Blog Archives - Bulls Bard--The Verses

Game 58

2/28/2016

CHI 95 POR 103

Michael, there’s no “I” in “team.”
No, but there is an “I” in “win.”

I used to love playing volleyball.

It was an experiment
In ethics.

Competition
Forces us to ask questions.

Who am I?

There was always a moment--

Take another man’s chance
Or let him fail?

Lose together
Or win alone?

Certain songs--
Pop songs, usually--
Seem like jokes
When I first hear them.

And then I hear them
And hear them
And hear them--

And then
Suddenly
I get it.

This song kicks ass.

Like Milkshake
Or Hey Ya.

But others--

Man.

I just turn off the radio.

Game 57

2/27/2016

CHI 88 ATL 103

Intimacy
Inside-out.

The fallen angel.

One singular point
Exploded out into infinity.

Scattered and
Magnetized
And blind.

Hunting.
Gathering.

As far apart
As Heaven and
Earth.

As close together
As the two sides
Of your skin.

Cut deepest
By a mirrored blade.

Game 56

2/25/2016

CHI 109 WAS 104

I have been teaching
Four years now.

That whole time
We worked to conceive.

And that whole time
I called my students
My kids.

Now I have a daughter.

How does love work?

Can we run out?

I remember when my dad died.

That first breath
A question.

An untested hypothesis.

I had never
Had to breathe
Alone.

Game 55

2/22/2016

CHI 126 LAL 115
For Kobe Bryant

I used to be a dj.

But then,
One day,
I stopped being cool enough.

The music
The kids wanted to hear--
I didn’t really get it
Anymore.

And I was forced
To move on.

Game 54

2/20/2016

CHI 116 TOR 106

One--
Period--

Confidence is everything.

Two--
Period--

High school feels like forever
But it’s not forever.

Forever
Happens after high school
And the rules are way different.

Keep your eyes on
The horizon.

Three--

In high school
My crew was made up of mostly musicians.

Band kids
Turned metalheads.

Acid eating eagle scouts
Stumbling clumsily through puberty.

Goofy giggling weirdos
Hiding in our heads.

We were not the popular kids--

Not like Walter Clements.

I hated Walter Clements
With what could best be called a
He’s-just-jealous type of hate.

Childish.

He made it look so easy.

Bond with the ladies.
Clear skin.

Captain of the cool kids.

Nice, too.

I couldn’t fucking stand him.

He’d come to all the parties
Strutting like a peacock--
All confidence and charisma.

The star of the show.

Talking to girls
Like it was no big deal.

But then something strange and wonderful happened.

High school ended--

Like scaffolding
Tumbling accidentally
From a fractured facade.

Noisy and messy and chaotic--

And forever began.

Game 53

2/19/2016

CHI 95 CLE 106

As a boy
I collected cards
And action figures.

I would look at them
And play with them
And cherish them.

And if something better came along--

I would trade them.

Head forward.
Eyes to the future.

We burn through our childhoods
Trading this moment
For the next.

Until suddenly
We are grown.

And then we focus our collections.

We stop gathering up
Tradable assets

To make space
For the pieces that really matter.

And to make space
For each other.

As a man,
I am still a collector,

But not like before.

What used to be posters on my wall
Are now pages in a book
On a shelf.

A book about me.

Folded and filed away.

What used to fill my trophy case
Now clutters up my storage space.

Boxed, stacked, and labeled.

Waiting--

Like a legacy.

Game 52

2/11/2016

CHI 90 ATL 113

School busses are yellow
With blinking red lights.
They are supposed
To be that way.

School busses are yellow
With big black wheels.
They roll you here
Then roll away.

Neighborhood children
With blinking brown eyes,
They are supposed
To come and learn.

Neighborhood children
With swing-set moms,
Dropped off by a bus
That won’t return.

And I am like
Those blinking lights:
Supposed to be protecting you.

But then I turned
And rolled away.

I am like a school bus, too.

Game 51

2/9/2016

CHI 91 CHA 108

What walks on three legs in the morning...
-The Riddle of the Sphinx

Part 1

I write in the morning
Because that’s when I’m most honest.

We have filters
That get stronger through time.

Filters that distort honesty--
Turn it into something else.

Something just as important.

Part 2

I learned Spanish as an adult,
Sort of.

Pretty impossible
To really learn a language
As a grownup.

Especially in college.

But I was in school
Studying to become a teacher--

And so I minored in Spanish
Because I’m smart.

But once I was in those
Upper-level classes,
All the other students
We’re native speakers.

Actually fluent.

And I may have gotten better grades,
But they sure as hell
Had it easier.

Jibbering and jabbering the whole time,
While I stared at the instructor’s lips--

Squinting--
Holding my breath.

Like a sniper.

The point is this:

Language is learned
Through imitation.

So shit kids say
Is shit kids hear.

Part 3

In elementary school,
Kids knew way more
About my home life
Then I had told them.

And one day
When the teacher was chastising me
For falling asleep in class--

Allende announced:
His daddy’s a drunk!

That was all it took.

Looking back,
I can’t help wondering
If he was coming to my defense.

Like:
Leave him alone, teacher.
His dad was probably drunk.
And he didn’t have nobody
Looking after him.

But the thing is
He was right.

My daddy was a drunk.

And so I punched Allende
And then punched him some more.

And maybe it wasn’t
His whoopin to take,

But he took it
Like a champ.

Game 50

2/7/2016

CHI 105 MIN 112

3 True Stories About Fatherhood

#1

Briana met her daddy
On the day she turned sixteen.

She was bragging about it
The whole next week.

Her auntie--
Her daddy’s sister--
Had taken her.

It wasn’t that scary--
Not really.

She must have got
Her daddy’s bravery.

Her little brother
Was too afraid to go.

He had heard
Too many times
That he had got his daddy’s
Kind brown eyes--

But also his temper.

And if he didn’t watch out,
He would end up
Just like him.

#2

Between hits of a joint,
J. spoke excitedly.

I think it’s good
I never knew my father.

That he took off
When I was just a kid.

This way,
I don’t have to be like him.

I’m not doomed
To repeat his mistakes.

A clean slate
For my son.

Holy shit!
I’m gonna be a dad!

And now I hear
He’s back around.

My brother saw him
At a party.

#3

Angela
Got a flower
For her birthday.

A rose

Drawn
By her father
Who lives in a cage.

She was so proud
When she showed it to me.

Beaming.
Like a light.

Perfect
Patient
Gangster calligraphy

Spelling out her name:

ANGELA

Isn’t he amazing?
She asked.

It’s beautiful,
I responded.

It's really beautiful.

Game 49

2/6/2016

CHI 110 DEN 115

As we pulled through the gate,
Everyone on the bus got real quiet--

Everyone except Kevin,
Of course.

Hey Coach,
I think that fence
Is supposed to keep
People like us
Out.

Lucky we got this yellow bus.

Shit,
I need to get me one of these.

About half of us laughed.
He was right.

Lides chimed in:
I think my daddy
Built this fence.

Kevin:
Fool,
You don’t know your daddy.

Again
About half of us laughed.

Again
He was right.

Walking into the school
Was even weirder.

This was a straight-up
Professional-level
Athletic training facility.

Damn.
We’re gonna get our ass kicked.

In the locker room--
That was clean
And had showers
Instead of rats--

Coach gave a speech
About how we
Belonged here--

About how
All this stuff
Is just stuff.

And that
Stuff
Doesn’t show strength of character.

And how
Once we get out on the court,
It doesn’t matter
Where we come from.

And I could tell
How bad
A few of these kids
Wanted to believe him.

How bad
He wanted to believe it
Himself.

Rough game.

We slouched into halftime
Down forty-five.

And then,
In the third quarter,
Lides rolled his ankle
And was lost for the season.

Their cheerleaders
Cheered for him
Like they had practiced it.

They called him a
Mighty Panther
While he cried
On the floor.

And one of many fathers in the crowd--
A doctor--
Rushed over to help.

Examined him.

Comforted him.
And told him
That everything was going to be alright.

And I could tell
How bad
A few of these kids
Wanted to believe him.

How bad
He wanted to believe it
Himself.