Poetry: Selections From Douglas G. Cala

Quicksand

Sinking, submerging in residual

darkness Severed from atmospheric light

These bones carry great plight.

Plot thickens, harsh realities not always

promising renewed tomorrows

Another breath, another sigh,

recoiled release

Restless toes curl from too many sleepless nights

Weaving in and out of wakefulness, your face

blanketing my dreams even though

you no longer darken my door

Hedged bets against a losing hand,

Cherished every part of you, every

interaction, no misstep Yet, despite

best intentions grandfather’s clock

gong whooshes me out of my love stupor

Face-planting on a bed of broken reality

Deferred dreams deafening, atom splits,

separates from nucleus Now, it exists as

an organism without a guidance system

Momentous occasions grind to a halt,

Melody from your well-formed lips

cease their serenade Wounds from prior

battles produce scar tissue Scalpel that was

once used to suture now cuts through

emaciated flesh that breaks with

ease of slight penetration

Quicksand circumvents,

Creating its own reflective,

crystal dungeon

Waged Within

I scoured the darkness of the predawn night.

Where critters and creatures’ mate and multiply.

Predators are perched on rooftops, zeroing in on potential targets.

They laugh, they cry, they scurry about in droves unified in a singular mission of survival.

The beginnings of this journey were full of unprecedented pratfalls like taking reluctant steps on

hot coals.

Time slips away from all of them.

They say that humankind revels in folly.

Hope dangles in the balance.

A bargaining chip for a life lived solely in the shadows.

Let us embrace one another for the common good.

Put down those brass knuckles.

For some wars are waged within.

In the Heat of the City

(Published in Soup Can Magazine (July 2023))

Dizzying delirium,

Decorated decadence

diminishes depth,

Trespass on the tight walk,

Teetering on the brink,

the rope extends

Treble in the baritone

Test of patience, cognizance,

relation to relation

People pile into train cars,

eye contact negligible

Technology tightening its noose

Choking, choking, choking, cough, cough, crash!

Coffee spills on freshly pampered shoes

Polished to perceived perfection

The press shirts adorning businessman belie status

Crystal-coated watches flash refracting light

Bouncing off eyeglasses scanning digital pages

Digging deep, troves of information infuse brains

Knowledge nervously gained, pressure cooker of time

Few age like fine wines,

salt and pepper follicles

can indicate distinguish,

Death dawns dutifully,

dynamite match set

Trailblazers

Forge ahead in the fire of your wisdom,

For one can be a part of the greater kingdom,

Iambic pentameter taught in the classroom

Shakespearean soliloquy recited in the bedroom

Internal battles fought, waged on turfs without

Nerf guns. Instead, slingin’ puns, puns and more puns,

wordplay exacting, reactive Chemistry set explodes,

beakers and test tubes excite experimentation

Students, maestros of their own destinies,

a no to standardization, a yes to aug-mentation

A yes to the wildfire of ideas, a no to the digital noose

that constricts its hold on an unsuspecting populace,

necklaces glimmer in the starlight

First sign of life we see tonight,

distant planets in the moon glow,

a magnificent spectacle, examine

with your monocle, science

not put on a pedestal

The holy holy chants

of Ginsberg, the talk

of hipsterdom as normalcy,

a movement away from truancy,

kids not locked up but plugged in,

their minds a waste-land of the residue

of Twitter feeds, A yes to synergy and

synchronization, a yes to dovetailing interest,

bisecting the heart, its atria pump, pump like

the dancers who sway in interpretative

strut for King Tut would be resurrected

Beat poets yell from rooftops, Rastafarians

with beat boxes cordon off sidewalks producing

palpable parties that hum with electricity, elasticity,

step in with geometry Guests ping pong into one

another forging connection, scent detection, aromas

in the air from baked pies drown out the smell of

rain slicked city streets. Thumbs up go the critics,

the groundswell, thumbs down goes the audience,

ideology asymmetrical, some ideas detestable,

open hearts desirable. A yes to synthesis of thought,

Prometheus took the fire but had his regrets, making

bets against the Gods and losing, Zeus angry, exacting

his will on the denizens of Earth, a dearth of mirth

An article goes to press during recess and a ship

capsizes nearby, one action bleeding into another,

don’t put a muzzle over conviction, diction always

rules the day, a fiction to dream otherwise

Away with the manifestation of strife

Forge ahead in the wildfires of your life

Clash of Titans

(Published in New Generation Beats 2023 (National Beat Poetry Foundation))

Berserker rage blooms,

Like gladiators in a tireless

sphere fight swinging archaic

but powerful weaponry

Berserker rage blooms,

Battle scars worn

by everyone even

if unseen

Testaments of survival,

sure-headed decisions made

A person - everywhere and nowhere

simultaneously Mighty men fall every day,

Susceptible to poisonous logic that’s damning

civilization. Warbirds, tactical drones, not the answer

Laying waste to innocence, civilian casualty

on the uptick For pointedly precise

power plays pack punches

Fates decided with the immediacy of a swift gavel

Lock him away! Lock him away!

Strait jackets aren’t enough to contain turbulent minds

As one-sided adjudicators think mental illness a myth

Fare-beaters jump turnstiles with reckless abandon,

Inflation prices suffocate the impoverished

Derelicts misplaced in a broken system

Citywide mayors’ crackdown on homelessness

For berserker rage still blooms

In communities

In nations as kids

witness their parents

flogged for indiscretions

Strife that predates their lifetimes

with trivialities enmeshing

Therapy sessions on mute

Poet as prophet

Poet as philosopher

Poet as ideological disperser

Poet as pedagogue

Poets as resistance fighters

Poets as activists

Poets as revolutionaries

Poets as being held responsible for new ages

The solidification of axioms

Bandages come off

for there are now

no wounds

Douglas G. Cala is a spoken word performance poet, editor, essayist, and multimedia/IT specialist from New York City. He has been published in a wide range of anthologies and print journals both nationally and internationally. When not writing and reciting, Douglas works full time for NYC Public Schools’ Division of Instructional Information Technology as an IT Support Specialist. You may learn more about him and his work by visiting his Poets & Writers directory profile.