Daniel Izaaks

Surviving Rock and Roll one day at a time.

[daniel-izaaks]

Annulment

He opens the door. Says the usual greeting more from 12 years developed muscle memory than anything else. Keys strike the foyer table and echo just a bit too long. He stops. Actually surveys the scene around him. The house is dark. It’s never dark at 6 PM and the silence threatens to swallow him, so thick he could drown in it. Removing his shoes, he wades slowly through this new reality. Floorboards cheer him on. Then it hits. A sharp stab at the bottom of his foot, and already he can feel a soft trickle of blood working its way down the patterns of his foot. He lifts it up to see the diamond head of a ring lodged in his sole. Winces. Ten minutes later, he puts on his shoes again and dons his coat. The clack of the lock the only good bye. The ring, the darkness, the silence waiting patiently to see if either of them will ever come back.  

[daniel-izaaks]

A New Orleans Busker

A drowning city for a drowning man.

No place more fitting to rest my head

‘cause if the coming tide doesn’t open your eyes

You’ll be swallowed by a sea as hungry as time.

Both of us move forward with rumbling bellies

our nightly chorus heard all ‘cross the jetty

As I sing over the top of that roaring bassline

trying to ignore the waves creeping up behind

My songs for a cent, charity for high ground

Staring at the coins, I don’t know how long I’ll be around.

[daniel-izaaks]

Imitation

You reach to hold her hand

and bump against her thigh.

Lean in to kiss her

but peck her cheek instead.

Try to dance

and step on her toes.

Try to say “I love you”

but end up choking on the words.

A sloppy imitation.

A forced heart.

A sad farce.

[daniel-izaaks]

City Life

He walked

down filth crusted city streets

and past alleys choked in darkness;

their strange and haunted sounds

teasing the wicked little lives being lived

and wasted in the forgotten corners

of dangerous neighborhoods.  

[daniel-izaaks]

Reunion

My fingers have gone numb.

I haven’t figured out 

if it’s because of the wind chill

or how you pulled you hand back

when I reached to hold it.

[daniel-izaaks]

Stubborn

He left the bar

Neon fading into an indistinct color mosaic behind him,

hungry darkness growing larger as he lumbers towards

that shitty little 2001 Mustang he salvaged from a junk yard.

Swore up and down he’d fix it up right. 

Give “that beautiful bitch” the love and care it deserved.

Kelly Blue Book says the value has dropped since he bought it.

Selling it would admit defeat.

Fuck that.

Grabs his keys 

adds a few more scratches to the paint job

fumbling to get into the driver seat

and plant his ass on cracked and freezing winter leather.

Closes his eyes, and tries grab the darkness and stop it from spinning

He’s nauseous. Opens them and the road center line leading out into the

dark, ominous country keeps shifting. “I shouldn’t drive” he thinks.

But calling a cab would admit defeat

Fuck that...  

[daniel-izaaks]

I Love You?

Lie there

on the ground

broken

by three words

and the silence

that took their place.

[daniel-izaaks]

Indiana

He walked out of his home

Stared up at the infinite expanse

of the Midwest sky

and dreamed;

anything

beyond the meeting point

of dirt and blue

must be better than this.

[daniel-izaaks]

Ecstacy

God danced around us

in the frail fractals of light

weaving in and out

of the fog and quivering

bass lines

[daniel-izaaks]

Tomorrow

When I woke up

all that was left

were crumpled sheets

and a single cigarette 

in the ashtray

stained with her lipstick.

[daniel-izaaks]

November

The sky finally gave up.

Donned its bleak funeral grey

too poor or tired for black,

stopped smiling with the sun

and sat back in its winter rocking chair;

body growing steadily colder.

Pulse slowing to a December pace

awaiting a quiet, snowy, death. 

[daniel-izaaks]

Rock

The room is empty.

Footfalls echo across hardwood

and reach behind the bar

to decide what flavor

tonight’s sweat will be.

He grips a microphone stand.

Inhales the stale stench of beer

and bodies from last night that still

hide in the small crevices and corners;

the places only music could reach.

The places he and all the rest of us 

half deaf bastards

call home.

[daniel-izaaks]

We all need something warm to hold

To get us through the winter.

Most prefer a body, a love,

A heartbeat pounding

Its steady comforting rhythm

Pressed closely to your own.

See if they can sync up.

See if this shared heat is enough

To bring back spring.

I hold tea.

Boiling water in an open container

Held by shivering hands

That will splash;

A mouth that will embrace

Too soon and scald.

And scar.

But I prefer tea.

I think because

it burns less.

[daniel-izaaks]

Rings

You estimate how old a tree is

by looking at the rings in its trunk.

In the same way

you can estimate how long

it has been since a dream died

by measuring the dark rings

under someone’s eyes.

By best estimation

he had been to that funeral

years ago.

[daniel-izaaks]

Lover

She sleeps peacefully.

Lazy blankets revealing bare shoulders,

darkness making no attempt to kiss or spoil

perfectly porcelain skin.

 Somewhere a siren

sings its tragedy to an

insomniac audience.

 She doesn’t notice.

Just shifts in her sleep,

brushing her hips against me

and settles back into the hypnotic rhythm

of dreaming breath.

[bnmxfld]

David Foster Wallace / Infinite Jest

[daniel-izaaks]

Keep Up

Slide your back against the concrete

And close your eyes.

Hold on for dear life

As the darkness spins;

Feel the rotation of the world beneath your feet.

It’s all moving

So fast.

You can hear the bass

Of the club behind you

Distorting as you hurtle through

Black emptiness at unimaginable speeds.

It picks up pace.

You slide a little lower

Until you’re seated on wet concrete,

Moisture slowly wicking into your

Distressed weekend jeans.

Someone taps you.

Says, “Hey.

You okay?”

You never open your eyes.

You never see whose voice broke through the darkness

But you respond,

“Just trying to keep up.”