Louisville Riverfront, October 18, 2014

The occasion was the 100th birthday of the Belle of Louisville

(Click on image for larger view)

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Riverboats_9

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Poems from the Street: Between

Bridges

 

Between

Between
Between young and old,
black and white,
rich and poor —

Between right and left,
gay and straight,
man and woman —

Between Inside and outside,
thought and feeling,
dreaming and waking —

Between now and then,
yesterday and today,
today and tomorrow —

Between them and us,
you and me
ourselves —
We need to build more bridges.

August 19, 2014

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Stories from the Street: Wall Art Louisville

 

Open Door

 

Strawberries

 

After the storm 8

 

Skater Boy

 

24-hour Cafe

 

Sensations

 

Storefronts_11

 

Marks

 

Kentucky Rushmore 2

 

360_Wallart_2

 

Highland Morning

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Poems from the Street: Hit and Run

Red Truck mod

 

Hit and Run

 

Hit and run by the truck

Sometimes known as my life.

Didn’t even see it coming,

didn’t stand a chance.

Karma was smeared

all over the road.

Zeitgeist was totaled.

Spiritual airbags

all deployed.

Angels rushed me to the

emergency room, but

the doctor didn’t

know what to do,

so I went home

to sleep it off.

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Poems from the Street: Listening for a Song

Song

 

Listening for a song, and the quiet

is so hard to find.

The song would seep from my DNA

like an enzyme,

or fall from the stars like dew.

The song would settle like dust

on my bookshelf,

or form like a painful scab

on my skin.

It would be about everything,

and nothing at all,

heroism and trivia,

rage and lust,

entropy and boredom —

Listening for a song.

 

- July 7, 2014 –

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Stories from the Street: Old Man with One Arm

One Armed Man1024

 

An old man with one arm, African–American, sat on the bench in front of Days Espresso. He was bumming cigarettes, but I didn’t have any, having quit in January. He said, "Hello" to me but nothing more. I said, "How are you doing?" but he didn’t answer. He didn’t ask me for anything — a relief – but just his presence made me feel guilty. I wanted to fix his devastated life, but I couldn’t. I tied up my shiny bike; the price of it would feed the old man two months, but that wasn’t going to happen. I went inside and got a coffee. The old man finally walked away. I hope he had somewhere to go.

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Poems from the Street: Ride the Loop

Crank

 

Ride the Loop

Ride the loop.
Feel the burn.
Cranks turn.

From deep places
in the bone
the fire animates

sinew and muscles,
nerve and eye,
to defeat the climb.

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Poems from the Street: Dogfight

Buchertown Greenway 6

Dog fight out on the street –

Two pit bulls, one leashed

And one free,

hardly a fair fight.

 

Sun rakes the street

with searing rays.

It cooks things dry,

Makes dogs want to fight.

 

Fumes from cars

are WMD –

choking, toxic.

My bike makes no fumes.

 

Allant in Cherokee Park

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