Sunday, September 29, 2013

Thoughts for Mom on her Birthday


On a typical day
Happiness is over looked
It’s just something
That you’re bound to see again
Nothing to dwell on
But sometimes
We barely realize what things
Actually do make us
Genuinely
Happy

Like cracking an egg
With perfect precision
Or jumping off those last
Few steps in the morning
Stepping on crunchy leaves
Knocking something over
And then catching it “like a ninja”
I love knowing the right spot to scratch
On my dog to make him dance
The smell of fresh bread
Or hitting that snooze button
Even though you know you shouldn’t
The delicate craft of eating the last bite on a Popsicle
And eating the last bit
From the bottom of the chip bag
I love lying in bed and listening to the rainfall
Or helping a worm cross the street

And what if this is happiness
A slow distribution
Of these tiny acts
And maybe now you’ll stop
And be happy
And catch up on your list
Of small
Beautiful
Moments



Happy Birthday, Mom

              Love, Alex  

Friday, September 6, 2013

You're in Georgia


WHEN EVERYTHING YOU DO COULD END AT THE HOSPITAL
WHEN GUMMY WORMS ARE PAIRED WITH WINE
WHEN YOU’RE SLIGHTLY AFRAID TO EAT YOUR FOOD
IN FEAR OF BEING BLOWN UP
YOU KNOW YOU’RE IN GEORGIA

WHEN NO ONE’S AFRAID AT THE SOUND OF GUNSHOTS
WHEN THE GRITS DON’T EASILY COME OUT OF THEIR CUPS
WHEN THE MOST COMMON QUESTION IS
“CAN WE BLOW IT UP”
YOU KNOW YOU’RE IN GEORGIA

WHEN YOU CONSTANTLY HAVE POCKETS FULL OF AMMO
WHEN YOU SET KIDS TO WORK ON EXPLOSIVE MIXING
WHEN THE ALARM CLOCK IN THE MORNING
IS THE HOWLING OF DOGS HOPING TO BE CHOSEN FOR THE JEEP
YOU KNOW YOU’RE IN GEORGIA

WHEN YOU EAT ALLIGATOR FOLLOWED BY CATFISH (BOTH FRIED)
WHEN THE RINGING IN YOUR EARS NEVER STOPS
WHEN YOU PUSH YOUR WAY TO THE FRONT OF THE CROWD
TO GET YOUR FAVORITE GUIDE AT THE JEEPS
YOU KNOW YOU’RE IN GEORGIA

WHEN YOUR VIEW OUT THE WINDOW IS SCATTERING GOATS
WHEN COOKIES ARE CONSIDERED “HEALTHY”
WHEN YOU END THE DAY WITH A BRUISE THE SIZE OF A BASEBALL
THAT MAKES YOU LOOK LIKE YOU GOT IN A FIST FIGHT
YOU KNOW YOU’RE IN GEORGIA

WHEN NO ONE EVER HAS TROUBLE SLEEPING
WHEN YOU GO TO BED WITH EXPLOSIVE DUST ON YOUR FINGERS
WHEN YOUR ONLY DRINK OPTION
IS SWEET TEA OR ICED TEA
YOU KNOW YOU’RE IN GEORGIA





My Crooked Mind




A labyrinth lives
In my brain
Constructed of mushy, beautiful
Cogs and wheels 
That sing when they spin
That muddles sounds and light
Into wonderful fuzzy aromas
It bends space and time
To allow me to take
As long as I need
It hooks and latches
Onto the oddest ideas
And lets structural dull ones
Slide
My mind is not structurally sound
It is constantly whirring
At speeds unimaginably diverse
Mostly quick and witty
But it occasionally chugs and puffs
Until it threatens to crash altogether
My mind confuses my mind
Which upsets my thinking
And then I end up thinking
Something
Entirely
Different
Then it snaps back like a rubber band
And I get back to business
Sort of
It will then decide to paint a picture
Of an operatic number
Which I can’t figure out
It thinks by itself
Mostly remarkably accurate
But sometimes it blips
And makes me wonder if I really
Just thought of such a thing
Finally I figure out
That I have work to do
And it goes back to
Whirring and chugging
And puffing and bending
Until it finds something else to cling to