My Words

Understanding the World through words

Month: June, 2016

Changing The Tires-Poem

I have a tire that keeps losing air;
back left tire deflates on its own.
It sends an electrical signal to my
dash and it reminds me I have a flat.

I have to drive to the service station
ask the attendant to turn on the air pump.
I take off the black plastic valve cap,
pull on the air house and insert the air valve and press until I hear a hiss. The tire slowly inflates and when I’m done, I release the pressure, put the black plastic valve cover on and leave.

After a few days of this, I make a decision to contact tire replacement stores in my area. The tires are worn from the constant driving. I’m looking for the best deal. I’ve been:

Going to work.
Going to the grocery store.
Taking my kids to school.
Picking them up from school.
Going to see my dying brother-in-law
out of state numerous times.
Going out on dates movies.
Dinners, concerts.

The back tires are worn
from all the driving
rubber on pavement
day-in—day-out.

I find a set of tires for a good price.
I walk in and patiently wait.
The room is stifling, I’m sweating.
The men sitting are talking
about sports, carbon fiber bikes,
the Golden State Warriors recent loss.

I’m uncomfortable, the air is hot and stale with a strong stench of brand new rubber.
It’s over 100 degrees and miserable.

I walk outside, the cool breeze hits my face. I find solace in the shadow of a sidewalk tree. Those inconsequential trees some city landscape architect decided to plant. Today, that tree brings me relief from the rays of the central California sun.

I see my car being parked up front.
I go back in pay the cashier get my
keys and head back out towards my car. It has two shiny back tires and they even spritzed the front ones to match. Done.

Dads-poem

When you become a father
everything changes;
priorities, time management,
the distribution of finances.

There were many times were
buying diapers outweighed golfing.
let me think…
milk or beer?
I brought home milk instead.
Changing diapers,
sleepless nights,
sharing a bed with mom.

The hardest is trying to
have adult conversations
and being interrupted
with, “I need to pee.”

“Are we there yet.”
cleaning up throw up,
building bunk beds,
helping with homework.
Adult themed movies
or
The Incredibles?

How many times do I
have to watch this movie?
I just kept it inside
and memorized the lines.

Being a father makes you
a better version of oneself
and I haven’t even gotten
to the teen years.

“I love you dad.”
a sweet kiss and a hug
it makes it all worthwhile.

Lost In Campbell-poem

I remember walking home one day
I got lost
tangled in suburbia.
Houses, driveways, warm cement sidewalks,
sunny blue skies.
I’d walk this path before many times
from elementary school and back;
frightened.
“I must have taken a wrong turn.”
My eyes water
I still dream about it.
walking through familiar streets and alleyways.
The irony of being lost in my hometown
yet at the same time
coming home.

Dante’s Place-poem

 

I wonder if Dante’s poetic place
smack in the middle of purgatory,
(it’s where all poets go after death)
all the great ones find themselves there.
Even those who never had a book deal.

After a hearty breakfast
of Huevos Rancheros
and hot steamy cafe con leche
go fishing—

In that vast ocean of metaphors
where one finds small,
sometimes shadowy,
plump, and juicy enjambments
perfect for otherworldly poems.

Then after a nice lunch of
lamb meatballs on crunchy
Dutch bread topped off with
Belgium beer,

We take a walk in the garden of similes—
Where there are lush trees full of ripe fruit
like cherries ready to be plucked, joyfully
collected in our gilded baskets.

Dinner is roasted Chilean Sea Bass
marinated in garlic and cilantro
served with a delicate glass or two
of buttery California Chardonnay.

It’s during this time
Neither in heaven or hell,
that
we recite our daily poems
one-by-one
like grace is
said after
a lovely meal.

Don’t Study Philosophy

Why you should reconsider becoming a philosophy major.

Look what happened to me:

* I hate academia and macadamia nuts.
* I think way too much—over analyze.
* I can’t buy into the status quo or any presidential nominees.
* I have an outrageous sense of humor, that frankly, no one understands.
* I am bitterly sarcastic about everything.
* I read philosophy to settle down while I drink beer—Thank you Prof. Robin Roth.
* Rather than listen to music on my way to work, I listen to erudite people explain the meaning of things. Everyone finds this boring except “moi.”
* I rather go to a book store and read Dante or Nietzsche than go to a party.
* I have a hard time understanding adults and their silly views.
* Religion and I are bitter polemical friends—
*I am a mental mess when left alone with my thoughts.

If you want to mess up your life forever be a philosophy major.

June Seventh-poem

Feeling unpoetic today—
June seventh twenty sixteen.
I’ve been contemplating
¿why?
I don’t know.
I suppose
I can describe my room:

Wide arch into the bath
nicely shadowed white.
Fan above swirling at a
moderate speed.
The TV’s on but I’m not watching.
Purely background noise.
I’m lying on my bed with legs lazily spread.

My door is open while the light gently slips in.
I can feel the warmth of summer seep in through my window shutters like a thin veil; pushed aside by the
cool breeze of the air conditioner kissing my face.