khart-film - Hello Poetry

Today marks 133,920 minutes and the answer still isn’t clear. Unfortunately, it never will be because poetry doesn’t have one. No rhyme or structure nor 14 stanza song can make it easier to solve this meddling art. Only 336 hours to go maybe you’ve got an idea for what all the math in this poem actually signifies or - The message it might have and the meaning rooted in this 23-year-old brain who is struggling as well. Still, after 106 days when the final day is here we’ll all scratch our heads with a shrug, and say, poetry is never clear.

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Apr 8, 2019

Apr 8, 2019 at 2:02 PM UTC

106 Days

Today marks 133,920 minutes and the answer still isn’t clear. Unfortunately, it never will be because poetry doesn’t have one. No rhyme or structure nor 14 stanza song can make it easier to solve this meddling art. Only 336 hours to go maybe you’ve got an idea for what all the math in this poem actually signifies or - The message it might have and the meaning rooted in this 23-year-old brain who is struggling as well. Still, after 106 days when the final day is here we’ll all scratch our heads with a shrug, and say, poetry is never clear.

20

I remember when I asked you, October 2, 2017 what if something happens tonight? I remember when you, rolled your annoyed eyes there is zero chance that something will I remember thinking, anger flooding my brain I bet that no one ever thinks it’ll be them I remember mourning, the 50 people who died they never saw it coming I remember the anxiety, following me to every concert maybe tonight someone snuck through I remember praying, looking around at all the strangers I shouldn’t have to fear for my life I remember shaking my head, wanting you to listen we need stricter laws I remember our fight, your exhausting arguments guns don’t **** people do

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Apr 1, 2019

Apr 1, 2019 at 3:41 PM UTC

Mandalay Bay

I remember when I asked you, October 2, 2017 what if something happens tonight? I remember when you, rolled your annoyed eyes there is zero chance that something will I remember thinking, anger flooding my brain I bet that no one ever thinks it’ll be them I remember mourning, the 50 people who died they never saw it coming I remember the anxiety, following me to every concert maybe tonight someone snuck through I remember praying, looking around at all the strangers I shouldn’t have to fear for my life I remember shaking my head, wanting you to listen we need stricter laws I remember our fight, your exhausting arguments guns don’t **** people do

24

First, The loving, vibrant life I try to give you won’t be fair, finding your ground won’t be easy on this never-ending, spinning orb. Second, Although I keep you safe and sheltered in this, hand-made dome, it can’t protect you from the damage of natural disasters. Third, Rules aren’t meant to be broken because if you break them, you’ll end up tumbling down a steep, rocky cliff with nothing to gain but pain. Fourth, Sticks and stones may break your bones, and other words can break through your innocent, fluorescent bubble and leave you with a litany of tiny scars. Fifth, Crying under the secure, warmth of your home won’t lessen the blow from that whirlwind of turmoil and heartbreak. Sixth, Drowning in a burning elixir and fading into a cloud of toxic smoke will only numb the aches and it will dim your glowing light, killing you rather than healing you. Seventh, Cutting yourself off from this dysfunctional reality will only bring you damp, cold, darkness to fend for yourself and nothing survives on its own. Eighth, No matter how much hatred bubbles up like hot lava inside of you, remember who was your home, remember who cared for you, remember who gave you life, remember me.

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Mar 22, 2019

Mar 22, 2019 at 3:44 PM UTC

Nature's Course

First, The loving, vibrant life I try to give you won’t be fair, finding your ground won’t be easy on this never-ending, spinning orb. Second, Although I keep you safe and sheltered in this, hand-made dome, it can’t protect you from the damage of natural disasters. Third, Rules aren’t meant to be broken because if you break them, you’ll end up tumbling down a steep, rocky cliff with nothing to gain but pain. Fourth, Sticks and stones may break your bones, and other words can break through your innocent, fluorescent bubble and leave you with a litany of tiny scars. Fifth, Crying under the secure, warmth of your home won’t lessen the blow from that whirlwind of turmoil and heartbreak. Sixth, Drowning in a burning elixir and fading into a cloud of toxic smoke will only numb the aches and it will dim your glowing light, killing you rather than healing you. Seventh, Cutting yourself off from this dysfunctional reality will only bring you damp, cold, darkness to fend for yourself and nothing survives on its own. Eighth, No matter how much hatred bubbles up like hot lava inside of you, remember who was your home, remember who cared for you, remember who gave you life, remember me.

23

How can I, a source of such exuberant energy, look so startled? Black, sunken eyes with a wide, gaping mouth that can **** you, but also bring things to life. Hunched against the wall, I pale in comparison to the pretty polka-dot paint, just a hard, blank shell covered in dirt, grime, and dust. Come to me only when time is on the line, with forceful, shaking hands. to fill my deep, dark void with a surge of passion, only to abandon me for hours at a time, while I exert all my energy just to bring you joy. I hum and buzz until you rip away my nutrients until I’m ****** and drained, with my surprised expression returning to one of electrifying horror. But still, I’m the lucky one to give you a glowing light, always full, to destroy the darkness. I’m not one that gets lost in dusty shadows that might never be found, who sits in silence, with that shocked face, waiting to find out his powerful purpose.

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Mar 18, 2019

Mar 18, 2019 at 2:04 PM UTC

My Shocking Thoughts

How can I, a source of such exuberant energy, look so startled? Black, sunken eyes with a wide, gaping mouth that can **** you, but also bring things to life. Hunched against the wall, I pale in comparison to the pretty polka-dot paint, just a hard, blank shell covered in dirt, grime, and dust. Come to me only when time is on the line, with forceful, shaking hands. to fill my deep, dark void with a surge of passion, only to abandon me for hours at a time, while I exert all my energy just to bring you joy. I hum and buzz until you rip away my nutrients until I’m ****** and drained, with my surprised expression returning to one of electrifying horror. But still, I’m the lucky one to give you a glowing light, always full, to destroy the darkness. I’m not one that gets lost in dusty shadows that might never be found, who sits in silence, with that shocked face, waiting to find out his powerful purpose.

12

Budding with excitement and seemingly pointless fear, but I held a new life in my hands shown through a *** of all my savings. My eyes dart wildly in awe of all the different cars, big ones, small ones, new ones, and foreign ones. Everyone smiled at us - the dealers and the other buyers who walked out with shiny, new vessels as if it were nothing. Nobody knew this was our fifth dealership, even we pretended to lose count maybe this time we’ll leave with something. I know they can see how badly I yearn for a car of my very own that I can say is mine, that I worked for it, that I can watch age through the years.

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Mar 11, 2019

Mar 11, 2019 at 1:20 PM UTC

I Went to the Car Dealership

Budding with excitement and seemingly pointless fear, but I held a new life in my hands shown through a *** of all my savings. My eyes dart wildly in awe of all the different cars, big ones, small ones, new ones, and foreign ones. Everyone smiled at us - the dealers and the other buyers who walked out with shiny, new vessels as if it were nothing. Nobody knew this was our fifth dealership, even we pretended to lose count maybe this time we’ll leave with something. I know they can see how badly I yearn for a car of my very own that I can say is mine, that I worked for it, that I can watch age through the years.

12

Multiple eyes glisten under the scalding lights with hooded lids like a blood-thirsty spider stalking its prey Yelling in the spotlight where the words fail to come out locked behind gates of enamel shaking in the cold, wet dark Full-fledged failure alerts the signal which forms salt soaking stains against the burning, red hot flesh Empty and alone, unaccepted and frozen like the scrawny polar bear that wasn’t good enough to be the mate Annihilation takes its course through the inside resembling a death-eating disease stealthily flowing through veins Reduced to nothing more than a fast-fading memory gone as fast as a rollercoaster disappearing into the loud, tight tunnel Silence that used to be comforting now is as deafening as a tree falling in the middle of the forest, but nobody is around

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Feb 20, 2019

Feb 20, 2019 at 6:22 PM UTC

The Path of FEAR

Multiple eyes glisten under the scalding lights with hooded lids like a blood-thirsty spider stalking its prey Yelling in the spotlight where the words fail to come out locked behind gates of enamel shaking in the cold, wet dark Full-fledged failure alerts the signal which forms salt soaking stains against the burning, red hot flesh Empty and alone, unaccepted and frozen like the scrawny polar bear that wasn’t good enough to be the mate Annihilation takes its course through the inside resembling a death-eating disease stealthily flowing through veins Reduced to nothing more than a fast-fading memory gone as fast as a rollercoaster disappearing into the loud, tight tunnel Silence that used to be comforting now is as deafening as a tree falling in the middle of the forest, but nobody is around

14

cheeks fill with the fiery heat of an embarrassing fire eyes close so tightly a pounding ache sprouts from the skull teeth lock together and lips bleed the more they fight to stay closed hands press and are drenched in soaking salt as they hide the guilty pain ears strain at the sound of stupid love songs mixed with ugly cries lungs struggle to catch a breathe feeling like they’re running faster than they should be heart alone in its shallow shaft knowing that it shouldn’t be sad when it feels so much love But the head knows it was better to suffer now than to bleed all over a white dress.

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Feb 15, 2019

Feb 15, 2019 at 1:16 PM UTC

Not So Special

cheeks fill with the fiery heat of an embarrassing fire eyes close so tightly a pounding ache sprouts from the skull teeth lock together and lips bleed the more they fight to stay closed hands press and are drenched in soaking salt as they hide the guilty pain ears strain at the sound of stupid love songs mixed with ugly cries lungs struggle to catch a breathe feeling like they’re running faster than they should be heart alone in its shallow shaft knowing that it shouldn’t be sad when it feels so much love But the head knows it was better to suffer now than to bleed all over a white dress.

8

Dying Sun Warmth on my eyelids welcomes a new day and you, create a reflection against my skin pink carnations sit on the window sill soaking up the sun, but desperately begging for water I kiss you gently and grab the vase my fingertips brush against you while the birds wish us good morning I remember how much you loved the pink carnations when we got them your soft, delicate hands so gently pouring water into the glass the crinkles by your eyes because you were so happy and because it was always too sunny by that window you didn’t care though, sun made you smile so even when the birds stop singing or the carnations begin to die around you I know that the sun will make you smile.

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Feb 6, 2019

Feb 6, 2019 at 3:52 PM UTC

Dying Sun

Dying Sun Warmth on my eyelids welcomes a new day and you, create a reflection against my skin pink carnations sit on the window sill soaking up the sun, but desperately begging for water I kiss you gently and grab the vase my fingertips brush against you while the birds wish us good morning I remember how much you loved the pink carnations when we got them your soft, delicate hands so gently pouring water into the glass the crinkles by your eyes because you were so happy and because it was always too sunny by that window you didn’t care though, sun made you smile so even when the birds stop singing or the carnations begin to die around you I know that the sun will make you smile.

15

I know you’re scared, What is it, the 4th school now? Time to make new friends just to probably leave them again. You’ll be mad about it soon, I mean, why wouldn’t you be? Soon you’ll be overcome with dread each time the alarm rings. For the first time, you’re shy, How can you be shy after all this time? You’ve had to do this more times than most this isn’t hard. So you’re the new kid, It’s a nickname you know well, right? Trust me, it’s better than nicknames you’ll be called later. I’m not trying to scare you, Isn’t it obvious I only want the best for me? Don’t forget how strong you are and what you’ve already accomplished. Keep your head up, kid, Do you really think life won’t get better? Well, I can tell you first hand that this isn’t even that bad. But it will shape you, Just remember that at least, okay? This 14-year-old hell won’t be nearly as tragic 9 years later.

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Feb 3, 2019

Feb 3, 2019 at 2:40 PM UTC

Letter to Me: The angst-filled 14-year-old

I know you’re scared, What is it, the 4th school now? Time to make new friends just to probably leave them again. You’ll be mad about it soon, I mean, why wouldn’t you be? Soon you’ll be overcome with dread each time the alarm rings. For the first time, you’re shy, How can you be shy after all this time? You’ve had to do this more times than most this isn’t hard. So you’re the new kid, It’s a nickname you know well, right? Trust me, it’s better than nicknames you’ll be called later. I’m not trying to scare you, Isn’t it obvious I only want the best for me? Don’t forget how strong you are and what you’ve already accomplished. Keep your head up, kid, Do you really think life won’t get better? Well, I can tell you first hand that this isn’t even that bad. But it will shape you, Just remember that at least, okay? This 14-year-old hell won’t be nearly as tragic 9 years later.

21

I know she’s home when her car is a mile away It’s so loud and I can hear the music playing before she parks I can tell it’s her by the way she slams her door She steps lightly up the flights of stairs unlike the rest Even careful when she unlocks the door and pushes it open Sometimes she has a hat on, but most times not She calls my name and I come into the room I patiently wait for her to throw her bag on the couch And to peel her coat off with huffs of irritation She kicks her boots off to the side before A breath of relief escapes her lips. Finally, she takes notice of me! She sits down on the floor. I chirp with enthusiasm to show her my appreciation She’s gentle at first and then she gets too excited So she grabs me and I immediately remember every day before She does this every day, but somehow I forget this part I cry in protest, but she only laughs Continuing to pepper me with kisses. And now my brother emerges I’m plopped back down on the floor I try to get her attention again, but she’s moved on In defeat, I walk away and sit and glare She never picks him up like she picks me up Oh wait, she picked him up After more kisses he’s put down too She stretches and smiles at us. “Who wants food?”

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Jan 24, 2019

Jan 24, 2019 at 5:17 PM UTC

A Daily Routine

I know she’s home when her car is a mile away It’s so loud and I can hear the music playing before she parks I can tell it’s her by the way she slams her door She steps lightly up the flights of stairs unlike the rest Even careful when she unlocks the door and pushes it open Sometimes she has a hat on, but most times not She calls my name and I come into the room I patiently wait for her to throw her bag on the couch And to peel her coat off with huffs of irritation She kicks her boots off to the side before A breath of relief escapes her lips. Finally, she takes notice of me! She sits down on the floor. I chirp with enthusiasm to show her my appreciation She’s gentle at first and then she gets too excited So she grabs me and I immediately remember every day before She does this every day, but somehow I forget this part I cry in protest, but she only laughs Continuing to pepper me with kisses. And now my brother emerges I’m plopped back down on the floor I try to get her attention again, but she’s moved on In defeat, I walk away and sit and glare She never picks him up like she picks me up Oh wait, she picked him up After more kisses he’s put down too She stretches and smiles at us. “Who wants food?”

28