Poems · writing

Sleepy Ducks

I always wonder what smaller animals think about.

Watching this little creature breathe,

Avian lungs contracting in and out.

It’s a calming procedure, and a good reminder that no one is free from this mechanical act

Keeping an eye on these small beings

Downy heads tucked beneath protective wings

It’s hard to be worried about the other things,

Though I know soon I must go back.

Poems · writing

Write My Poetry

Fear of failure I’m close to giving up

Untethered froM reality

The vowels they compound and we—

I’m lost when I’ve fallen into you

Authenticity,

Your electricity

You enrage and enlighten me

Frightening prospects and the sound of your name

Risking a cliche I’m too afraid to say it casts lightning

All the same.

Drunk on my inhibitions,

These admissions,

They’d never let me in.

My ticket was stamped for yesterday and there is no way to see the show, now.

Did I mention feeling exposed? Yes.

Surviving on instinct,

I’m sure I’m meant to act this way, why not?

Who can ever tell, anyway, between what’s real,

What is blocked.

Configurations.

I’ll wait for the circus to come to town

Write to me then, when the madness comes back around


I’ve been a little disjointed lately, and I’m sure this reflects that. Doesn’t that suck? When you feel like you’ve got a grip on yourself and your brain goes “hahahaha nope. You’ve gotta do it again.”? Oh well. It’s fiiiine! It’s fine. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

Poems · writing

End of Semester

Monday is lazy

Tuesday is coffee

Wednesday is long

Thursday is happy

Friday is boring

Saturday is early

And Sunday is denial of it all happening over and over again into eternity.


That last line is more than slightly dramatic. I’m just really feeling the school schedule cycle and I’d like some control back. Or at least a car so that my radius of escape can be more than a few miles

Poems · writing

Do You Find It Alright?

How did I get here

How do I know

Which way is up

When will I…

I’m temperate I’ll have you believe.

You hack at me, start it off

One two three four

Who is knocking at my door

Temporal, always, yes.

Buried deep in my chest

Gently tugging,

Whispering

“Have we made it yet?”

Don’t do that here.

Five six seven eight

Resistance, entreat me. They can’t be late

Interesting, be too full.

Every feat, every way, every turn. Undeveloped.

In the morning I’m silver

You’re always light blue

Why do I move. Why do I move

Finish without me I can’t take the cost

Nine ten

Late again.

Shut me off


Been doing homework all day, so here’s one circa January 12, 2018 at 5:39pm. (I like knowing the time. Frames it better for some reason. Better guess at my mindset for weird shit like this)

Poems · writing

Gut Punch

It started raining today before the clouds showed up

I’ve been chasing my tail in efforts to be enough

Slept through my alarm, cramps hitting hard,

Mom’s asking me about the broken-down car

I’m falling behind. The week hasn’t started and I want to give up, but,

You have to grin and bear it

You put up a fight

It’s the only way to break into light, happiness, laughter.

That’s what they tell me,

Even after I’ve fallen to the ground

They walk on by

“You’re not livin’ til you’re dyin’!”

What a gross goddamn lie.

And even if it’s true, it’s an awful thing to say.

Not everyone’s brains work that way

You don’t throw another stone at a person whose given up

Give them a hand when they’re feeling stuck

It won’t make the clouds go away,

But sometimes it helps to face the day

Poems · writing

A Hot Pocket Haunting

Startled, dreary, drool sticking to me, I fall off the couch

What is that sound?

Why do I care?

I look. The microwave is singing.

No doubt bringing some molten cheese or other into being

But for a good minute all I can do is stare.

Wondering, pondering…

…what the fuck did I put in there??


Don’t you hate it when you put something in the microwave, and just…have absolutely no memory of it happening?