Wednesday, February 17, 2010

The Snow Drifter



Empty lines dream
scheming for a different scene
leaping into foreign themes
lackluster and honest

I have to confess
that along the ride of this mess
I dropped off my dignity
at the exit ramp of distress

fleeing, digging deep into the grain of dirt

Sifting through the leftovers
sitting on someone's fantasy
losing self on the locomotive shore
staring, gaping, gawking

crying

emptiness fulfills my daily whims
like moths through my sweater

the horizon burns
directions revolve around my head
speeding, drifting, finding no one left
beating down this slope

haunting,
hunted without

- gypsy george.

Saturday, January 16, 2010



So, this is what happens late night riding the D-Train back to South Slope...

Tuesday, January 12, 2010



contention to the wind
brisk, purple breeze
as it speak of this residue like bursting embers
hot, burgundy flames

rising, creeping afar
stealing crimson verse from an ancient poet
a fedora tilted to the right
a coffee-stained diner plate

a road-trip down horizon's pinhead
a peculiar mustiness
filled with number two pencils
cut into sections

made for scripting the intention of this mood.

- gypsy george.

Saturday, January 9, 2010



Ice capped mountain-tops
silver ropes of moonbeam glances
sweeps along the gushing madness
pelting against winter's wind

I believe the crossroads have already departed

strum, strum
this machine is my life's gun
I can see through destiny and fate

blue, blue
silly Hawaiian songs,
ukulele, Ha`o ana i kou nani ë

slow dancing under the howl of Louis Armstrong

staying firmly warned
warming to passion's myth
marching to the beat of ardor
along this distant shore

finds us torn between the fray of heart and soul

I won't be lonely
I won't forget the devotion
I'll smile

I'll remember May

- gypsy george.

Saturday, December 5, 2009

a lover's lullaby.




Whispers
long, soft, distracting
tap along
crossword puzzles and forgiveness.

Laughter
fades, haunts, remembers
by fire
exhausted mental breakdown foes.

Kisses
smile, deep, wondering
if by light
the turmoil can forever fade.

Loving
feels warm, bottomless
like lonely
weeping willows tilting in rain.

My mind
has fallen asleep.
My mind's eye
begins to cry gazing upon

a lover's lullaby.

- gypsy george.

Friday, December 4, 2009




a flicker in these Brooklyn leaves
a light breeze of reminder
that you were here, that you are here
teases me
guides me into a dead end.

crash.

the perpetuity of love -
you know, that 'moment' -
plays on repeat on my mind's record player
same song
sung to me a cappella.

the needle skips,
the melody lingers
as a rambling memento

trapped in the verse of an old blues lyric.

- gypsy george.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Upon a Social Commentry of the Current State of Our Situation, i.e. the Unemployed 'Educated' Generation.



I sit at my usual cafe table in Brooklyn. Autumn has arrived - crisp rain, a slight turn of leaves, the fragrance of looming holidays. Although everyone in this room comes from varied backgrounds, one thing connects us - we are unemployed.

Sure. We scrape together money - odd jobs, a phone call to our parents, busking in Central Park. College degree? Check. Laptops? Yup. On these laptops? Resumes and Craigslist job searches.

We're in our 20s-30s trying to fulfill the American Dream promised to us since childhood. However, all we see is a country operated by an older, 'hippie' generation - the one who declared peace and love. The result? Insane debt, AIDS, the Earth's slow death.

Beyond any political matter, this has become a survival issue. Yet, our generation is neglected, struggling to survive in a world built on credit and imaginary numbers.

Sure. The work ethic has changed. However, it is not as simple as tugging off to the local factory. The small-business man has no breathing room in today's 'global economy' (remind me: what do you need for a loan these days?).

Education has morphed into big business as well. Heck, college students worry more about how to pay and how high their debt will be than they do on learning (just a note to the reader: I will be in debt for my Northwestern University education until the year 2025 - at least! - and, oh yea...don't even get me started about establishing 'credit' and maintaining 'assets').

We've been defined as 'slackers,' 'apathetic,' 'dreamy.' Yet, everyone around me is practical, resourceful, knowledgeable, multi-talented, optimistic. We donate more, volunteer, and have the highest creative output the globe has ever seen. The Internet connects us to new cultures, new ideas, our own identity. We have established a community to aide in our suffering.

But, how do we - this generation - survive?

President Obama. We have translated our sense of community to Washington. But, my 'hippie' friends, this is only the beginning. One person cannot change the world, nor does he deserve the weight of the country's problems.

We're in this together.

Things won't change, revolutionize over night. Heck, our generation may never see benefits (I'm looking at you, Social Security). However, we don't care. We want future generations to look at us as a group that made the world better, not worse.

True. The 'hippies' were selfish. Their message was not. We understand the difference. Just one more thing...

Can I have a job?