October, 2007

(archives)

po’ tree

– brianprince

po’
tree.

grow
deep.

to the earth’s ends.

don’t
weep.

po’
tree.

as winter begins.

alone
and free.

po’
tree.

shedding all my skin.

unknown
defeat.

po’
tree.

harvest has to happen.

po’
tree.

throw
leaves.

at your frustration.

po’
tree.

all
journey.

with no destination.

grounded
firmly.

po’
tree.

basking in the sun.

po’
tree.

know
peace.

self-reinvention.

po’
tree.

loads
to release.

expressed regurgitation.

my own
retreat.

po’
tree.

poetry satisfaction.

marshmallow

– brianprince

you say, if life was just a marshmallow, it would be all fluff. would adding some graham and chocolate. make it enough? more real? s’more appeal. depth and feeling. mixed together. but not without fire. burn. If you can’t put out the fire. admire the flame. i see now. it’s making sense. sticky. messy. gooey. all in the same.

i just want to get coffee with you. ok maybe a tea. but mainly, i just want to have a meeting. to talk about everything. a social club. of two. we’re social bugs. we do similar things that make us one being. figuratively speaking. it’s just strange. this relationship. from one coast to another. it’s like we have the same mother. you know my sister found her real mom in new hampshire. i find it fascinating. she even met her over coffee. i’ve never tried. i think too much. never with action. i’m stuck. in my own imagination.

umbrella

– brianprince

i walked home
in the rain tonight.
any person
would say what a pain, right?

childishly running.
in every puddle i was stepping.
run for cover. in that church.
tasting the tears of mother nature.

pouring. crying. laughing. loving.
drying under the scaffolding cover.
only to get sprinkled on the face
again. set foot. get another taste.

hair flat. clothes soaked.
enjoying this moment.
no shame. i’m glad i didn’t listen
when you said, “bring an umbrella.”

passion II

– brianprince

waking up while it’s dark. stepping off the ledge of my bed.
my feet hit the carpet. but dreams still dance in my head.

why was i so angry? i’m not eminem.
i have a great family. and mini-van.
i’m wading. in the deepend. again.
but i keep proving. i can truly. swim.
why was i so angry? because i am.

so,

i found myself. hosing down the driveway.
set your water-conserving-self to the side today, and
let this man have a therapeutic session, if he may.
i’d rather pay the bill for all my hose watering.
rather than unloading on a watered-down shrink.

it’s where i’m uncovering. the discovery so deep.
the revelation recognizing my realization. unearthing.

it’s passion.

for starters. i find it much harder to grasp on demand.
it’s passion like the italian woman in the kitchen at 3 am.
it’s drive to the jersey girl for fashion with Ralph Lauren in the garment district.
it’s ambition to Og Mandino. get up up and get going to the local library.
it’s motivation from God. and the faith that helped Noah build the ark.
like will power. like tenacity. like baking flour. and finger licking. batter.
like a hot shower. and warm towel. like driving wide. and
thinking narrow.

you know what i speak.
it’s passion.
and my driveway is clean.