Saturday, April 30, 2011

April 2011 Poetry - Week 4

Warning: you might not want to read the first one. It has profanity and certain things that you probably don't want to see. So please, do not feel inclined to read it by any means. 

Extended Warning: Well, pretty much all the poems in this post are shady. I pretty much threw out censorship this week and wrote exactly what I was feeling and what came to mind. So, read with caution.

Of Two And Parallel - April 25th 

By my hand. By my own fucking hand.
Be calm, it will pass. Keep breathing, it will pass.
I know I'm capable of it. The possibility.
My love is too great. My love is too great.
Nobody is watching me.
They have me reassured.
But if it were to happen,
by accident, by chance,
how much greater their love would be.
And how selfish that would make me.
The hell it would! I have the right.
I hold nothing that's out of God's sight.

 My god, I'm thirsty.
Water. I need water.
Where the hell is the water?
Find a pen, right it down. Find a pen, get it out.
Can't have anything else. Not skinny enough.
Don't think, just write. Write it down. Get it out.


How are you?

 I'm too close.
I'm alright.
And I smile like a fucking retard.
I'm just tired.
I can't stop staring; I'm in love.
Why do you have to put me here?
I can't get the damn words off my tongue.
I'm not listening anymore. Not listening.
There's so much to say,
but I can't. I can't.
If you knew, I'd lose you.
If you knew, you'd see that I'm a mess.
And you're the only thing keeping me alive.
I couldn't stand to lose someone else.
I don't want to be here anymore.
That's what he said, and I was there,
but no one would be there for me.
It's a lie. That's a lie. And you know the truth.
I'm never the one that's wanted.
I'm never good enough.
I'll never be enough.
I'm not who I should be.
And those words won't be enough,
his words are meant for someone else.
Those weren't weren't meant for me.
That's okay, that's okay.
I have nothing left to live for.
I can't put my trust in people.
But it's all my fault. I did this.
I'm the one who went too far.
I've found a cut, now I see blood,
it spills onto my hands. This was me.
But god, I'm a saint. I swear I'm a saint.
My Lord, I'm a sinner.
Help me.
Help me.


Shadows - April 26th
I had a word with my eye today,
and him and I were wondering
how you define a shadow?
You know, just like the clouds
that hang in the sky, dangle there,
and throw back from their bellies
streaks of darkness across our land.
We were just wondering, that is all.


Graduation - April 27th
They call today the best of our lives.
But some with empty stomachs, others now full,
and friendship dissolved into money,
what the hell are they talking about?

Those bonds are slowly, slowly loosening.
This is what we are becoming: hollow.
There is emptiness eating us from the inside out,
like an internal black hole.

And you, my friend, truly
are the salt of the earth. Now I mean that.
Here’s to you, and you, and you,
I raise my glass to your overwhelming accomplishments.
Good job, great job,
and I guess you’ll be moving on to better things now.

Oh God, I do hope so,
because this just isn’t fair.
This year has killed us all.


Untitled - April 27th
You have seen me here before,
But one objection might I say:
I may see you as something more
If we continue like this every day.


Allies - April 27th
We overcome, we fight, we fare
well in the face of thought.
Think on this, clever one:
This battle should not be fought.
You would not win, that’s not enough—
complexity; infinity—
but we can define it along the way
and teach a little immortality.
It’s tricky business, I believe
and that makes perfect sense.
Like my soul, and I’ll agree
we’re all foes and fighters, hence

The am’s and are’s and atmosphere
of love not loved and peace not near.
The rage and rustle of followers—
words shot at you; you borrow hers.
You both need work to walk the way
towards wrong and right and what to say.


Allowed to Write – April 29th
I’ve got two minutes to write this down,
and what to say with that?
With all this stillness of my thoughts,
There’s much to take a look at.

I know you haven’t got the time
For me to ramble on, and on,
But I have this moment, this for me,
For soon I shall be gone.

I hope you know the things you told
me would happen—they did.
My own mind can’t fix upon
thoughts it must forbid.

For there are many, there are some
that hide within the sighs,
but those you hear, they can’t escape
without words you recognize.

Not words, really, but mumblings
of a heart hurt and sorrowful,
but with your kindness and gentle hand,
This aching might be temporal.

I wasn’t allowed to write last night
Because my friend said I must think.
So true, but stubborn must I be;
my thoughts and actions aren’t in sync.

But I promise, I promise I’ll improve
and face my future once again.
I’ll find a way to face the day
and be content in my own skin.

I fear I’ve been here far too long.
Now, I must depart.
I’m glad you shared this moment with me
and my not-quite work of art.


Horizon – April 29th
Where we grew when we knew not,
like friendship sold and family bought,
has stemmed from six and the neighborly.
Now, this was not done properly—
though if I fail, oh if one dies—
the inner soul of the other cries.
But hey, we’ve got this, and we know
that being normal is just for show.
And here we stand in history,
who we’ll be is a mystery,
but things never seem to go as planned
when I try to sign with my own hand.
We will come back to this place,
and though we may have a new face,
we'll always be welcomed and shown love
by those still here and One above.


Silent Ones - April 30th
I'm not fighting to be real,
or cool, or in his eyes.
I'm saying that I worked today
and discovered a surprise.

And there I am, just about
where you think you are.
We may seem close, side by side,
but our paths are pretty far.

He says these things, he thinks out loud,
for those who know their ears.
And if they remain the silent ones,
they amount to his worst fears.

If one more person calls me great,
I might just spit on them,
because instead they need to look
at those voices they condemn.

But this, a contest of fortunate
beings and cash and cost,
and she, my friend, will not be there;
in the end, she will be lost.

I know that's torturous and difficult
and you cannot bear the thought;
for weeks or months it sinks on you
and forsakes all that you've fought

to be the worst time of your life
for that future is left on hope,
and really, what good can come from faith
when dangling from a tightrope?

1 comment:

  1. my heart goes out to you when I read this.