passed out on the bathroom floor
because the drugs don't work
and the alcohol doesn't do the job anymore
the progression of consistent failure mixed with anxiety
explodes in my acid volcanic brain I was given
I drink to get away, to escape, to be happy
but those feelings don't come around anymore
the things I said I would never do
have all been done
so that's why you will find me
passed out on the bathroom floor
I really do have a friend who is jealous of me
kinda like that bitch my dad is with.
She says she hates what I write and I write long poems
Wish she would keep her stupid opinions to herself.
I'm 18 and she killed my liking to write off the internet
long poem with big words us teens like to us a lot.
Thanks for ruining my love for writing my feelings!
Read a poem about Poorly poeticized perspectives
saying mean things about poems like the ones I used to write to myself.
All you can do is criticize but you need to learn to spell.
I could tell you how every stupid Taylor swift song I hear reminds me of you.
Or how I'm drowning myself at the expense of my liver.
I could tell you I'm covering my lips in
Red lipstick hoping someone will call me out one bluff.
I know you'll regret leaving me; you always crawl back with broken promises.
And I could tell you how every east coast band I hear brings tears to my eyes.
I could tell you how winter is the most depressing
Time of the year for me because
Everything I see
Everything I do
Everything I hear
Reminds me of you.
And I just want to tell you one thing...
I am doing in everything in my power
In my heart
In my mind
In my body
To move on from what you ever said
the car seemed to be gliding on glass
the last inconvenient instant before impudent impact
the mangled mass of metal and his black crisp body
a spectacle for the masses, all 4 of them
2 volunteer fire fighters and 2 EMTs
later, your father, blind now in one eye
from America’s diabetes, had Ramona
drive him to the spot, to the dead oak
as big around as an oil barrel
dead long before Paul’s 1996 Ford Escort
decided to take a go at it
daddy had to see the place
that infinite space between
yesterday and the tomorrow
that would never come, even though
he had already seen, through his one good eye
his boy’s charred carcass at the county morgue
resting on a silver slab, the clean and cold bed
where he would spend his last night
before the fiery furnace,
Ramona and he could keep his ashes
no need for a big service, no money for one either
but Dub, “Paul's boss down to the auto parts store,”
opened his wallet as wide as it would go
for the cremation and a nice urn
Paul would be missed, by Daddy and Dub
and once in a great while, in the fast and furious world
of the flat gray town where he lived and died
someone would ask, whatever happened to
that old boy at the auto parts store
the one who limped a bit as he walked,
the one who rarely talked but always
smiled through his yellow teeth
when he placed the goods carefully
on the counter
I'm standing in the back
Next to the guy who's sweater
Has been viciously attacked by Moths
And she walks in.
I'm not sure if light is radiating of her
Or the guys bald head sitting
In the front row?...
Gorgeous blonde hair drapes
Over her slender shoulders
Like the curtains
Flowing in my grandma's window
She's wearing converse
She's out of my league
The Cute Girl At The Poetry Reading
The nameless cute girl at the poetry reading
A new search is ongoing,
with Israeli chemists on a trek;
they seek find the color of God,
which was formerly called tekhelet.
Is its significance a harbinger
of future Messianic times?
Can the rabbis or scientists
decipher this dividing line?
It’s an enigmatic shade of blue
that represents God’s infinity
caught between the color spectrum
of visible light and invisibility.
Some experts believe the source,
(though the origin is unknown),
may be the secretive creatures
of antiquity called… the hillazon.
Based on some vague descriptions,
its body resembles the ocean;
can Levitical trade secrets be exposed
with the clarity of resolution?
This divine azure is a key color,
of the high priest’s holy vestments;
for this serves as a reminder to keep
and honor God’s law and commandments.
Allow the penetrating light of God
to serve as a transforming catalyst;
though this mystery of life is unfinished,
know that faith is not an accident.
Open my eyes Lord, that I may see
the royal blue of Your sea
and observe Your sea of the sky,
that depicts the colored backdrop
of the holy throne belonging to Adonai.
Loosely based on:
Num 15:38-39 and an episode of the Naked Archaeologist;
as part of the dye making process, direct sunlight is
required and serves as a catalyst to modify the color
pigment at the atomic level.
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.