Category: poem

Overcast.

I used to like this
leaning against the door
listening to the motor sea
thinking not thinking
of a world with out of me.

It’s like hearing a prayer
out in every directions,
looking for answers.
So alive, so vibrant,
mixed with the symphonies.

The roars of the whirlpool
deafening yet unaware.
The fallen leaves are still.
The rain comes and goes.
Can’t I just be one of those?

Crazy meme.

What sustains me
is a shout in the dark
I’m afraid of that dark
like I’m disappearing
filling the space with
What?
what are we but vacuum cubes
The muffling sounds from a distance.
But Which direction?
If I cry enough
will they listen
the waxing and waning
still stir something
That something is pain.
This yearning,
Its always been too painful
to live.
No one finishes their story – (why?)
A messy beginning
an exhausting middle
a neuron endingWHAT’S THE QUESTION?

Heart-gate.

I put my heart on hold
long ago.
I don’t remember the signs,
it’s a foreign land.
People don’t understand
when they see me emotionless,
how hard it is to pretend
to be one of them.

When I don’t know
where I am,
I hum a little song
to myself,
never deal with anything
too personal,
now that I can get away
from my folks.

The clock I’d stopped
does grind
so loudly
in my mind.
Need to let the cold
seeping in,
for the chance
to make some friends.

Still so afraid
of losing the ones I love,
or that I can’t
help them enough.
Can I take it now?
My disappointment
with myself?

I put my heart on hold.
My place is vacant
and my eyes are cold.
I feel safely mechanical.
But I can’t run free,
without my heart whole.

Was it something I had done?
Or part of me I have to accept?
Who do I go for advice?
When nobody knows who I am?

I have to unpause.
Have to face the spot.
Name the things I can’t change
and bring them back home.

Stupid.

I’ve learned it’s very stupid to feel
and very very stupid to love.
When you are not strong
and easily led astray
and you don’t recognize the path.
Monsters, tricksters, cowards abound.
Before you know it
the wrong things are learned,
you don’t know who you are.

But I need to feel, we all need to love.
Let’s all be stupid now.
1, 2, 3, breath. 1, 2, 3, breath.
I call on stupid stupid love.

Visitor.

It came to visit last night,
as I laid sleeping in my bed.
Did you meant to wake me up?
Were you watching as I slept?
First came the unease as I felt the chill,
then came the noises all about the room.
Whatever have you touched?
Or were you also startled?
Then the images came,
as I huddled well-aware.
Something’s poking out
maybe trying to tell a tale.
Long white finger’s poking.
Then an attempt at an embrace?
Not just gonna take it, I thought,
so I crossed you out.
Then a warmth spread,
maybe I passed a test.
A peace within as I fell asleep,
and there were no more dreams.

Pest.

I was raised to respect
certain animals & insects:
spiders, anoles, lady bugs
with 7 dots that eat flies.

I always check before I kill
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, you can go.
Because we have a common foe
or maybe you’re just kinda cute.

I was taught to take notes,
to discern the friends from the foes.
But I don’t always keep the door closed
and I don’t know which one to keep close.

The biggest pest in the household
don’t know up from down, right from wrong.
I might as well be a corpse
to attract the flies for y’all to eat.

Nothing but change.

You told me not to change
and I said yes.
Sorry I lied,
I lost the thing I once had.

It’s like a heart-attack,
sirens, flashes, warning signs.
I guess my brain can’t decide,
to win or just to survive.

So it’s the middle road,
can’t see the sun,
can’t rest at night.
Sorry for the people I disappointed.

Sorry for the ones I still blame,
especially myself & I.
Want to be alive,
just to keep myself alive.

It’s a battle with no win or lose,
it’s the outside that’s inside.
I keep hearing people say “rise, rise”!
Have they learned their lessons? Not I.

I guess I was sorta insane.
The spark you saw
was all part of a dream.
I was there but somewhere also.

Do you know what I mean?

I’m sorry I’ve changed.
I’m sorry I’m the same.
You said it long ago,
but did you really know

what any of this means?

All I have.

I have someone else’s lips.
I have someone else’s nose.

I have my mother’s forehead
and her cheekbones.
I have my father’s eyes,
not my mother’s that look like a cat’s.
Looking into his is like looking into mine own.
While hers are like stranger’s,
but still pretty to look at.

I have my father’s torso.
I have my mother’s bosoms.
I have athlete’s foot like she does
and the full head of hair too
that’s not turning grey
like when she’s my age.
Must be my father’s gift.

I have god knows whose’ eyebrows.
I may have grandfather’s selfishness.
I may have a touch of grandmother’s madness.
I suffered mother’s iron will.
I marveled & pitied father’s intellect.
I’m quick to withdrawn when being beaten back.
I yearn like them for something they never had.

Are we a tree? More like a twig.
You said my name’s not gonna be on that list.
So then why should I give a shit?
All them pretty things to look at,
just as well cause they’re made to be wiped.
If this’s a game I will hold my line.
I have my mother’s & my father’s tears.

I don’t want to pass it on if that’s all I have.