Meditation on the death of a newborn

earth erupted
seed blood
tears mud
died the soil

but oceans
still breathed
the sun could
still see
closed eyes
that never will

and the universe
gave you the space
to think about it

©03.20.2017 ebn

Those words

Carelessly they crawl on
clothes and naked skin
barbed feet easily
climbing into ears or
open mouths

get tangled in hair
nest there
laying eggs that hatch
and squirm
giving headaches and
nightmares

bite like nasty creepy legged things
clinging when seen
anticipating their host’s desperation
to shake them free

pressing their little bodies
against the terrified
who realize they’re still there
doing something
horrifying

and even when the brave
pluck off the things with straining legs
breaking, crushing
leaving stains
the residue that remains
you have to wipe on something

©03.17.2017 ebn

Into the couch

Joints cracking stretching out of the bed
Musty sweet from sleeping with my clothes on
Mattress missing someone to hear my yawn
Mind too tired to hold the thoughts climbing up

Dry feet drag me into the living room
Outside the window the day’s getting dressed
Morning quiet as the apartment waits
Hung over memories from yesterday

A toilet flushes and a door creaks open
A naked angel appears out of nowhere
Hair like a bird’s nest and her face like a dream
An earthly flower looking only for me

Back beaded by the nap of the couch
Body sun sliced by half open blinds
Buckle clinking under fumbling thumbs
Her weight won’t wait and sinks us into the couch

Pushing away the gyro meat on my breath
The farts that crinkled up the sheets overnight
The roach that’s sitting where my liquor had been
The neighbors at it cause he’s just coming home

Her magic fingers stroke the stress from my head
Sucks out the poison from my soul with her lips
I wrap my arms around her warm tenderness
And drink the life she breathes into me again

©03.11.17 ebn

The bed wetter

I don’t know if everybody peed in the bed
But as a kid
I did
Not once
But many times

When it was too dark
Too cold
When I was too relaxed
Waking from a dream in mid stream
Halfway to total relief

But the trouble of
Peeling out of my draws
And making it past squeaky floors
To wash up in the bathroom

Hiding the evidence
Sneaking new sheets
And flipping the mattress
So I could go back to sleep…

Along with having to
Explain my shame
Taught me that convenience
Can be inconvenient

That I have
Control over consequences
by making different choices

And that laziness and fear
Are shortcuts to bigger messes

©03.08.2017 ebn

The bum

When the sun reaches down
to wipe the sleep from my eyes
smelling like young tree whispers
and honeybees

I miss my father
and wash my face in tasteless tears.

Standing up straight,
wearing a soft blue shirt,
he waves his arm to reveal the morning

as men play bossa nova across the street
inside the café with its
windows wide open.

The musical notes gather
like a flock of nuthatches
in the boughs of my heart

while I remember his warm words
falling on my face
like the day resting its hand on my shoulder.

A waiter
sets his not quite finished cigarette
on the edge of a wrought iron table
while spraying down the glistening
cobblestoned sidewalk.

And a wild canary,
flitting around in the branches of a lemon tree,
watches sparrows bathe in the
little clear pools below

while a lovely pedestrian
reaches down to check a troublesome heel
her loose white blouse, mouthwatering...

And while I allow my imagination its freedom,
a brand new black cab
stops at the light, obstructing my view
as another woman applies her lipstick
in the back seat.

I take a deep breath,
my stomach bored and grouchy
like an annoying puppy
pulling at the bed sheets

when the sound of a quarter
dropped into my plastic cup
raises my eyes
and my hopes

as the door to the bakery opens beside me
and my wife hands me a breakfast sandwich
and a cup of coffee

while the yellow and blue flowers
listen to me open my mouth to eat
happy as they samba in the breeze.

©3.8.17 ebn

Purgatory

When you stop putting lotion on your feet
When your tea sits in front of you and gets cold
When you don’t play music anymore
When your thoughts fall like crabapples
All the time
Too much
Killing the grass

When the ones you want to call aren’t there
And the ones you should call
Sit on your desk
Locked up
In your cell

When gray skies are the best excuse
Or rainy days
Or perfect days
To catch up with yourself
And still be lost

When you feel like a stray dog
Walking through a field of pigeons
Craving company
While their regard for you
Provokes other cravings

When dreams are richer than life
And like being born
You can’t go back

It will dawn on you
In an overcast sky
You’re staring at the wall
Frustrated with all of this
nothingness

©03.04.2017 ebn

On the rim of a sunrise

On the rim of a sunrise
I emptied myself
And watched as my cares
Burned away

©3.2.2017 ebn