As Mona Lisa smiles at her Rembrandt

She’s Mona Lisa

looking across the lobby

With her eyes

transfixed on his cold dead body

While the kids line up

single filed and obviously

Unaware that there’s any problem

It’s a warm fall day

colored leaves spin around

And there’s this tired old man

selling shaved ice proudly

Nice to meet you sir

can I help you out

As Mona Lisa

smiles at her Rembrandt now

He was an eye sore for her eyes

it hurt so much still she had to look twice.

And there was something in her smile

lips spread thin like she was in denial.

I didn’t mean to

bother you it’s a habit

I just noticed you

looking lost or sad

With this expression

drawn like a bloody bath

Please now excuse me

I’ve gotta be getting back

Hey wait a minute

won’t you just take a second

To admit that something

is wrong in your head

And if you’d like to

call me sometime and

Chat when you’re feeling

better I’d quite like that

She wrote her name down on his ticket

her area code and seven lovely digits.

Then he wrote in the palm of her hand

a little note that read I think I’d understand.

So Mona Lisa

held her hands calm and steady

Framed herself back

against the wall already

She now felt out of place

like in a fictional setting

While some students

drew her in lines quite badly

What’s the point of hanging around

when rarely any good comes to you in this town.

Thats when she placed her name tag on the floor

and made out for Leonardo exiting the door.

a caged artist

I never met an artist I didn’t like

I just tasted their breathe

from an arms length away

and

when they told me drunkenly

to go to hell

at least I knew they meant it

so while she tore off her clothes

like a caged animal

in the center of a Williamsburg high-rise

a slave to her own bizarre fashion

I could see it there, her passion

exhibited like a gallery of fine art

and her hair

painted in oils hyper-realistic

she would drive herself wild

though couldn’t quite blend her canvas

into the madness she became

hysterical so

closing the cage I left

knowing

there wasn’t more I could do

than allow her the respect and dignity

to clean up her own mess.

poetry is spam

A large portion of

poetry is spam.

But I don’t eat that stuff,

at least not until I get to see Hawaii

then who knows?

I hear, fried with an egg, it’s good.

When in Rome, you know;

when in Rome.

that tiny speck of the world

people were funny like that

one minute you’d be hating them all

and the next you’d be falling in love

with every single one of em

because they were all beautiful

and ugly, starry eyed and wild

tolerating crazy with kindness

and even if not listening

just being there

made all the difference in

that tiny speck of the world

where nobody knew anyone more

than he or she even knew themselves

One for the kid trying to be strong

The other day

I had a good cry

but to tell you the truth,

I really don’t know why.

Perhaps it was the past

or future, or present

it doesn’t really matter though

just so long as it happened.

Because sometimes the universe

can make you feel ill.

Other times though it can give you a thrill.

And on those occasions where

the walls trap you in

it’s natural to flood your way

up and out again!

Another word to an unborn son

Some day
out of nowhere
your mood
will shift
from one hundred percent
to zero,

and you will feel sad

and you will feel weak

and you will feel vulnerable,

and that’s good
that’s natural
that’s life,
so get used to it,
it’s a beautiful thing
even when it hurts most.