musings & scribbles

Month: October 2012

everything

i sit and stare at a spot i’ve not looked at before,
hoping the clarity returns and i can think of something more to say.
but words find there way around me, not intersecting with my thoughts, no.. no way to say how much i’ve missed you, how many times a day i find myself lost in thought of you and all you meant to me.
so intangible, the rough tongue of reality licks my hand and i try to think of something more to tell you. i try to think of what you don’t already know, and i fall short again.
interruptions, like craters, complicate our terrain and make it harder to run in a straight line to you, but i think we can make it if we go around. — at least that’s how the crisis-ridden got where they are. i don’t want that; i won’t be a better person by forgetting who i was. i can’t live life like a soldier when i’m a poet.

so many thoughts have come when we’re awake and ready, but never bother to write them down. “told you.” yeah, you did, but i’ve never listened and probably never will– it’s much less effort to make a mistake than correct the problem.

October 28, 2012
my shoes stink

i cleaned my room, sat for a bit and stared at all i had left to do.
can’t say much, but when i speak i say it all.
felt alone again today, just because you were gone.
forever, i try to be a better person, but it’s hard to be better when you only see your weaknesses.
i’m a witness to the rebirth of a nation of those, like me, who know nothing more than debt and its collection.
dreams are for believers in tonight, but i only see tomorrow, so i wake up blank and hope to start anew.
rarely, i wake up hopeful for what i’ve seen– i just hope where i think i’m going is where i will have been.
8 lines of myself, written as though i knew everything i said– but, that’s hard when you forget yourself each night, only letting that little nugget in your head remind you of the feelings you should have but don’t understand why.
anger. anger is the pit you can throw everything into, but can’t crawl out of without trying to find yourself someone to latch onto and see the grassline as the sky– a perfect symbol of freedom for someone stuck in perpetual falling, or engulfment.
my shoes stink.

October 28, 2012

TitlesShmitles
saved by the hook

provide me a simple beat,
i’ll try to come up with a clever way to show you how sophisticated the mundane can be.
if you missed my jabs, it’s alright, i’ll let you catch up with the hooks.

October 28, 2012
awkwardly

the world stands awkwardly by
as i try to figure out who i am–
it’s none of their fault, no,
that i can’t find who i am through
the pages i’ve turned, the glossaries
i’ve read or the times i’ve been told
what i can and cannot do.

October 28, 2012

ResistanceToRemembering
you slipped right inside

i opened my heart
without closing my eyes
and you slipped right in
you slipped right inside.

i held out my hand
without turning my head
and you slipped right in
you slipped right inside.

these days we’ve seen
are nothing more than miles
on a car we know won’t breakdown,
so let’s go as far as we can on one tank
and worry about filling up later.

these days we’ve seen
are all i’ve got for memory
in a life we know will end,
so let’s go further than we have before
and worry about getting back later.

you filled my heart
without closing yours
and you fit so well
you slipped right inside.

you took my hand
to say more than breath can stand
and you fit so well
you slipped right inside.

bring me another day and i’ll give you years worth of smiles, kisses, and tender touches worth noting for their sincerity– i’m not a man of much emotion, except when tapping or jotting, but i’ll try to tell you everything when i can see your eyes and you can see mine– sincerity is the secret ingredient and we all have enough, we all have enough to give.

October 28, 2012
give back

quarter of a million miles away
i sit and stare out a new window
created by my insecurities
in the middle of a hallway frequented by those less-than-desirables
/what’s that phrase even mean, anyway?/
not sure i’m seeing everything right
this can’t be– there’s me,
staring back at me
wondering why i’m sitting here,
gutted over and blind to my own obesity
intake/i’ve got to give back
i’ve got to be a blessing through the work i do
and the people i pay forward to

October 28, 2012

StreamOfConsciousness
Baby

Baby, you
Just came home
ANd all I can see
Are your eyes
Calling me in
To be your cover
From a long/hard
Day.

Baby, you
Just woke up to
Me rolling over
To be closer to
You, and all
I can see are your
Lips/your eyes
Saying to me,
“Welcome home,
You’re right where
You need to be.”
And I say,
“Ah.”

October 28, 2012

Corny NoFucksGiven
about writing

I take very seriously the denotation of my writings as scribbles. Yes, technically they are poems, but I practice them as though they are whims (good app, btw) and not to be taken seriously– except in their definition and execution.

I also enjoy, thoroughly and with opened eyes, the passing of these scribbles from one resource to another. Specifically, I take pleasure in taking them from Dropbox+PlainText and tweaking them a bit for WordPress, while trying to recall the originating train of thought. I’ve stated many times that I do not edit, and I deviate from that when publishing, but honor the statement once they are published. Semantics.

October 28, 2012
Mom

held myself up by propping on you for a bit,
but now you’re half buried

mom, i
thank you
for all you’ve done
with only so much as an ask–
or none.

October 28, 2012
to be where we are

You know,
Half the time I spend looking at you
Is looking forward to
All that we will do when we’ve had time.

Though I may not remember
Every moment we’ve spent together,
I’ve used every one to
Build who I am today.
Though I may not recall
All we’ve done or where we’ve been,
I’ve used every moment to
Be where I am today
with you.

October 28, 2012