“The Human Machine” refers to our human nature.
Poems in this category allude to our history, future, hopes, dreams, fears and more.
Warrior Mind
A sage voice councils a troubled soul in “Warrior Mind.” This poem challenges us to overcome our fears and weaknesses, to become the best that we can be.
“who am I?”
bids the boy who cried mouse
wails the wolf in sheep’s clothing
cants crow, trapped in the heart
this battle of you
would be faced with a warrior mind
Squawk
The frustration of people who never seem to change is explored in “Squawk.” This poem compares lip service about change to the color and noise birds display in order to appear more intimidating or desirable.
squawk and flutter
shriek and sly
feathers and foul
but never quite to fly
sheathed talons
bellow and crow
scissor bore, and call
but your beak’s just for show
Parking Lot Hymnal
Students daydream on the way to class in “Parking Lot Hymnal,” a poem that observes natural goings-on amidst the asphalt of a school parking area.
stop signs and white lines
crosswinds and crosswalks
tic tac toe, telling you where to go
migrating like elk
to the snow, all in a row
watching rabbits like waves
folding over the grass
bodies fixed, only eyes can follow
our minds join them in the furrows
the dusty brows, rambling upon the breeze
bouncing in step to the clapping car keys
Night Holds the Moon
“Night Holds the Moon” considers the power we give words to shape our world, and how we can make ourselves sick by clinging to strongly to them.
the trees are charcoal hearts
sickly prison branches scratching
their powdered veins navigating
into fibrous, paper earth
brittle yellow sketches caught
in a languidly beating hue
grappling with the grains
like night holds the moon
Native
Native American imagery urges us to return to simpler times in “Native.” I focus on how humans separate themselves from nature, and how they can find peace by returning to it.
so wake up hungry,
lifted up to city rains
where sidewalk sprinkler stains
leave traces like concrete animals
on pavement laid to hide the way
once smooth as river rock,
like the tongue of a man with something to sell
Free Time
Many people are living through this life like they’ll be around forever. This poem examines “wasted time,” and likens it to a beast with whom we struggle.
that false, burrowing monster
dug its grave in wet
earth, damp from someone
else’s sweat
Ape
Warrior Mind
Night Holds the Moon
Missing Link
Scientists argue that we have evolved, but the speaker questions that theory in “Missing Link.”
ape’s face hides mine
thrilled to stand, but tilled to find
this scorched skeletal record
that soils trophies won
spun with opposable thumbs
gibbon giblets for which
we give thanks, for filling spaces
in our history
whisper why to me
but lucy’s not telling
Made to Hold Them
This work looks at human hands and wonders if they were ‘made’ to hold implements of destruction and war. The poet certainly hopes not, but history begs to differ.
point or fist
caress or click
fingers stroke
skin, or trigger
pumps blood
like bullets
veined terrain
flesh highways
geographic patches
skin boundaries
Fetal 2.0
As technology continues to permeate our culture, how long before it seeps into our cells? That is the question posed by “Fetal 2.0.”
instant orders swimming round
the spine on down load the
operating system’s call
a placental network,
womb wide web whose cable
arms that reach instinctive drives
saying for what we’ll always long.
to be plugged in, wired up, and snug
like master slave or mother child
mother load or mother sea
amniotic, cyber-biotic.
After Thought
At one time or another, we all find ourselves over-thinking our options or goals. That is the dilemma encountered in “After Thought.”
the crease and furrows of a feeling
like tree rings revealing
the history you just cut down
to gain new ground
after thought
emotion comes after thought
the silent setting of a season
like questioning clock’s reason
whose uncertain face
spins future’s pace
after thought
time comes after thought
Thunder at Rest
“Thunder at Rest” is a haiku about never quitting. On a side note, it is incredibly difficult to give a 3-line ‘excerpt’ of a haiku, without giving everything away.
this persistent wave
like thunder never at rest
mirrors heart’s longing