scott from jail

Poems
$400,000 (8/19/10)
War these days, and the dead of it,
And the sadness of it
Like a fancy bed
Bought with cash upfront.
A Personal Sonnet Quartet (6/2/11)
Today she leaves, and victory is here!
Upon the wings of ravens, off she flies
Into the great apothecary skies
Arson (6/23/11)
Black, charred stakes writhing from the ground
Bent serpents gaping at the air
Ash left to blow like crystalized smoke
Wrenching height
While newly unemployed looked on
Wondering "Why?"
Begin! Begin! (5/19/11)
Here a child-son-sun, there a child-daughter-moon,
Here a Jupiter of thin spectacles staring down, a Mars of broom closets
An office-manager as Venus, a Pluto-Hades of midnight streets
counting blessings (11/28/13)
We are not alone here.
We are waiting for something and this is where we wait, in this jail cell.
We do not know what we are waiting for, but we are here together.
We are not guilty.
We are completely innocent.
crazy (9/15/11)
There in the electric magic pages
Of Verizon-droid land, filled with sprinting, hinting white
Lies my love for truth
Egypt With 600 Dead (2/17/11)
Today Mubarek, Yesterday Tunisia,
Perhaps tomorrow a Syria, Yemen, Saudi Arabia,
Lebanon, Palestinian Authority, Jordan -
Israel will miss Mubarek and his 600 dead.
Euclidean geometry (10/3/13)
...A rain in Paris,
glittering grey and green beneath the pedestrian bridge, lovers
Forgetting that in their arms and breath
evening prayers (9/12/13)
Hear me, hear me, says the stove
And I am awake in some crazy way
delusional, not sad,
whilst the fire pops, her name a buzzing whirr,
For John Hagee, Minister of God (4/28/11)
I see your fat hulking diabetic weight
Holding forth for Israel
And no word of Jesus Christ
For Wilfred Owen (4/28/11)
I saw from the window, far into the valley
Mist entrenched, floating over the ruptured apple trees
Wide enough to border death, black and stinking smoke
A woman who, on narrowed straights and crookeds,
Gadafi's sons (4/7/11)
Gadafi's sons
Now that bombs torch their Libyan blues
Discretely hate
Eighty-year old fathers
growing up (6/20/13)
I am not there, but I was there.
I do not do that, but I did it often.
I have no more of those, but once I was rich with them.
Hard to believe (11/11/10)
Sometimes "impossible" is nothing but
The bare necessities
Bursting forward -
Blinding the shadows surrounding
heaven (1/19/12)
I saw a presentation today
about leadership in Afghanistan
not much was said, really,
a lot of waiting for punch lines
that never came
Hope (10/28/10)
They said today
That Democrats will lose big time,
The house, senate, and presidency
How does this go? (5/19/11)
Small leaves, the very last of summer,
Haven't dropped from the plum tree outside
Yet.
How's about YOU? (9/2/10)
Springtime in Iraq
Probably has no starters
In Central Illinois where I was born
Amidst the cornstalks, black, rich soil, blue, hard sky
I don't know where you are (3/21/13)
There, like a small something dark perhaps, like shadow
like a floating something in the air or wind
fragrance of some forgotten thing, a scent of oil from a place no longer permitted
I want to sail, to someday draw a close (9/16/10)
I want to sail, to someday draw a close
To all the hills I can not overcome
Inspect Jerusalem, Gaza, Tiberias, Hebron,
To feel Abraham and Jesus walk nearby
I was just here (10/7/10)
There is something about the Abu Grahib
Crucifixion Form standing
At attention, arms stretched out, hooded,
Like a crown of anonymous thorns
Covering perhaps a young Palestinian boy
Or one of their sympathizers
ice (2/6/14)
In little, tiny, and reflecting ice-like moments
let me etch my face
Iraq at night (5/9/13)
Suddenly, as if the rain stopped, leaving behind dew, a wet, light kidding the sun
gleaming as if everything stopped, but the crystal and the light reflected,
and then stopped more, like a silence caught, bounded, measured in hand
captured even like a breath, like the still small beating of a life not yet
Iraq Homecoming (4/11/13)
Iraq is a fog in the night,
shadow of the invisible
Iraq was also there (2/7/13)
and then a grave, yesterday packed into a box
a little cage of white
cardboard, buried, left under it all,
under the growing of it all
under foot.
irritable lately (3/20/14)
The news says today that Putin will own the Crimea
And that it is good that we understand that international law exists
Is Jesus Listening, and If So, (12/23/10)
Is Jesus listening?
Am I doing anything right these days?
It is not unexpected (5/31/12)
It may have been too much
Life turned upside down
Loading bullets into the thin chambers of well trained soldiers
Walking memoryless now into the night
Jeremiah (12/29/11)
Iraq grovels these days like a bandito caught
in a net of vice
Smallish by comparison
to what is coming, monstrous alien hoard
Lebanon (6/16/11)
Does the sky over Lebanon, that ancient blue
Stretching Pharoh, Joseph, Caesar into a sweaty, marching One
Crumble these days with rockets
Like little rocks jarred from clouds
Too sad to rain?
little things (6/20/13)
I have also been thinking too much,
wrapping it all up in paper, one after the next,
like a great canopy of something grand, waiting there in the wings
waiting for me as if I was a Caesar, masquerading in quiet little ways,
little ways.
a scream for old time's sake.
Miss You (6/20/13)
Simple as Tao framed upon the dirt and dusty hills of eastern North Dakota
waiting for us like the angel guarding Eden
Money, and paying dues (1/20/11)
I sometimes wonder if this little planet, black ball of watered stone
Spinning madly twixt unnumbered stars
Can stand the weight of one more numbered bill
Accounting to ourselves how power rises, falls, collapses, careens
And the like
morning comes to Armageddon (9/12/13)
I lie in this room typing, juggling notes, staring at the acne-bump ceiling
Not in pain or despair
listening to the not-too-distant grinding machinery of a garbage truck
lifting with large metallic arms
Not alone (12/13/12)
Alone
is never alone
But just the waiting of it,
the lick of lips
before feasting.
now what? (7/26/12)
In small spaces
Let me be
a quiet
anomaly
Queen of Christmas (1/6/11)
The missiles and nuclear war they imply
Bother me less
Than my own thoughtlessness
Here next to Malmstrom Air Force Base
Reverie (3/21/13)
That night the cursing of God came out
like a hot black pudding waiting for insight
but nothing came
Revolution (9/1/11)
Looking for god, or God, or G-d
In the theology section
Prefering of course the cheaper prices marked
"Clearance."
The economy is bad these days.
I can't afford enlightenment.
So clearance looks
Better all the time.
Rich Fat Cats (1/26/12)
Heaviness and the dark rung eyes
Bagged, fifty, sad, cornered-
Looking for contributions from rich fat cats
secret top (7/15/10)
I know why we bomb
But it is a secret...
Lies sometimes are secret ... too ...
smallish things (4/19/12)
I see Mitt Romney has taken charge
of Illinois
Making mincemeat
of lesser things
Someone Else's War? (9/12/13)
I missed the date to send a care package
not because I do not care
but because the artificiality of the thing seems so contrived
something blue (12/15/11)
Clouds of dusty years
swelling in the rear-view mirror of time
settling eventually
And in the distance
All seems smaller, escaped
Sonnet (7/28/11)
For you, the skies were rolling on their hinge,
The bluest blues which happy light contrives,
The lovliest of glories slightly singed
By fires too deep to ever know our knives
Sonnet (8/18/11)
When every part of nothing falls to less
And every scream of torture is unstilled,
When wounds which now unloose the night are chilled
Into a potion or a woman's dress -
Sonnet (8/25/11)
And so we wonder, ever looking back,
Why did we set the fuse and light Iraq?
Sonnet (10/20/11)
Perhaps the clouds that cover morning now
Their windiness so caustic and forelorn
The rocking of the willow at the bough
The lantern stirring on its crooked thorn
Sonnet (11/24/11)
I did not know that yesterday was here.
Perhaps I should have.  
                                          Yet believing it
would scarcely make it fonder or more clear.
It's hard to say which makes the better fit.
sonnet of becoming (6/20/13)
You were not the final nor the beginning of something, no
these were just the thoughts of something, mysterious, perhaps, and then
like the breeze covering the valley with a wreath of simple flowers
gone, and nothing more
Suicide #3214 (3/17/11)
The paper reported recently that the number of soldiers killed by suicide now exceeds the number killed in actual combat. I forget, and do not care, about the exact number, but it was in the thousands.
The private was young
And old
When he picked up the soon-to-be self-mutilating rifle
And put it down
Pulling the trigger, a bloody mess
Summertime (8/11/11)
Summer this year rolled in late
This is the first day, maybe
Of the slow, lethargic luxe of sleeping with the windows open
sunset (7/14/11)
This evening the sky glowed pink
a desperate rose filling up the evening square of window
mocking nothing- just there
As war is there, as life is just there...
Syria (3/8/12)
Strangling the city of Homs
Violently
As if one can strangle a birth
The beach (6/20/13)
When I saw you first, standing there, mesmerizing me, with a calm fate,
how was I to know the whole end of it all, the flower's petal blowing in the fall,
the colored light of August, autumn, snow, and night,
each one covering the south like cloth, wrinkled between the trees
the opposite of poetry (2/6/14)
White walls without doors
lived in as never-ending necessity
Drip by drip goes the florescent buzzing light
Mirroring all without mentioning it
Time to go (10/21/10)
I haven't had the time to think of how my daughter
Wanted to enlist, way back when, asking
For my advice, listening, and then, quietly
Going her own way, grace our country's recruitment
Two Sonnets (2/3/11)
These days exude a darkness labelled "light",
A flurried haste of pessimistic lies
Where all seems well, thin-lipped and non-contrite
While Wal-Mart ammunition gaily flies
Used to care about the cross of Christ (11/18/10)
We have gone on in our own self-created Facebook way
That now all we have left to ourselves is communal death
In blogs - Did we used to sing in the streets?
war (9/12/13)
I've wasted half a day in being sick,
deposited by the continent of Australia in a Sydney strain
Was this me? (5/19/11)
Today the mailman was not met or seen -
His little one-man caravan
Speeds in reverse while dodging error and other cars -
Even in the freshly fallen snow he rumbles, bumbles by,
Backwards pointing in some crazy opera to himself and time card
Why and then something not (12/9/10)
When I sit here, contemplating stones fitted into blocks
Of concrete fitted into walls supporting buildings of
Iron gates, plastic windows, linoleum floors, armed
Guards, strip searches, cavity checks attempted,
Why Not? (12/2/10)
She,
Dante-described she-wolf,
Was googling that night...
wondering how the world ends and then doing yard work (1/24/13)
Haunted, as in the back of your head,
hitting a thousand empty angles
wondering if death is like this,
if the silent ripples of black ponds are this,
if the diseases of the mind, breathing life's contagion are this