7/13/13 12:18pm – 7/23/13 10:56pm
sam, all the same
you’re the sister i never had
you were to come after my brother
you almost took my dad
when you almost took my mother
she’d said enough after my brother
and didn’t leave it for chance to decide
then said she’d like to have another
if they could get her tubes untied
and so the well was then undried
and water began again to flow
and it wasn’t long after they tried
before she began again to show
her cheeks gave off a familiar glow
that shared the news with just a shine
but you never got where you’d need to grow
and shared with more than just a sign
hours before she was feeling fine
our day like her wasn’t far along
hours later they were sewing the line
where internally she went wrong
with her was where i did belong
but dad took me out to the ballgame
on a sand diamond i tried to be strong
for a sister i’d learn never became
sam, all the same
you never were, but had a name
sam, all the same
you never were, but got the blame
7/12/13 12:20pm – 7/17/13 8:50pm
when the hearing goes
when the hearing goes where does it go?
to the next body waiting in line?
much like a soul i think it will flow
through the next body when done with mine
wherever it goes i hope it knows
it won’t be my choice to do without
when the ear drums blow it’s what i’ll owe
for what went in to what i’m about
what good is hello if turned down low
to the man who knew sound as much more?
i’d trade my nose or any of those
senses that make up the lesser four
why it comes to go i’ll never know
so i hold on for dear life to mine
whether leaving slow or ear drums blow
to the next body waiting in line
7/12/13 11:14am – 7/12/13 11:39am
the root of it
“i’ll see you then.”
again i was found making a loose promise with no intention
of making good on it.
i don’t owe him or anyone anything, but as always i found me
in my usual continued state of explanation.
“running to the restroom; I’ll be right back.”
and when i’m not –which I don’t plan to be– he’s going to think
of me being a liar as the problem rather than how much of a boring
lunatic he is being the root of it.
i’m not doing him any favor by being too kind as to not turn and run
in the opposite direction at the sound of his voice.
he’s the one who’s image will have to sit with me, not mine with him.
i am just one of many people, who if not corrected, will continue to
perpetuate others faults at the expense of my time.
7/10/13 6:47pm – 7/10/13 7:07pm
(not a second spent floating southwest)
i keep buying more and more books before i can even
finish the one that i am working on.
maybe there is some part of me that sees the investment i
am making in buying them all up while the wave still crashes
into me, but i also see that it is the same wave that carried my
spending all that money she did not have to be happy.
the wave has taken many forms up until now and for the most
part has not carried me to a place i’d call astray.
there is so much good to be gotten out of the rolling waves that
i am blessed enough to see and further fully submit myself to.
the only problem i have if i were to point out a problem about
this current is that i feel not allowed to be pushed in more than
one direction at a time.
if i was going west at one time and then it is decided i will be
pointed south it has to be a very clean break from west with
not a second spent floating southwest.
i intend to break this habit.
even if it means breaking waves.
7/10/13 7:34pm – 7/11/13 5:35pm
eating him were his own superstitions
with a closed left fist he punched himself square in his right wrist
just beneath the table and out of sight of the surrounding restaurant patrons.
if it had been an empty room or even just a few more turned backs he might
have pulled his hair out right then and there.
but..he was surrounded, so he took out the totaling frustrations on his right
wrist the only way he’d come to know as irrational as it was a way of dealing.
he’d decided he didn’t want to be there, sitting across from his none the wiser friend,
in that dimly lit restaurant anymore.
but it wasn’t the ambiance or the lack there of that was eating him.
eating him were his own tangled set of superstitions he’d created to drape a life around.
he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon though.
all he could do was nod along to the beat of the one-sided conversation for now as he
pictured previous occasions where he’d punched himself in the temple to punish himself
for his own stupidity, thrown a remote control against a wall hoping it’d break and be done
with him, ripped his own hair out when enough backs were turned, almost broke his pinky
punching a chair in his line of fire, half-heartedly tried to stomp a skateboard that he could
not afford to commit to breaking, stretched his own shirt at the collar hoping it would lean
toward ripping knowing all the while(s) they’d bring him no closer to feeling better.
7/10/13 1:20pm – 7/10/13 3:09pm
temporarily give up
(where to next?)
my life is broken into years, those years are broken into days, and those days
are broken into shards i look forward to on that daily basis.
aside from days vacationing. car accidents, or any typical un-typical break from
the norm i look to pretty basic activities to glide me through my day.
smoking. masturbation. eating badly, & drinking all work in their own ways to bring
me closer to the next day with a shit eating grin on my face.
lately though i’ve found the life they use up is worth more than the simple joy they each bring.
for the most part i’m still taking part in most all of them. but now it saddens me to do so.
and without the ones i have managed to temporarily give up i’m sadly sent searching to
be steered throughout my day.
if the goal was to make for the longest year i have succeeded in doing so.
living longer in more ways than one.
7/10/13 1:02pm – 7/10/13 1:20pm
his empty rubber glove
“I don’t have wussy handshake i just didn’t get a good grip”
there’s no way for him to know that his friend would think that of him.
yet he closed an already short window to catch up by post-facing the not obvious.
whether or not it was a limp handshake that’s all i can think of now that it was
brought to my attention.
i didn’t squeeze his empty rubber glove myself, but at least i know it wasn’t his fault.
7/3/13 12:32am – 7/3/13 2:37am
it’s not that i believe the past to be some purer form of an account.
it’s that what dates me in my own time embarrasses me in a lot of ways.
it’s not that i want to be thought of as “without era”.
it’s that the more praised marks we’ve made are what i strive to not take part in.
although it must be said i do write this on a smart phone all while driving and
do appreciate it.
although later i will donate my eyes to the sight of women who take pixelated
shape on the lit screen of a laptop.
it’s not that what you are thinking.
it’s that our time stamps makes it easier for me to lose contact with the world
it so madly wishes to connect me to.
i am it and i hate myself for that.
7/3/13 10:26am – 7/3/13 11:28am
a heavy blink
the first time i woke this morning the digital clock read 6:15am.
instead of staying awake i closed my eyes for what i thought would be a heavy blink.
by the time my lashes had run back & forth to my bottom lid & back up again
my time-keeper secondly spoke 8:30am.
i told myself, “this is pretty close to the time you would have been leaving this morning
to join her & her family for the beach if you weren’t so..”.
before i could finish calling myself selfish i was for the third time facing numbers and they read 9:45am.
i knew it was a stupid rule i’d sprouted to trick my mind alone, but it made me feel good waking before 10am.
it doesn’t matter how late i stay up the night before; something about sleeping in makes me feel gross inside.
and apparently at some point i’d decided the definition of sleeping in was to wake any time after 10am.
i just felt that my days started better when i was awake to see 9:59am turn to double digits.
without realizing it because we never do i was opening my eyes for the fourth time to a clock that said 10:26am.