Lost In Thought

  Manchester, New Hampshire

  Spooned Deep

  Listening to the sounds

  Buried deep so deep

  In the complexities

  Of the background

  The littlest things

  That others seem

  To always miss

  That’s what I

  Specialize in

  That’s what I

  Like in my bowl

  Coated with sugar

  And spooned deep

  Into the nooks and

  Crannies of the folds

  And bends of my brain

  Sounds slathered like rain

  Melodies on which I’m sold

  November 9, 2003

  Manchester, New Hampshire

  Very off-the-cuff.

  11:11

  11:11

  On

  11/11

  Too many ones

  All in one place

  Huge palindrome

  Action in my face

  Too much sameness

  But it’s ok this way

  In fact I kinda like it

  Something comforting

  Something calming

  Can’t stop staring

  At the digital clock

  Only for a minute

  And not a second longer

  Because by then

  The continuity of it all

  Will be ruined

  Best not to think about it

  Until it happens

  November 11, 2003

  Manchester, New Hampshire

  Mega-palindrome day. I usually find myself staring at certain times on the clock like 11:11 but that time seems super special today.

  Second-Guess

  Do it now

  Don’t think

  Don’t take the time

  To mull anything over

  No pauses

  No chances

  No hesitation

  No repetition

  No repenting

  No way to

  Second-guess

  Just a one-off

  And done with it

  Raw and unrehearsed

  Saw it all unearthed

  The spontaneity

  The honesty

  The passion

  Is undiluted

  Not polluted

  By overproducing

  Constant worrying

  And the reworking

  That comes with

  Too much tinkering

  And too much thinking

  November 23, 2003

  Manchester, New Hampshire

  Just reading Juliana Hatfield’s web site and I saw the word “secondguess”…all one big run on word and it struck me to immediately open Word and start typing.

  Fruit On The Bottom

  She likes her Dannon

  The kind with the

  Fruit on the bottom

  Every time she reaches

  For a yogurt it always

  Seems to be the type

  With the fruit on the bottom

  Instinctively drawn in some way

  That is somewhat difficult to explain

  Especially with the current flavor

  Held tightly in her greedy little hand

  But too much of one flavor

  Kinda sorta tends to make her

  Get sick of it and shop around

  And end up dropping the old one

  Deep in the trash with the others

  Once some newer flavor is found

  November 25, 2003

  Manchester, New Hampshire

  Ah, the fickleness of supermarket shopping.

  December

  Bigger Man

  From what I'm told

  I'm the bigger man

  I'm the winner

  In this situation

  Hard to feel so big

  When I feel so small

  Like a last-placed loser

  Or unwanted leftovers

  Inside feelings versus

  Outside appearances

  The innards are never

  The winners

  Ever at all

  December 12, 2003

  Manchester, New Hampshire

  Remembering a conversation I had with a friend a while back and my feelings about it.

  Living The One Way Ticket

  Living the one way ticket

  Riding this until the end

  Not knowing

  Not caring

  When it’ll stop

  Whenever is fine with me

  Enjoying the sights

  Enjoying the sounds

  Enjoying the lights

  Enjoying what I’ve found

  Doing everything I want

  Doing everything I can

  Fit on this trip I’m taking

  Not caring about

  Luggage or baggage

  Since I know

  I can’t take it with me

  When I get to my stop

  Just trying to record it all

  As a beacon to everyone

  The friends I’ve known

  The ones I’ve never met

  As an inspiration to others

  To live a life without regret

  December 12, 2003

  Manchester, New Hampshire

  The first line came from another poem I was working on (“Common Goal”) and it didn’t fit…but I was so impressed with it I started and finished this one.

  My Style Is Now

  “My style is now”

  I overheard someone say

  And I turned to see

  A man in his forties

  Wearing camouflage pants

  Dirty bandana sitting on his head

  Crusty hair running down his neck

  Like an out of control greasy waterfall

  Gritty untied work boots on his feet

  As he hit on the clerk

  At the engraving store

  At the mall

  December 19, 2003

  Andover, Massachusetts

  I was at Things Remembered at the Mall At Rockingham Park, to pick up the stuff we had engraved for our hotel’s holiday party last night, and this happened.

  A Big Step

  A mother about my age

  On the people-mover

  With a toddler girl

  Prepping her

  Telling her

  Coaching her

  To take a big step

  At the end of the

  Moving walkway

  As she gives a helping lift

  And they make it

  Safely back on stable land

  Five steps to the left

  And they immediately

  Do a 180

  Big step back on

  And back down they go

  Down the other side

  To do it again

  December 25, 2003

  Dulles International Airport, Dulles, Virginia

  This was a really heart-warming scene. Airports can probably be very boring awful places for little kids, but this mom was making it fun for her little girl.

  One Year Ago

  One year ago I sat alone

  With a drink in front me

  So very newly alone

  On Christmas night

  More depressed

  Than I've ever been

  More hopeless

  Than I ever thought

  Possible

  Impossible

  To think a year before

  She and I were happy

  And celebrating

  The season

  The last year alone

  Got me thinking

  Where would I be

  Next Christmas

  Well, next Christmas

  Is now this Christmas

  And here I sit

  On a plane with a

  Smile on my lips

  Thinking back upon

  The best year

&n
bsp; I've ever had

  True, I was alone,

  In a relationship sense,

  But I discovered

  I won't

  Shrivel up and die

  And I discovered

  I don't

  Need to be together

  To keep a smile on my face

  Which grows wider

  Thinking wondering

  Speculating hoping

  Of what wonderful

  Amazing things will

  Happen to me and

  Where I will be

  Next Christmas

  December 25, 2003

  On a flight from Washington DC to Oakland, CA

  2004

  January

  Pisces Drowning

  In the light she hates it

  In the dark she needs it

  In the drink swimming

  Despite her best intentions

  She's at it yet again

  Sign bound to water

  She can't go without

  Sinking ever deeper

  With every passing weekend

  Stealing more of her

  Standing here on land

  Watching her go under

  I know she'll come back up

  But for how much longer

  Will she want to return?

  She's fighting the boredom

  And dying a little each time

  I hate watching this happen

  So I have a buoy at the ready

  Just in case she needs saving

  I know I shouldn’t be concerned

  But I know all the signs she shows

  Even the ones difficult to discern

  And I don’t think she wants to be saved

  It’s hard watching

  People looking

  Down frowning

  And hearing

  Them talking

  Not caring about

  Pisces drowning

  January 10, 2004

  Andover, Massachusetts

  Concerns inwardly voiced.

  Building The Facade

  Building the facade

  The front for all to see

  Structurally silly

  Visibly meaningless

  Entirely unnecessary

  That’s how it needs to be

  Why didn't they consult me?

  I could've explained

  I could've told them

  But they'd have none of it

  Dismiss me as being full of it

  That’s fine, have it your way

  I’ve had my chance to say

  To point out the futility

  Of what you're doing today

  January 11, 2004

  Andover, Massachusetts

  I was reading You Shall Know Our Velocity! By Dave Eggers when the title line popped into my head. Don’t ask me because I have no idea what it’s about.

  Pavlovian Conditioning

  Our friendship is like

  A one-way mirror

  And I feel like a terror

  Suspect in interrogation

  Emotional litigation

  Dragging on and on

  When it should have died

  Way back when you lied

  To me that fateful day

  But no, we stayed friends

  And now I wonder when

  Our friendship’ll go one way

  (More so than now)

  When you need someone

  To talk to, and listen to you

  You don’t hesitate to call

  When I want someone to talk to

  Calling isn’t at all an option

  I can voicemail you at work

  Or a quick email.

  Only when you have a free bit of time

  Days later, you’ll reply back

  Only when you have a problem

  That you want me to help with

  I’m starting to question you

  And your deep down motives

  Longtime friends shrug and say

  It’s been going on for years

  Only I’ve been blinded by

  My Pavlovian conditioning

  I’ve been so well trained

  I don’t know anything else.

  But now I know and I refuse

  To be a part of this experiment

  It needs to stop now

  Because I’m sick of being used

  January 12, 2004

  Manchester, New Hampshire

  The Girl Who Cried Crutch

  Your crutch isn't in its place

  It’s not where you left it

  You expected it to be there

  Like it always has

  As long as you could remember

  When you needed to lean

  It was there

  Right where

  You left it

  Right where

  It’s always been

  You used it to get by

  Even when you

  Didn’t need it

  Just for fun

  You’d use it

  Such a subtle

  Simply discreet

  Form of torture

  More like some

  Hook, line, sinker

  Emotional dragging

  Lingering on and on

  For too many years

  Like the boy who cried wolf

  You’re the girl who cried crutch

  And when you needed to lean

  For once for real this time

  You'll fall flat on your face

  Because I’ve wised up

  And finally moved on

  January 12, 2004

  Manchester, New Hampshire

  How I’ve been viewing things in my mind as of late.

  Tried And Sampled

  Relying on memories

  Really isn't for me

  Since they hold nothing

  And always try thwarting

  All my best intentions

  So instead I believe in

  Living life like a buffet

  Sampling something

  Different every day

  Returning nothing

  Untouched or

  Untested for

  We all pay

  The same price in the end

  And when the day is done

  Would I rather reminisce

  On what I saw was available

  Or what I tried and sampled

  Since vicarious existence

  Is no match for

  Real living experience

  January 31, 2004

  Andover, Massachusetts

  I was up until about 2am in the early morning of January 31 reading You Shall Know Our Velocity! And after I had stopped reading for the night and turned over to go to sleep, this was practically writing itself, so I grabbed my Palm Pilot and tried to keep up.

  February

  Embering Pile

  Setting fire to my sensibilities

  I think I’ve been here before

  But honestly, I’m not sure

  I wish someone'd remember for me

  I wish I could even faintly see

  What the future holds

  So I know with some certainty

  What’s in store for me

  Will I finally settle down

  Or will I see life’s remnants

  Burned and charred all around

  Everywhere I look

  Caused by the poor choices

  And misguided actions

  I carelessly leapt into

  Or sometimes

  Stumbled through

  Any way it’s looked at

  If I’m ever faced

  With a smoking

  And embering pile

  Of what used to be

  The things I once held dear

  I’ll know that I’ll have

  No one to lay the blame on

  Since I chose the direction

  Of this life that I steer

  February 12,
2004

  Manchester, New Hampshire

  The first line of this poem is something that surfaces in my thoughts every once in a while. I honestly can’t remember if I’ve used that phrase in another poem (and if I have, oh well), but either way I took and expanded on it.

  The Winter That Wasn’t

  The winter that wasn't

  So very few of those days

  The kind that find you

  Swaddling yourself silly

  In the warmest comforter

  Hot cocoa in hand

  Mellow music in the background

  The mood set

  Sitting, staring

  Out the large picture window

  Past the disappearing car

  Watching the sky

  Restore the purity

  To our dirty city

  Not this year though

  So few snow days

  Instead it's been bitter cold

  Looking at packed ice

  And dead frozen lawn

  Sets no moods

  Inspires nothing

  But the wishing

  The longing

  And the hurrying

  Of the next season

  February 24, 2004

  Manchester, New Hampshire

  It’s been bitter cold with none of the niceties that you look forward to with winter.

  Experiences Of A Hotelier

  Once you’ve been

  You’ll know.

  Once you’ve seen

  You’ll believe.

  You can’t fathom

  Until you’ve lived though

  Until you’ve seen life

  From behind the desk.

  When you know

  What goes on

  Here, beyond the doors

  Experiences of a hotelier

  Are past normal comprehension

  Way too much information

  Brushed with complication

  Most want out

  In the worst kind of way

  Most can’t handle

  What the guests often say

  But I’m used to it

  Because I’ve done this

  For too many years

  In too many hotels

  So many things

  That would curl

  The hair of an ordinary person

  Thirsting for situations

  Unusual and consensual

  From the sorta messed up

  To way-beyond fucked up,

  And then some.

  Thousands of guests

  So many stories

  The famous

  The infamous

  And everyone in between

  We’ve been there

  We’ve seen it all

  We know what happens

  Behind our walls

  February 28, 2004

  Manchester, New Hampshire

  I was on Tori Amos’ web site and saw how her new compilation is called Tales Of A Librarian and it got me thinking about the countless and interesting stories that hotel people have.