Chess

My Lover - Alexandra Gyasi

Travel List

I have these lists of things I need 
and things I want

Often related to travel plans
littered with plane tickets
 and airbnb rentals.

There's the occasional travel supply 
A suitcase, a bag
 A European outlet adapter.

Then there are odds, and ends
Gifts that I can't give without permission
Along side my personal wishlist
Purchases I've put off for too long. 

You can see passion, and work, conflate as you scan this personal wishlist
Nothing I want is purely personal, I suppose.
I need it and want it at the same time. 

I  need that new guitar, camera, microphone preamplifier, and so on...

I could have it all, or not
But I must have my plane tickets, and rentals. 
The list that pre-empts all others. 
No other wish, or passion, comes before my travel list.

Travel List

I recorded this after writing, so this poem isn't done yet. I just wanted to record it and post it right away.

Your Father

I saw your father again today
It's been several years

And he's still wearing those same glasses
that darken in the sun

He still goes to Judo classes 
And he's till putting up with your mother

He stopped immediately when he recognized me
I know he wanted to call me fish-head

Remember when you shaved my head in your bathroom
We were the best of kids then

He pointed at me in that familiar way
resembling his trigger pull

We exchanged a look that 
shared two years of memories 

Two years of meals, and documentaries
Political conversations, and punk rock

Hunting stories, and show-and-tell
He says he still hunts

You father oriented me toward libertarianism
He served in Vietnam, lost a brother, and turned hippy 

He always complained about current events
and as we stood their next to the bananas 

He said, "there's a lot of things going on..."
And I knew I'd have to get away before it was too late.

Your father is much lighter, much older
And he has a brain condition that effects his memory.

He forgot my name, and I know he wanted to call me fish-head
But he asked, because when he saw me he felt that paternal instinct 

And it had been so long since we last shook hands.
His smile was sincere, and for a moment I felt like a kid again.

Your Father

The opening lines from a new poem about crafting jokes

Writing Jokes (Pt.A - the opening lines from a new poem I'm working on) [explicit]

Hauiku Ready To Publish

An unfinished poem (sort of on purpose).

A strange thing happened on the way to the honeymoon

Like the sun holds the earth
And all the others
That’s how (I think)

Spinning, wobbling 
And off-axis
Yet on course

On that single path
That borderless spaceway
Unwilled undeviation

Like all things follow
Their path through space
That’s how (I suppose)

Flying, falling
And floating
Always onward 

On that invisible wave
That fenceless corral
Fatally faithful

Like the page pulls the person
Along an arch 
That’s how (I assume)

Tense, troubled
and turning always
restlessly onward

On that narrative
that structured plot 
deviantly devised

Le Reader