Nobody is thinking of me
Not them or he or she
Why would they
What can I be
I'm nothing but a thinker
Makes me a sinker
With everyone's mood
No one wants
Me around
That's why I'm at the lost and found
He throws me out
So why shouldn't you
Its exactly what you'll do
So please just go
Leave me alone in this room
Leave me alone to my doom
Where I sit in my thoughts
And stare at the knots
Tangling my feelings
And bruises on my heart
From all the beatings.
I think
You drink
Leave me alone
Just go home.
Remember when that smile, sent your heart to flutter like birds
A smile would slip across your cheeks, and tug wrinkles at your eyes
Remember when his voice would enter through your mind
Then close your eyes and wish to capture everything that happened in that time
Remember when you spoke- almost everyday
yeah but that lasted just a week
And today's not gonna be that day...
i tried to write about how
the flowers craved the warmth
from the sun,
but somehow i ended up
writing about
you
to me, the world doesn't
spin in your absence,
and when you leave
the sky becomes just a
little bit darker
your voice would, always,
be my favorite soundtrack
i hope you never fall,
you never feel pain
you are an addiction,
i'm afraid too much of you
would be an
unhealthy overdose
i hope you never think of me
as much as i think
about waking up
next to you at 3am
The world around me
All this random stuff getting hurled around me
People getting burned around me
Life seems pretty hard… around me
I’m the observer, that fly on the wall
The observer, still on the wall watching everything around me crumble
Watching everyone fall
The one that’s unnoticeable, like the extra in a movie
A constant extra though, immovable… as much as these events really move me
I watch and wait…
And wait for what?
A change, I think
I think I’ll change…
Tact
And do something about it
But will it really make a difference?
My Input that is
Or, will it make no difference?
Would everything remain the same, with or without it?
I still sit still on the wall, if flies can do that, ‘sit’ on a wall
Considering moving over to the windowsill and watching this downfall
Of society, of the world around me
Financial downfall as well as social, not to mention moral
On second thought, maybe I’ll just hang back…. and do nothing at all
For if I have learned anything from our leaders, it is that
Any input is…
Optional
Seasonal
Not to mention conditional
For to do anything about this without any profit or benefit in sight…
Well, that would just be plain impractical.
there’s a boy with a black jacket and green eyes jumping into your car
and he asks you to buy him a cupcake so you do
and he hasn’t told you his name and you haven’t told him that you stole this car
he follows you home and crawls into your bed
he tells you what his name is but you think he’s lying
so you let him tuck up to your body and tighten his arms around your shoulders
when you wake up he’s still there and it’s still dark outside
so he takes your hands and pulls you outside
you drink something that makes you feel numb
and you still haven’t told him that you stole that car
and he hasn’t paid you back for the cupcake so you sit in silence
and then you go to bed again and he’s there
when you wake up there’s a warmth pressed on top of you and hair in your face
he’s still there and you’re still not sure what his real name is
he says he has to leave soon and his voice is weak
and well, you don’t want him to leave
so one day you wake up and it’s been snowing all night
and it’s freezing and he’s not there
it takes weeks and weeks and you wondered if you dreamed him up
and you want to know why he got in your car
and why you let him get close to you
you still can’t stop thinking even when the world’s asleep
but then its 3 am and you just got to sleep and something crashes through your window
so its him, and he’s soaking wet from the rainstorm outside
he crawls into your bed and you say ‘took your time’
and you can feel him smile into your neck and he whispers so only you can hear him
‘i went away but then i remember you and i came running back’
Eyes welded shut.
Have you heard the sound or felt the burn of a cigarette being extinguished on your skin?
Have you ever compared pain to pain?
Emotional vs physical.
No winner ever declared though that is what makes it beautiful, and ugly.
We praise beauty on the outside and ugly on the inside.
Sharing the left over love for ugly on the outside and beauty on the inside.
That is why sad songs journey through my heart and out my brain.
They are simply experiencing the emptiness that remains in such a full world.
A full world full of fools.
The emotional killed the physical as we continue to perish to a point of no return.
It can heal with time, though just like burns that turn to scars on your skin, emotional scars never fully leave.
That is the point of this poem.
To remind you of the burn, that sang for a scar, in order to appreciate the rain.
That laughing and crying spare no difference, and I love that we are all fucked up.
For indeed, in some way, we are all fucked up.
Though fear not the unknown, for that is everything, and nothing.
A beauty all can access to make emptiness feel at home.
Got home from the hospital late last night
Still can't seem to find my appetite
I can't seem to sit still
There's a hole that I don't know how to fill
I've listened to my ipod non stop
Headphones so loud I feel my ears are gonna pop
The dice will fall as they may
But at the end of the day
I know that they were always loaded
I feel like my life has always been encoded
Protected by a cipher I could never completely break
I never truly understood what was at stake
Until that day last week
When you and I were hanging by the creek
We were laughing and tossing rocks
Just relaxing having good long talks
When my vision started to go hazy
and I know this is crazy
But i knew then that I was dying
And you started crying
I felt a sharp tightening in my chest
I lost consciousness as the attack progressed
I woke up in my hospital bed
The doctors told me that I should be dead
They used phrases like "suffered major cardiac event"
I asked what that meant
I told me that I had a heart attack
I was immediately taken aback
I was only seventeen
This was almost something that was unseen
Arrhythmia was the name of the disease
They said it was easy to manage with medicine and their expertise
But now I can no longer rest
Knowing that I have ticking time bomb in my chest
Whenever you're feeling down.
You just need a clown.
to release you from frown.
living in this wicked town.
to mask your loneliness,
to free up your heavy bones.
mesmerize you in pure bliss,
in his talkative humorous tones.
to tickle your thoughts,
and pass through your worries.
to make you feel at home,
inhibitions will be buried.
with this magical tricks
the medicinal antics.
talents he mastered and shared
jokes you found candid.
never a single dull moment,
a clown is all you need.
happiness that a friend, acquaintance,
or lover can never give
And just when I think that this struggle is too hard,
When I think that my Lover could not possibly want me back;
Just when you've spoken enough of your old familiar lies,
And JUST when you thought you'd won me over…
T H E R E. H E. I S. …my True Love.
"Finally!" I say. I am out of breath due to you smothering and stifling sentences. "Some Air! I can breathe," and I breathe You in deep.
………………………………..
Marvin O’Hannigan Fillimigroo
Crossed his arms and frowned.
The thought of eating
Black-Eyed-Peas
Did not at all seem sound.
The entire Black-Eyed-Pea idea
Seemed rather frivolous
And odd.
Why, he would never eat
A Black-Eyed Pea,
Not even in its pod.
He’d stare at them
And they’d stare right back.
Their eyes narrowed
To shades of black.
He’d see their fangs,
Their glare, their claws,
And he doubted even
Santa Clause
Would approve of finding,
As of late,
A Black-Eyed-Pea
Upon his plate.
Now,
Marvin O’Hannigan Fillimigroo,
Never did anything
He did not plan to.
And on the list he’d compiled
Of things never to try
The Black-Eyed-Pea ranked
Considerably high.
Just the name of the pea
Caused his stomach to churn,
His right eye to twitch,
And his nostrils to burn.
The hair on his arms
Would all stand on end,
Something young Marvin
Could not comprehend.
So he waited, and waited,
Then waited some more,
Just to clarify things,
And perhaps underscore
The fact that
Marvin O’Hannigan Fillimigroo
Had no intention of ever eating
This Black-Eyed-Pea stew.
Eating them was probably
Like eating pasty pumpkin eyes,
Without the benefit or joy
Of old fashioned pumpkin pies.
To hide their taste with butter sauce,
Or drown them in a stew,
Seemed impractical, illogical.
No! Black-Eyed Peas
Would never do
The taste they'd leave upon his lips
Would numb his very fingertips,
And make his ear lobes prick and twitch,
And the tip-top of his nose would itch.
But since Marvin was but
Only seven years old,
He usually had to do
As he was told
“You’re not leaving this table, ”
Said his Father, displeased,
“Until you’ve eaten every one
Of those Black-Eyed-Peas.”
But Marvin was stern,
And he had no intention
Of ever eating a recipe
Of this concocted invention.
“If it’s as good as you say, ”
He stared up at his Dad,
“Why don’t you eat it
If it isn’t that bad? ”
And his Dad crossed his arms,
Looking down at his son.
“I’ve eaten my Black-Eyed-Peas,
The whole lot. Every one.”
“The big ones, the round ones,
The flat ones, the tall ones.
The brown ones, the black ones
The fat as a ball ones.”
“I have eaten a rather
Impressive amount
Of Black-Eyed-Peas
To ever take count.”
So Marvin thought, and he thought,
And he considered a plan.
After all, Marvin was special,
He was his own man.
He looked up at his Dad,
And he let his eyes shine.
“Dad, if you’re still hungry,
You can always have mine.”
Copyright © 2010 Richard D. Remler
Marvin O'Hannigan Fillimigroo 101014/4
