The stream (all workshops)
I wanted to write about stress
About being overwhelmed and anxious
Struggling to find a sense of belonging
In the mess this world has become
But it's not even about that
It's about the music that's playing in the distance
The melodies that come floating in the breeze
As I stand here on this balcony
Contemplating life
Dear John,
May you rot in hell
Buried with your lies
I'm the dirty secret
You wouldn't tell
Dear, dear John,
Karma's a bitch
A far bigger one than I
Such a shame
If your body wound up in a ditch
Dear John,
I hope this letter finds you well
You selfish, sadistic, abusive prick
Not one more tear will fall
May you rot in hell
You have no idea
What I’ve become or where I’ve been
I am as a stone standing,
In a pool of filthy water
A marker of a dead man's bones
My mind actively
Taking everything in
Contrasting the dark against light
The good against sin
A moment of doubt?
Not having left all hope
Scattered to the wind
But as everyman it is before me
again and again
Desensitized with none to turn to
Not a single friend, to help me
To bear up this burden
Here at the end
And though it crushes me
In the halls of high school, four girls did roam,
Each with their own unique charm and tone.
First was Lisa, popular, smart, and mean,
A girl who always got what she wanted, it seemed.
Next was Eda, the most pretty of all,
But quiet and reserved, never one to brawl.
And then there was Alice, athletic and loud,
Who always stood out in a crowd.
In life we may touch others
Set beautiful things in motion
Sway and bolster the hearts
Of our family and friendships
All our kind actions and loving words
Moving like ripples on the surface
Outward projections of love
Rocking sleepy boats with reverberant lullabies
Echos in time whose source has expired
Don’t ever cease to exist
So long as there are ears to hear
The notes of a loving life can never decay
Poetry helps me pass the time.
When I get bored, I churn out rhyme.
I've had some published (only three)
in some unread anthology.
I know my verse is gauche and gushing;
enough to burn one’s cheeks from blushing,
but dirty laundry gets no airing
and on my page there's seldom swearing.
I never dodge that dread decision:
to pen without the least precision.
Whatever wings its way is writ;
I’ve never been a hypocrite.
We aren't all deductable sums of one name,
Not all equal players in the same game.
Some sit in ivory towers way up high
Others more disposable parts of the pie.
Some know how to do the dosey doe,
Others disregarded as they go.
We may be all sailing out at sea
But in boats not so compatible, as you see.
Some are the pieces that win this game,
Whilst others are tossed as if they're lame.
For some are Kings, Queen's and knighted,
And the rest are left feeling less delighted.
My mother never really showed me she cared
My mother told me to go out and become someone worth something
My mother killed all the thoughts I had of being worth something
My mother lashed at my skin with her cruel words
My mother made all my insecurities what they are today
My mother laughed at the tears falling from my eyes
My mother only wanted to fix me, not seek help for us both
My mother shut the door to our house in my face
My mother kicked me out of the family without me having to leave
Sorting through belongings
a good friend left behind,
I encountered a secret panel
in the back of a dusty book shelf.
Behind it was a collection of anime figurines.
All female, plastic and scantily clad, of course.
While admiring the details
of these strange but beautiful things,
his mother stepped into the room.
I was red-faced, caught in the act!
She simply smiled with a knowing look.
One that said she wished her son were still here
to appreciate his clandestine collection one more time.
Like everything else in our lives
We tend to take for granted
The people who made us who we are
In reality we don’t have to look far
Right by our side since birth
Through our words so ranted
She was the one who really cared
She was the only one who shared
Now that I am older
I remember the actions
Filled with everyday love
Thankful to those above
For the one person that gave me life
The very woman I now miss more
There really is no other
Than my precious Mother
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