creature_of_habits - Hello Poetry

I grew, shot out of the Earth Like a fleeing shoot I strained higher and higher Faster and faster from my poisoned roots Years spent waiting, watching the stars of heaven twinkle and romp I put all my hopes into reaching them But nobody told me they'd be gone by the time I got here No one told me they'd move And that I'd still have my poisoned roots

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Jan 19, 2021

Jan 19, 2021 at 8:49 PM UTC

Lie

I grew, shot out of the Earth Like a fleeing shoot I strained higher and higher Faster and faster from my poisoned roots Years spent waiting, watching the stars of heaven twinkle and romp I put all my hopes into reaching them But nobody told me they'd be gone by the time I got here No one told me they'd move And that I'd still have my poisoned roots

9

I had no knowledge from where it came I had no forewarning of this tale to tell But the stone lay shimmering across my path Lying in tall grass parted for my way A walk I took to clear my head To breathe in fresh air and dim the pain in my head Shallow sunlight streaked across the morning sky Crickets, chirping birds, and civilization all creeping at that hour Past the deserted park and over gently-sloped hill Right ‘round the corner, across the sunken ditches I walked to walk and walked to blank my brain Suddenly, Sky's eye rose slightly higher Gave way to royal goitered rays slicing the air I saw it, laying there I saw it! The stone called me by name! I was blinded, emboldened Drawn to quaking power My feet surged forward My hands outstretched God I am among men! Emperor I am among Kings! This stone I have grabbed and this stone which is my own Is the stone by which the world will fall Fall to my influence, my conquest My desires Gravity brought me back to Earth The sound of broken silica quietly folded into the morning buzz Hiding in plain sight, making itself unknown in the sunlight The rock was slipped from my hands and gone from my life Back over sunken ditches, left to turn Slinking down the hill, back through silent playground I returned again to my former life Serendipity no longer my name

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Dec 25, 2019

Dec 25, 2019 at 7:40 PM UTC

For Sake of Serendipity

I had no knowledge from where it came I had no forewarning of this tale to tell But the stone lay shimmering across my path Lying in tall grass parted for my way A walk I took to clear my head To breathe in fresh air and dim the pain in my head Shallow sunlight streaked across the morning sky Crickets, chirping birds, and civilization all creeping at that hour Past the deserted park and over gently-sloped hill Right ‘round the corner, across the sunken ditches I walked to walk and walked to blank my brain Suddenly, Sky's eye rose slightly higher Gave way to royal goitered rays slicing the air I saw it, laying there I saw it! The stone called me by name! I was blinded, emboldened Drawn to quaking power My feet surged forward My hands outstretched God I am among men! Emperor I am among Kings! This stone I have grabbed and this stone which is my own Is the stone by which the world will fall Fall to my influence, my conquest My desires Gravity brought me back to Earth The sound of broken silica quietly folded into the morning buzz Hiding in plain sight, making itself unknown in the sunlight The rock was slipped from my hands and gone from my life Back over sunken ditches, left to turn Slinking down the hill, back through silent playground I returned again to my former life Serendipity no longer my name

32

“So soon must I go my love?” Said I with bold Shakespearean jest A giggle escaped From her rosy lips, let suddenly out from her mind’s possessions With goofy smile and posh accent, She replied in kind to my intent “Of course good sire! You will now take your leave” A flood of mirth and good faith, a shower of genuine joy Blossomed with liveliness betwixt our figures Oriented sideways, laying on low-cropped carpet Our laughing drifted freely in good humorous air Dying slowly into breaths and smiles, her bountiful hair Glowed softly in that room Softening my jagged soul, fixing it with tempered gaze Though Heaven’s eye and lovely Earth Quarreled on that day, separated by grey droplets of clumpèd air In low light, I still retained a clear vision of my love laid before me In Venusian position, a blush from our previous merriment Still traveled up her throat and up her cheek Marking her lovely countenance proudly with color because of me Those moments are now dead and gone The ungrateful witch has left me to hang Solely by my neck In a noose of my own sorrow, growing tighter and tighter until one day I will break And I will die and I will suffocate Under the weight of my body and my baggage This love was not real! Only a lust dressed up in whore's clothes that shrivels up in the light Bah! Who cares about wenches these days? The wretches Merely prowl about the countryside, searching for untested men Nay, boys To draw water from, tying them down and breaching their chests Reaching in and stealing their best Traits and memories and garments and vex them Out of their minds and out of their hearts Out of their homes and out of their children’s arms! Nay, I say! What, ** Dare you contravene my verity? That my heart was broken? That much is truth That I was told, “You are not good enough.”

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Dec 25, 2019

Dec 25, 2019 at 7:38 PM UTC

Forget Me Not

“So soon must I go my love?” Said I with bold Shakespearean jest A giggle escaped From her rosy lips, let suddenly out from her mind’s possessions With goofy smile and posh accent, She replied in kind to my intent “Of course good sire! You will now take your leave” A flood of mirth and good faith, a shower of genuine joy Blossomed with liveliness betwixt our figures Oriented sideways, laying on low-cropped carpet Our laughing drifted freely in good humorous air Dying slowly into breaths and smiles, her bountiful hair Glowed softly in that room Softening my jagged soul, fixing it with tempered gaze Though Heaven’s eye and lovely Earth Quarreled on that day, separated by grey droplets of clumpèd air In low light, I still retained a clear vision of my love laid before me In Venusian position, a blush from our previous merriment Still traveled up her throat and up her cheek Marking her lovely countenance proudly with color because of me Those moments are now dead and gone The ungrateful witch has left me to hang Solely by my neck In a noose of my own sorrow, growing tighter and tighter until one day I will break And I will die and I will suffocate Under the weight of my body and my baggage This love was not real! Only a lust dressed up in whore's clothes that shrivels up in the light Bah! Who cares about wenches these days? The wretches Merely prowl about the countryside, searching for untested men Nay, boys To draw water from, tying them down and breaching their chests Reaching in and stealing their best Traits and memories and garments and vex them Out of their minds and out of their hearts Out of their homes and out of their children’s arms! Nay, I say! What, ** Dare you contravene my verity? That my heart was broken? That much is truth That I was told, “You are not good enough.”

38

I looked, and I saw him standing there The door opened, and with it swelled a lukewarm breeze He smelled of aging spring, perhaps early summer He smelled like David-he was the boy indeed I knew for 3 years His gait bounded and sprung, much like his pulse He could never sit still, blessing and curse in one boy He greeted me upon entering, our palms crossed in a handshake The exact nature was secret, known only to our tangled minds A tangle of limbs he was indeed, clumsy and spry His handwriting not much better, a reflection of his flair That didn’t matter though, David was much like me We were just like two aces in a hand of Destiny I had been alone in that classroom extension, left to my thoughts Swirly and dark, the beginnings of a somber chapter in my life Nonetheless, a sun still lay shining at the end of that verse Shining until what was to transpire finally turned the page Never to beat around the bush, in characteristic style David expressed an affinity for me, a liking, a tangible affection A dagger cleaved through he and me, severing us in two You were left with some of me, and I with some of You I turned away from him, my mind and my heart made up All the illusions I had of myself broke- for a moment I knew who I truly was I rejected him and walked away But couldn’t resist coming back and stabbing him again The hole in my heart drove me to hopeless pastures I was infected with a disease and was determined he would get it too Only later on grasping my folly would the regret set in God, it did, and I can never let it go Long as I live, I will remember that spring Early in the summer I will remember that breeze that carried his scent towards me And I will remember the sight of him broken-by me

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Dec 25, 2019

Dec 25, 2019 at 7:35 PM UTC

Summer, Somber

I looked, and I saw him standing there The door opened, and with it swelled a lukewarm breeze He smelled of aging spring, perhaps early summer He smelled like David-he was the boy indeed I knew for 3 years His gait bounded and sprung, much like his pulse He could never sit still, blessing and curse in one boy He greeted me upon entering, our palms crossed in a handshake The exact nature was secret, known only to our tangled minds A tangle of limbs he was indeed, clumsy and spry His handwriting not much better, a reflection of his flair That didn’t matter though, David was much like me We were just like two aces in a hand of Destiny I had been alone in that classroom extension, left to my thoughts Swirly and dark, the beginnings of a somber chapter in my life Nonetheless, a sun still lay shining at the end of that verse Shining until what was to transpire finally turned the page Never to beat around the bush, in characteristic style David expressed an affinity for me, a liking, a tangible affection A dagger cleaved through he and me, severing us in two You were left with some of me, and I with some of You I turned away from him, my mind and my heart made up All the illusions I had of myself broke- for a moment I knew who I truly was I rejected him and walked away But couldn’t resist coming back and stabbing him again The hole in my heart drove me to hopeless pastures I was infected with a disease and was determined he would get it too Only later on grasping my folly would the regret set in God, it did, and I can never let it go Long as I live, I will remember that spring Early in the summer I will remember that breeze that carried his scent towards me And I will remember the sight of him broken-by me

32

I love the sound of rain It fills a heart that swoons with Memories and pain that never go away I love the sound of rain Gale force winds and rumbling thunder Rain delicate destruction down on An Earth that’s deserving I love the sound of rain It silences the crackle of Every warm campfire and its songs Provides wet tinder for my match to burn I love the sound of rain I love the sky as it darkens and All light leaves the world as it pours Sky opens with tears of heaven Weeping for a broken Earth I’m Not sure if I like the rain There’s no Sun left to guide behind Burdened clouds And Time become still I think I hate the rain When Earth was still young It rained 10 million years Before void wasteland Became beautiful Ocean It rains a lot over here I am not sure If it ever stops raining

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Dec 25, 2019

Dec 25, 2019 at 7:27 PM UTC

10 Million Years

I love the sound of rain It fills a heart that swoons with Memories and pain that never go away I love the sound of rain Gale force winds and rumbling thunder Rain delicate destruction down on An Earth that’s deserving I love the sound of rain It silences the crackle of Every warm campfire and its songs Provides wet tinder for my match to burn I love the sound of rain I love the sky as it darkens and All light leaves the world as it pours Sky opens with tears of heaven Weeping for a broken Earth I’m Not sure if I like the rain There’s no Sun left to guide behind Burdened clouds And Time become still I think I hate the rain When Earth was still young It rained 10 million years Before void wasteland Became beautiful Ocean It rains a lot over here I am not sure If it ever stops raining

28

The restaurant is quiet, relatively, the one that Maya told you about yesterday at lunch She and her boyfriend mentioned “Three’s Company”— No not the show— And how we should go out there sometime “Yeah, maybe we should” You said because you don’t know how to say no The lighting is warm, like an Olive Garden But there’s a draft on your neck and your hands are cold because there is no one standing next to you You wish you were there instead; even though this place looks nice, you don’t know if it actually is And you start to feel the vibrations Before you psych out and walk out, you sit down at a table and wait for an underpaid waitress— There she is— “Hello, my name is Elif and welcome to Three’s Company. What would you like to order?” You spot her nametag— “Excuse me, would you happen to be of Turkish descent?” Her eyes light up— “Wow, how’d you know that? Everyone just thinks I’m American.” Remember, she has to be nice— “I like exploring languages cultures. I find it fascinating that we’re all the same, yet so radically different in our own way.” This doesn't actually make sense, but it sounds interesting. Her eyebrows dance. Cute— “Well Mr. Philosopher, what can our establishment provide for you today?” Quick, glance at the board— “American Classic. No pickles” “Coming right up!” Her pen damages the atmosphere for a few moments, and then she’s gone You almost feel like you’re human until you remember she’s underpaid to smile and small talk And your hands start shaking again; look I’m sorry kid I like you But you’re not much company

0

Dec 25, 2019

Dec 25, 2019 at 7:16 PM UTC

Table for Two

The restaurant is quiet, relatively, the one that Maya told you about yesterday at lunch She and her boyfriend mentioned “Three’s Company”— No not the show— And how we should go out there sometime “Yeah, maybe we should” You said because you don’t know how to say no The lighting is warm, like an Olive Garden But there’s a draft on your neck and your hands are cold because there is no one standing next to you You wish you were there instead; even though this place looks nice, you don’t know if it actually is And you start to feel the vibrations Before you psych out and walk out, you sit down at a table and wait for an underpaid waitress— There she is— “Hello, my name is Elif and welcome to Three’s Company. What would you like to order?” You spot her nametag— “Excuse me, would you happen to be of Turkish descent?” Her eyes light up— “Wow, how’d you know that? Everyone just thinks I’m American.” Remember, she has to be nice— “I like exploring languages cultures. I find it fascinating that we’re all the same, yet so radically different in our own way.” This doesn't actually make sense, but it sounds interesting. Her eyebrows dance. Cute— “Well Mr. Philosopher, what can our establishment provide for you today?” Quick, glance at the board— “American Classic. No pickles” “Coming right up!” Her pen damages the atmosphere for a few moments, and then she’s gone You almost feel like you’re human until you remember she’s underpaid to smile and small talk And your hands start shaking again; look I’m sorry kid I like you But you’re not much company

30

Normally this isn’t the way it goes, but this time I’ll do differently And so I ask who are you? What is your name? Do you like running? I do as long as I can breathe I dream of a day where I can run freely in silent poplar forests without my lungs weighing me down What is your favorite kind of music? Do you like pop, rock, or hip-hop? Is your soul kneaded and worked by tender hands like Jazz? Swing? I may not look the part, but I love classical music; there’s something about listening to Chopin’s Nocturnes that makes me feel as if I am right there with him, sitting in the pews of an abandoned church whose dead parishioners long ago grew bored of contemplating their sins. I feel as if I am gently sipping his breath like one would coffee that’s still a bit too hot, savoring the stories he weaves out of thin piano strings that taste like moonlight It is a flavor that seldom is tiresome I wish I could cook some for you If you could go anywhere, anywhere in the world, where would it be? Would you roll into an airport with your luggage in New York? Tokyo? Would you brave the crushing heat of Cairo for a glimpse of Giza? I would go anywhere, anywhere you’d like, as long as we come home I’ll open the door and immediately turn on the space heater—I can sense you hate being cold While the tea is warming on the stove, we’ll talk about your favorite artist’s best album Listening until we’re interrupted by the shrill shriek of a teapot needing attention And that night I will dream that my footsteps will never be lonely I’m terribly sorry, who are you and what is your name? I do not know; you are there and I am in here; my mouth is so dry it hurts Neither coffee nor alcohol can spur me to action There is nothing I can drink I can imagine, but I will never ask I already have, so many times

0

Dec 24, 2019

Dec 24, 2019 at 8:35 PM UTC

From Across the Bar

Normally this isn’t the way it goes, but this time I’ll do differently And so I ask who are you? What is your name? Do you like running? I do as long as I can breathe I dream of a day where I can run freely in silent poplar forests without my lungs weighing me down What is your favorite kind of music? Do you like pop, rock, or hip-hop? Is your soul kneaded and worked by tender hands like Jazz? Swing? I may not look the part, but I love classical music; there’s something about listening to Chopin’s Nocturnes that makes me feel as if I am right there with him, sitting in the pews of an abandoned church whose dead parishioners long ago grew bored of contemplating their sins. I feel as if I am gently sipping his breath like one would coffee that’s still a bit too hot, savoring the stories he weaves out of thin piano strings that taste like moonlight It is a flavor that seldom is tiresome I wish I could cook some for you If you could go anywhere, anywhere in the world, where would it be? Would you roll into an airport with your luggage in New York? Tokyo? Would you brave the crushing heat of Cairo for a glimpse of Giza? I would go anywhere, anywhere you’d like, as long as we come home I’ll open the door and immediately turn on the space heater—I can sense you hate being cold While the tea is warming on the stove, we’ll talk about your favorite artist’s best album Listening until we’re interrupted by the shrill shriek of a teapot needing attention And that night I will dream that my footsteps will never be lonely I’m terribly sorry, who are you and what is your name? I do not know; you are there and I am in here; my mouth is so dry it hurts Neither coffee nor alcohol can spur me to action There is nothing I can drink I can imagine, but I will never ask I already have, so many times

23