if you make a concrete judgement of somebody without fully getting to understand them, that's a sign of stupidity, and that's what she did to me
and my family, without even knowing my mother and father, she didn't even bother
to recall why she'd often dismiss, them as just religious, freaks who took care of their kids, and didn't get divorced, stayed together through the weather
she claimed they only did it cuz of the kids, but they're out of the house now, and my parents are still together and in love
what she couldn't find, within our family, and her simple mind, is that they would have loved her too, if she would've accepted them, or got to know them, or had a talk, or just listened, but instead, she placed them in a class with the rest, of the people she thought she knew best
but look inside and you might find that she don't know her self, and that's why she has to place, this label upon those who say grace, before they eat dinner
my mother and father, i love, so much. and that's why it hurt when she said they are weird. and that they're the reason my brother smoked crack.
fuck that. tears come down my face are dried, the stains from her lies still infiltrate my eyes. but it's okay, i live and forgive another day, just like my parents taught me
move on and pray
My mother loves you more than I love you
And that's not saying much
Maybe cuz I hate you
And want to gouge out your eyes
The second you start looking at me
Maybe cuz your haircut is horrific
My mother loves you more than I love you
Yet you're supposed to be my boyfriend
But what's going on
I never see you
Maybe cuz you don't care about me
And you never talk to me
Maybe cuz I don't care about you
And I never talk to you
Or answer your [non-existent] calls
My mother loves you more than I love you
But your mom hates me
And I hate your mom
So I guess we're even
My mother loves you more than I love you
So stop gloating
And loving
And living
Just stop
And think about me
Your girlfriend
And maybe just...
Get a new haircut.
Easing from the center of a
Six foot ever-green hedge
As if thru an invisible doorway
From Zombie-land
Head first
Eyes like headlights
With high-beams on
Swiveling on too thin neck
Checking the scene
For a victim...
Emaciated shoulders
Pointy knee
Stretches
Ragged pant legs and
Ashy ankles
Flopping shoes… with
Empty lace-holes
Until finally
An entire man
Or what used to be one
Spies me…
But not before I see…
Just trying to get to work
But it’s the two-legged animals
That one must
Beware of
At five a.m.
In the city
≈
Police car cruising
The complex parking lot
Spotlight shines
But I don’t mind
Check me out Mr. Officer…
If you need to …
Cuz I’m not the one you are looking for
So he passes… as
Dusty Perpetrator
Rises
From inside
The dumpster across the way…
Scabby,
Crafty face
Uncomfortably resting under
Debris filled hair
Turns on
Boney neck… and
Spies me…
But not before I see…
Casually shut the door… and
Engage the locks
Cuz it’s the two-legged animals
That one must
Beware of
When the door knob jiggles
In the city
i dont know how much longer i an expected to go on like this:
broke, unemployed the last four years, too talented,
used, though loved
the self centered qualities of my friends and family who all claim to know me has me broken, I wish to just sit and rot in darkness rather than break their hearts with the the way it is
most could never possibly imagine going as long as i did with no money without digging in the trash, I managed to set an example for the youth that cash isn't everything, that the secret is finding happiness, that the secret's to finding happiness is to find happiness.
my decisions have cost me; everyone benefits yet nobody knows the entire costs see I let my bones rot and pop for the satisfaction of others
it would seem nobody's payed attention, but it's all cool it was all part of this teachers lesson the next way for me to get you on to your next way is to to tell you to keep your neck straight, don't take a pill but concentrate I gravitate not cuz it's the only way I'll leave and fly away from this this world only if and when I want to, it's not that hard to contemplate
when your stomach hurts,
lay on your hands,
it makes it better
where your heart aches
let off the sounds that you have
and if your mind breaks
take a look around cuz i bet you it didn't
I think I could fall for you,
cuz you make me feel amazing.
When I see you I light up.
When I walk with you I feel secure.
But you aren't mine.
So I let you go.
If you choose to stay, stay.
If you choose to go, go.
But I won't cling.
I won't clutch,
because I still need to be me.
Being alone is not that bad,
just with you life is beautiful.
But I must stay me.
So I let you go,
not for yourself,
but for myself,
because I can't lose myself in you.
Someday, if it works out,
then we shall be happy together
because we each shall be whole.
So, my dear,
if you stay, then stay,
but if you must go,
then you can go.
I will always be here.
I will always be whole.
Thank you for helping me be me.
written in 2010
i think i can stand the world today
everythings keepng me from being in my grave
my friends and my family they treat me like royalty
and I'm going to do what it takes to get paid
i think i i wont mind this world today
i got knowledge but still on my face
my friends and family
act like honeybees
comtemplating if they should fly or stay
and we all return to our hive
and we all fight to stay alive
and our bodies break down like leaves on the ground
eventually we all give our final sting
i think ill contrast and compare today
reorganize a new way
my friends and my enimies, id like to think they learned from me
cuz theres only so much i can do or say
and we are surely all alive
we witness the birth and we cry when they die
and our society dumbs down
like radio sounds
inevidibly
we all become autumn leaves
Just cuz you take digital pictures of some girl, don't mean your a photographer
.........................................
I don't come here much anymore.
Too many memories.
They say every house has a tale to tell,
Every rusted door jam a mystery.
That window over there, looking pale
And yellowed with age
And dust and yesterdays wonder, I broke
Way, way back before Grandpa had his stroke
And Grandma left her rocker for the last time.
I'd thrown a baseball right through it.
Pa was drinking then, the hard liquor,
And he whipped me raw out back behind the shed
With the full buckle. He reminded me
Windows cost money we don't have.
And Eleanor...
She was six or seven then.
She was just learning how to ride a bike,
And she was proud as can be.
She would hang out by the hollyhocks,
Pretending they were scarecrows,
Naming each one,
And telling me she'd found a pirates treasure
Buried out there near the windmill that still needed
A coat or two of fresh paint.
She was that shine in Momma's eyes,
The one person in all the world Grandma would tell
Her stories to -
Stories that would bring Eleanor
Into worlds of imagination and wonder
She'd never known before.
And Eleanor would drink it in,
All the color and fire,
That lingered in every word.
And when she wandered that late October night
Into the fields,
We searched up and down with lanterns lit and flashlights, And the neighbors helped,
And we found her come morning in the silo.
I guess she'd climbed in to explore.
You can't breathe when it hits you. It's like it
Sucks the air right out of the little space you find ,
And the weight of the grain slowly drowns out your Thoughts and your struggles, your prayers
And your cries. And nothing's left to do
But feel that terror
Of nothingness pull you away.
So many memories...
And I was angry then. Angry at Pa,
At Gren,
At God.
I blamed them for everything and then some.
I learned to smoke , and I did it well.
I learned to swear, and I was good at it.
I didn't stay home much after that.
I left, hitched a ride to New Castle Valley,
And then to Porterville.
I didn't care for schooling,
So I found a job feeding pigs.
That lead to butchering. And I was good at it.
I could lose myself in it. In the thunder of the sin,
Found some satisfaction in how they bled.
I didn't go back til after Dad died.
He'd lost everything, did a bit of drinking,
Spent his time in the county jail,
Did more drinking
When he got out.
I'd learned Grandpa died of the pneumonia,
And Grandma had a few strokes.
Nobody ever told me what happened to Momma.
She just disappeared.
...and over time I grew less angry.
And I'd talk to God at night,
Sometimes I'd talk to Eleanor, cuz I knew
She was up there with God doing angel things,
Probably riding a bicycle real good by now.
Time marched on and I made due.
But I don't come here much anymore.
This place haunts me.
The silo that claimed Eleanor now a rusted heap
Of wood and metal that watches every step I take
...and I hate it,
I'd burn it to ashes if I could.
The porch where Grandma's rocker sat
Is weather beaten and tired.
And the stump where Grandpa would sit
Trimming his fingernails with that pocket knife
Lays on its side, victim to the winds of time
And those echoes that whisper things I thought
I'd forgotten.
And I lose it for a moment
And have to mop away a few tears.
Me, a fifty-six year old blubbering fool,
Still picking at the scars.
I can hear her voice,
Her laughter,
As she circled the gravel road on her bike,
Kicking at the small stones to get the bicycle moving
Just a little faster.
And I can almost see her sweet face
And her eyes so wide
They captured the Autumn sun like a rising star.
And there's Momma, hollering "Supper's ready."
And Pa, slamming down the hood on
The truck and wiping the hot sweat from his brow
As Grandma's little rocking chair squeaked its protests
Into the wind.
And there was Grandpa,
Grinning and pocketing that knife
And kicking mud off his
Work boots and heading on in.
No, I don't come here much anymore.
This place holds far too many ghosts for my tastes.
Copyright © 2012 Richard D. Remler
.........................................................
"You fall out of your mother's womb,
you crawl across open country under fire,
and drop into your grave."
-Quentin Crisp
........................................................
i talked to you a few days ago
wanted to give you more compliments
you ended it on a sour note
and this may be it
but you like it that way, for its all you know
i could read you like a book but i'd be stepping on your toes
most think slow i suppose
but nope not me
im straight happy sober not trembling while the rest are settling
and if your off with him
you're wasting your day, your time
cuz what this is, is alot further than rhyme
