PAD 2012 - Day 8

I have already spent too many years being
knight.  Oxidized armor and broken sword. 
I cannot fight dragons or save kingdoms.  No new sovreign.
Castles tumbling awkwardly,
this is just scenery. A background that seems to be repeating.
I need a little prespective, some point off in the distance
unfading-constant.  I'm unsure if I can save you.

PAD 2012 - Day 7

Mournful, driving away from my fortress of solitude
the life of a straying lizard hanging across my shoulders
I imagine karmic retribution awaiting me.   Wary,
the day is too slow for my mind not to wonder
lizards and lives; the value of each. 
Darkness covers the day and I return prepared
to pretend undertaker, give hasty eulogy.
Open closets to find emptiness, the lizard's great escape.

PAD 2012 - Day 6

Steady
stand, shoulder-length apart
the train moves forward.  My hands firm
in my pockets, fingering keys,
epherma, the fingernail file I keep there-
not for filing for cleaning or threatening
to stab.  Head straight, eyes closed.  I imagine
that I am already somewhere else.

PAD 2012 - Day 5

Kissing her might lead me down the rabbit hole, again.

The rabbit hole, again
a kiss...

Leading me down to a kiss

Rabbits

Holes

Again

Kiss me.

PAD 2012 - Day 4

Protect your heart
like your land, a possession: Trespassers
will be shot.

PAD 2012 - Day 3

the lake is half drained
shores dancing with seed and dirt
spring's loud announcement

PAD 2012 - Day 2

Work is an aquarium, saltwater
(so the injuries burn more)

There are jellyfish floating everywhere, billowing out
tentacles grasping at anyone foolish enough to imagine them friends.

Suited sharks eye schools of fish
everyday a lesson in navigating, survival.

I am an urchin hiding amongst the reef, prickly
use my spindles to keep the rest of the tank at bay.

Day 1

The day my mutant powers manifested at work
no one noticed, bins toppled
children continued to cry.  We kept the lines moving,
that day, like everyday; precariously balancing: security, customer
service, and wait times.  No one stopped their rush,
their rhythm, the apex of their daily grooves
to notice.  My skin hardened, eyes
flashed pain.  I almost crumbled, but didn't
determined to keep walking upright, despite: diamond skin,
glowing eyes, the new strength of my arms.

Blindspot (A quickie found poem)

Objects, in the mirror
are closer
than they appear.

It's off to work we go...

I race to arrive at a place I disdain, a fixture
in perpetual arrivals
and departures.  Cloaked in a scowl
an aura that screams for distance.  I invision myself invisible,
untouchable: Queen; of the Escalators,
of the maze of gates , of a path I could walk blindfolded.

I destroy my actuality
for eight and a half solid hours, supress
the "fuck it" on the tip of tongue and finger.

When that sentence is sufficiently served, I am a little less
proud   myself    alive...a little more: tired  disgusted  angry...  
Mask on a bit more firmly, to fall
into a dreamless sleep, wake to rinse and repeat.

Don't know if this s finished it came to me on my commute...