The Day After

Composed 3/25/18

Just because I’m not easy
Doesn’t mean I’m untouchable
You see
I thought confidence was sexy
A set of standards and consistent personality
Was a trait to be admired and sought for eagerly
But you won’t even try
Preferring the company of convenience
Open palms and weak, trembling knees
Any batting eyes and sly smiles that invite
Even moments after acquaintance

Perhaps it’s fruitless to preach patience
But its virtue is both yours and mine
I won’t warm your bed tonight
Any other could be your flickering candlelight
All I can promise is a lifetime of what is real, enduring
Soft good mornings and
Emotion, eloquence,
Warm fires emitting radiance
Each night a good night kiss and
Love drunk words that feel like this
And most of all confidence
In loyalty, in one and only
A unique union strong in humor and partnership
But it’s time wrapped up in commitment
It’s inefficient
It’s different

I’m homegrown
A relationship planted, nurtured, watered, and sown
Don’t misunderstand me
You are free to your microwavable convenience store romance
But perhaps the work is worth the chance
For true flavor and craftsmanship
Even if the meal ends
Your time will not be wasted
A need inside of you fully sated

Tonight is not my night
And I doubt it will ever be
But tonight I won’t let it bother me
You look and all you see are
The words used describe me
Smart, kind, spiritual
Apparently unapproachable
And you?
Missing out

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Hiatus

Composed 3/18/18

Headaches
Staying up late
Persistent vegetative states
Pay the bills
Netflix and chill
Eat fast food for every meal
Watch the news
Sing the blues
Familiar drives all done in cruise
Do some chores
Tests to study for
But mostly just wanting more

The oft repeated, historical find
That life takes up all your time
And thus leaves the martyrs three —
Spirituality, beauty, creativity

Reflections on a New Year’s Party

Composed 1/8/18
Description: Going over some old poem scraps and polishing them up. So here we have a somewhat belated reflection on my real-life New Year’s Eve. However, I think this musing could be applied to nearly any moment, any time you looked around and marveled, whether that moment was happy or bizarre, and said “How did I end up here?”

A new year begun with
old friends, long histories
acquaintanced and long distanced but
brought together, connected, and
intertwined by
happenstance and serendipity
begging the question
How did we get here?
And will we be here next year?

Witchcraft

Composed 11/19/17
Description: Not so subtly inspired by my last post.

Don’t fear me
I have a disarming smile
And a degree in reflective listening
I was raised and trained with a customer service philosophy
I will not raise my voice
I will not contradict
So don’t fear me
Fear my pen
If you are rude or condescending
If you cloak yourself in arrogance and embrace ignorance
You will be a victim of the written word
Woven into rhyme, metaphor, and simile in my poetry
Masking your identity and yet
When in some happenstance you read
These rhymes and vague-told stories
I hope it makes you feel somehow, distinctly
Uneasy

Diet

Composed 11/16/17

the curbing of appetites
to be lean of body and pure of mind
the struggle
of all mankind
we’re cursed
from the moment of birth
to crave what kills and
condemn what cultivates
growth
is still the goal
to teach not manufacture
a herd of perfect automatons
with no ability to become more than an efficient list checker
instead we’re a bowl of swirling emotions
given the capacity to make choices
the potential to become more than
a sack of replacement parts
every moment, every choice defines
priorities and meanings of life
and yet still I justify
poison for pleasure
and pleasure for shortened life
hammering the temple ruins
despite the warning signs

The Curse of Old Loves

Composed 9/10/17
Description: Inspired by life and today’s Daily Prompt: Peculiar. A poem about moving on.

Peculiar
How we cling to the familiar
Even when we know it’s no good
He returns to old comfort
Though he knows it has failed
Venom seeping through the fingertips and lips
And clogging all paths to the heart
But he is welcomed
With a smile and soft eyes
With warmth
With kind words and old love songs
With good intentions, perhaps
But it’s a curse –
He’s poisoned but pleased
Pleasure brings him back and habits form
The longer it endures the more he is addicted and
The more harmed
The more he is unable to break free but
He can anticipate and follow routine
It’s easy
It’s hard to change, move on
Try something new
But if you keep returning to the past
You miss out on what’s in front of you
And the future never comes

Prayer

Composed 8/27/17
Description: n/a

Oh Lord
Please save me from a narrow mind and a limited perspective
As You are the only one who can truly know another
I am unable to appreciate the intricacies of any other’s situation
I am only permitted to live inside this one skin
To view the world through this set of eyes and process stimuli
Though this one, routine tilled mind
I cannot feel the sensations of another’s heart
Feel the burn of pain or passion in their veins
So save me from saying
I understand flippantly in conversation
For I know I never could
Compel me to remember…
To always listen before I speak
To earnestly seek to understand
And to use my own voice only in support of others
To give credit where credit is due
And to respect the boundaries that have been placed
In response to oppression and stripped identity
And I pray not only for me
But for all like me
As we are all tempted and blinded by demons and
Seductive voices that whisper of the convenience of superiority, ignorance, and hate
I pray
That we will all remember Your teachings
And be open to receiving Your perspective so
Your love and acceptance may permeate all of our interactions
And most importantly I pray that all who find these words
Will see them as a plea made in sincerity
That they
Will confront themselves as they ponder this request
As these words are not just pretty things
But a reminder that Your word challenges them and challenges me.

Fuzzy-headed

Composed 8/24/17
Description: n/a

Life is a sandstorm that
has settled on my mind
Dust rests, heavy and thick, it
filters into cracks and spaces
where magic used to spawn and spread like a spring
But my head just feels so heavy now
it’s hard to shake
loose, to let
words lift like a paintbrush on canvas, instead
everything is gray

But soon I must retaliate or this
slow, progressive dementia will
steal my joy away
I must break free and
speak
brush my hand against the dust
so beauty might be seen