Month: February 2014

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Today Was Today.

The coin flipped
Landed despair side up
Despondency flows naturally
Head is fogged in
Can’t remember what I did
or didn’t do
minutes or seconds ago

Bad days
Where despising
who you are
comes so easily
Where you really wonder
if she cares about you
Despite all that was said and done
Because of all that was said and done
So busy while she is away
Struggling with her home again

Sheltering others from how I feel
Withdawing from contact
Whilst feeling lonely at the same time

Get a grip
Pocket that coin
Make your own decisions
Don’t let emotional bullies drag you down

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Boso 1 and 2.

This is the third poem written on Sunday morning during a burst of inspiration. It was a different combination of techniques for me, but mostly focused around a suggestion I read recently from Leanne at Ignored.

I wrote what I felt from listening to this music (which is a current emotionally meaningful piece to me). It is two tracks Boso 1 and Boso 2 from the album Insofar by Sundog and contains sounds solely from playing a tampered acoustic piano (Boso 1) & rhodes electric piano (Boso 2). Depending on your interpretation it could be described in style as classical, minimalist, chamber, or electronica.

One of the composer/performer duo is Arthur Jeffes who is the blood heir to the Penguin Cafe name, a group who were performing since the 70’s and who I was privileged to hear perform in my hometown in the late 80’s.

There are 27 lines spaced over the nearly 8 minutes of music. For full effect, have a listen and read through this poem accordingly.
I really need to create a video with the words popping up at appropriate times then fading and shrinking away. Anyone out there have those skills?

===

running
racing
behind me
all around me it changes
I saw you
the smile
why did he choose that?
let’s go
ready?
aha!
no one and everyone
please
I can’t promise anything

it changed
I don’t like this, I like this
where were we?
I want to go home –
I don’t know where that is
why did you do that?
you are beautiful and hurtful all at once
never
build it
burrow into the ground
clear vision
sparkles
can I touch you?
soaring out of the sky

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Sometime. (reblog)

I know you haven’t spoken to me in a while
and that’s because you’ve got things happening
and you just don’t feel that great sometimes
and when you remember me it’s not a good time to talk
I don’t mind.
I remember you
And if we could catch up I would drop everything
just to spend a little time with you
a reminder –
that even for the briefest of moments
life is bearable
And I would pray
that is enough for now
.

This is the second of three poems written on Sunday morning during a burst of inspiration. First published by me at:
Sometime.

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Friend-ly Thoughts.

I know you haven’t spoken to me in a while
and that’s because you’ve got things happening
and you just don’t feel that great sometimes
and when you remember me it’s not a good time to talk
I don’t mind.
I remember you
And if we could catch up I would drop everything
just to spend a little time with you
a reminder –
that even for the briefest of moments
life is bearable
And I would pray
that is enough for now
.

===
[the second of three poems written Sunday morning, after a few days dry spell and sudden inspiration was captured. I was unsure about this poem’s completeness, so I left it lying around on FB and the consensus was positive. I’m uncertain as to the reason for my hesitancy. Perhaps it was just that once again I have written something new style-wise and it takes time for me to become comfortable with it. What do you think?]

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Expanding On Random Sunday Morning Thoughts.

I want to beep you:
outside, in the sunshine,
and the rain too.

I thought I’d luv you forever:
when did that stop, disappear,
when did “we” die?

Why does it have to be this way:?
pain, hurt, misunderstanding,
ill-communication.

I’m so tired:
that the walls are collapsing,
and it’s all flooding back in.

Can I sleep for a week with you by my side:?
no expectations, no interruptions,
just the company of lovers.

Your beeps are interrupting me:
when I’m trying to get this all out,
have to shut my eyes and put my head on the mat to refocus.

I want to escape from me:
need a break from all I’ve created,
need to rediscover who I am, somehow.

When did I get lost:?
at some point in the first few years of my life,
I made a decision, and my life has forever been on the wrong path.

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In Memory of Saint Valentine.

Take the time today
Think of those you love
And who love you
Wherever they are

And may you feel
Love in abundance
from those you are closest to
.

===

[If there is none close, or those you feel love for can’t be with you for whatever reason, focus the love on yourself. Be thankful for and celebrate who you are right now and let love shine on your positives.]

6 Comments Posted on Poetry

Empty Shoes.

Walk in your shoes
Get to know you
They are a size big or two
Always bigger than me were you

I look up to you
Even more, now that I miss you
The stories I hear now
Tell me so much I never knew

I always knew the similarities
Matching pieces of personality
Some used to upset me
But now I hold them dearly

What you did that upset many
I understand I can see your view
Don’t agree with it
But in so much your heart was true
And this is what I remember
Of you
.

===

[This was inspired by looking through my father’s shoe collection – many old, some unworn, mostly practical work boots – more reminiscing and seeing photographs of a happy young man. (Photograph by me of a couple of the items). The poem’s structure is a bit rough, but I can’t change it without, you know, changing it. And it’s like my memories of him, good or bad, they are all I have now, so I will learn to love them all.]

20140213-234109.jpg

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About To Pop.

Sexual frustration
Builds so quickly
And
Tired nights and busy days
Inhibit its release
But never its potency.
Wanting you keeps me alive
Feeling rejected kills me.
Trying to communicate this
drains my energy

.
My response to: “The urge of the body; is the process of the mind – constantly evolving.” ChattyOwl.
Check out her poetry as well.

14 Comments Posted on Poetry

Time’s Up.

An end of pain, end to struggle
Got so worn down by all the hurt
There’s nothing left in me to feel anymore
I looked but all positives desert

It’s all over, for now
There’s nothing else I can do
Goodbye, see you next time ’round (maybe)
I’m through

Gotta leave, gotta go
Just gotta get out of here
Don’t know what comes afterwards
But I don’t feel any fear