I am
embarrassed
seeing your cheap trick
(purchased at a corner store
wrapped in plastic)
I must act as if
it was real
otherwise
you might be embarrassed
too.
| | |
| I stole away to the bathroom
--brimming with last hour's diet coke--
of the Los Angeles Public Library
it was my first visit
and I thought myself witty
noting that the lavatory
had no mirrors
because
--under my sly observation--
books are the best reflection
to understanding the self.
Mid-thought
I heard a faint rasping
rhythm
churned across the ceramic tiles
from a stainless steel stall
acapella grunts and
hummms
accompanying through
a grizzled jowl:
Uh huh
ahhh huh
Huh hah huh
uh uh eh
| | |
| Her son was killed by
a drunk driver
impatient with a stop sign
When we heard the news at school
the next day
some scrawled notes in sharpies
inside the confines
of the red bricks lined up
the wall of the cafeteria
I feared reprimand
from passing teachers
and/or administration
plus I really had nothing
to say
So I just read what was left
instead
Some time later her younger son
put a gun in his mouth
and you can guess the rest
Now, he went to my younger sister's
school
not too far from my own
where several years prior
I had taken a pre-algebra class
with his mother:
who, in those days,
did not know what tragedies
lay ahead
But then after burying
both of her sons
Both destroyed violently
in their youth
She betrayed by God
in the understanding
that children bury parents
and not the other way
around
She not understanding
the why
She stopped teaching.
She lost the taste
with other women's children
staring back at her
still breathing
complaining about their packed lunch
forgetting their homework
sneaking first kisses
walking in and out of her classroom
day in and day out
while she,
while she...
One night I prayed a foolish thing
I asked God
for just a moment
to give her relief from the pain
and instead grant my young teenaged shoulders
her burden
(over-confident and green
as is the way with youth)
And for just a moment
as the words left my lips and fluttered
up to heaven
I felt my heart plunge
into the depths of the
ABYSS
past Hell
past Hades
past Sheol
where there is nothing but darkness
true darkness
the void.
I wonder what happened to her
Last I saw
she spoke at a graduation ceremony
where her eldest son
would have sat
cap and gown
But I don't really recall any
of the words she said
Only how she wept
only how she wept...
| | |
| Do yourself a favor and go to my sister's website: Cocoa likes this!
I promise you, it doesn't have any poetry. Just adorable/hilarious pictures. Why are you still reading this? Go ahead to http://cocoalikesthis.wordpress.com/! You're welcome.
| | |
|
