Posts tagged: writing
poem poem
po
em poem
I don’t like Vegas, maybe more so the fakeness. Vegas is a true paper town. Not even the trees that are here grow here naturally. Lawns are shipped in on trucks other wise they use gravel. And it’s constantly being redrawn again and again. Like a book in revision what I read today won’t be the book my kids read. And that paperness makes me uneasy. It’s also sobering. We see buildings as semi permanent structures. But here they change year after year, just like people. The me today is not the me of tomorrow. And it makes you think, is it the town that’s paper, or is it us?
Drunk me and sober me. In a war to control the same body, hands and voice. The drunk had my voice but sober remains vigilant and holds the body and hands. My mind is lost but trying to maintain. I move with lost precision. Over exaggerated and slow. I’m here but gone. I’ll see you on the other side
To see. So many individual souls I’ll never meet. So many possibilities. I sit at this bar and ponder my path. Beer in my hand growing warm. Missing the faces of my past.
I catch my fingers tracing the curves of your body to see if they still remember. I catch my my lips tingling like they had just kissed yours to see if they still remember. I catch my eyes finding you in everything to see if they remember your face. My mouth tells old jokes so my ears can try to find your laugh. And my heart still loves hoping to get yours in return.
a pressure, like something stuck in the far corners under your tongue. It’s like something trying to escape, force your mouth wide and wag out. It’s words desperately trying, prying your lips apart, to wag out to the air.
Beautiful sounds forming the words I, love, you
I want to disappear and find out who’d come find me.
I want to disappear and find out who’d know it was all a game.
I want to disappear and find out who’d miss me most.
I want to disappear and find out who loves me.
But most of all,
I want to disappear and find out who I am.
After you’ve watched a movie about love, read a love story, or hear a love song. That felling that while you watch, read, hear those characters fall in love, you are thinking of someone. That feeling that that person of which you are thinking is not the person that you think you should be thinking of. That feeling that it’s all wrong and should be different but feels so perfectly right. That feeling that makes things complicated but also very simple. That feeling that you should say something. And that feeling that quickly passes.
that, when it’s all said and done,
you’ll be around a while.
That hand in hand
we’ll fight the forces of evil together.
That when we’re down and beaten
we’ll rise and overcome.
is full of take out and moving boxes, beer bottles, and paper plates.
Random knick knacks in my feeble attempt to have a collection.
The things in my apartment orbit a computer in the center of the room; my only piece of furniture.
The place full of phases, starts of paths left unlived.
It’s a blank slate waiting for a life to color it in.
