Home » Posts tagged 'people' (Page 33)
My friend is back
that lone bird
this morning
he’s brought a friend
and wouldn’t you know
here I am
barely awake
and jealous of him
though not to spoil their party
I ear my headphones
stretch and bend
It’s got to be 60 degrees
and while I run
I think of them
happy among the trees.
I flipped myself
like a coin
then flipped again
just to see
if heads or tails
would land twice
like a pollinating
honey bee
I figured if I had a
50/50 chance
I might as well
take a look see
and feel what lie on the
other side of dying
rather than spend another
long day trying
to convince myself
I’d be better off another house wife
crying
into coffee
or screaming into laundry
relying on the offerings
of innocent smiles
casting unintentional
shadows on my coffin
of denial
marred by my own
self loathing
which like a
preacher’s devotion
I took such pride
in approaching
solitude
like a potion
endlessly encroaching
on my own
well being
I admit I was broken
so I flipped that coin
heads
then I flipped myself
tails
and discovered
this notion
that
heads or tails I was going
Going
Gone
with the wind
not a rolling stone
or a tumbleweed
not a nickel or dime
not a honey bee
no I was a wreck
cast far out to sea
but that’s just the thing
it took all that to see
moving West wouldn’t be
all that easy for me
no nothing is lucky
nothing is free
except the glow of bonfire
in the dead of tree
where dancing shadows
take form and
I’m just
understandably me — hell
it’s already 1:03
and I’m hungry
but
I’ve got no food to eat —
so call it in the air
no
on second thought
I’ll just let this one be.
There’s a lone bird
chirping somewhere unseen
and a cold gentle wind
scratching at my knee,
it’s the crack of dawn
sunrise
another day I’ll see,
and though my throat hurts
my ankle weak
I too sing a little tune
with that lone bird
just to let him know
I hear him.
I can say I failed
Or
I can say it worked out
just as it was supposed to
And
her and I can move forward
knowing our paths weren’t meant to cross
Again
the past is all we had in common
and well, the past must be laid to rest.
Sleep well my friend
until then
I wish I hadn’t been so mean
But
I wish you only the best,
even though I’m sure that’s hard to believe.
constantly tinkering
toying in turn
churning and yearning
and combing inward
what does it mean
I haven’t the urge
just sort of liked
this rhythm of words
A large portion of
poetry is spam.
But I don’t eat that stuff,
at least not until I get to see Hawaii
then who knows?
I hear, fried with an egg, it’s good.
When in Rome, you know;
when in Rome.
Nobody
gets out of there own way
they just get in the way of others
watch, listen, blend in
and you’ll see.
Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde
unleashed by use of potion
as swift as light
as evenings cloak
a wrecking ball in motion
of skin and flesh
a heart so dark
devoid of all emotion
it’s midnights grip
from which I hide
and seek to cure
this strange compulsion
like many men
before my time
who tried to rid the notion
of good and evil
within one mind
a harlequin commotion
where in the end
come banging fists
as silent screams approach him
to slay the monster
from within
the cure his own expulsion
and in plain clothes
lay to rest
Hyde in Jekyll’s clothing.
If you take comfort
in the fact that
each day
each person you encounter
is their own personal
nervous wreck
than I think this whole life thing
full of strange responsibility
and odd accountability
just gets a little easier,
a little more bearable.
I made Pico de Gallo
the other day
and it needed salt
so I added salt
then put it away.
Then I took a nap
and woke up
more tired
than I’d been before I’d shut my eyes.
Then I wrote a song
drank some beer and
called it a day.
Nobody had to know I existed
and I was fine with that.
The Pico still needs work though,
I’ll send word.
Words Of An Average White Male 