sam-greig-mohns - Hello Poetry

The train is full of strangers I am not looking at them yetI know they are there Bodies pressed close to mine Eyes closed I breath in their lives Old leather shoes, perfume, hair gel and peach lotion The stranger in front of me smells of a wet January afternoon Cold and sharp, yet with a familiar damp mustiness that lingers in his absence To his left is an early morning breakfast smell Oatmeal and sugar Brown sugar with heavy caramel undertones that melt into the memory He steps past Wet January, past Hair Salon and steps off Wet January follows on his heels while Hair Salon remains , now on my right We are joined by English Sitting Room, he is made of cigar smoke and wooden matches, leather arm chair and stone fireplace, beside him is Darkened Movie Theatre and Old Gym Bag Everyone shuffles; hive minded away from Old Gym Bag Hair Salon is muttering. English Sitting Room rustles a newspaper Movie Theatre brushes my shoulder, apologizes and disappears. I wish, vaguely to ask what I might seem to them in my own internal context if only to satisfy the slow bubbling curiosity that wells up in me from some deep hidden place But my stop has come and I am stepping off now Knowing my existence will pass silently from their thoughts all together as soon as the doors close behind me Goodbye Hair Salon and English Sitting Room Farewell Old Gym Bag, until next we meet if ever again

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Mar 8, 2020

Mar 8, 2020 at 3:05 PM UTC

The smell of strangers

The train is full of strangers I am not looking at them yetI know they are there Bodies pressed close to mine Eyes closed I breath in their lives Old leather shoes, perfume, hair gel and peach lotion The stranger in front of me smells of a wet January afternoon Cold and sharp, yet with a familiar damp mustiness that lingers in his absence To his left is an early morning breakfast smell Oatmeal and sugar Brown sugar with heavy caramel undertones that melt into the memory He steps past Wet January, past Hair Salon and steps off Wet January follows on his heels while Hair Salon remains , now on my right We are joined by English Sitting Room, he is made of cigar smoke and wooden matches, leather arm chair and stone fireplace, beside him is Darkened Movie Theatre and Old Gym Bag Everyone shuffles; hive minded away from Old Gym Bag Hair Salon is muttering. English Sitting Room rustles a newspaper Movie Theatre brushes my shoulder, apologizes and disappears. I wish, vaguely to ask what I might seem to them in my own internal context if only to satisfy the slow bubbling curiosity that wells up in me from some deep hidden place But my stop has come and I am stepping off now Knowing my existence will pass silently from their thoughts all together as soon as the doors close behind me Goodbye Hair Salon and English Sitting Room Farewell Old Gym Bag, until next we meet if ever again

22

It’s to loud here There is to much happening Everywhere I turn the sound is finding crevasses Seeping through like rain water A downpour of noise It trickles in faster then I can bail it out again Filling everything I have no room to think here The air is made of harp strings all vibrating in a different tone Shaking all thought right from my head Enough, this has to stop... I draw back behind my walls An island of silence I watch people slip past my guarded coastline They call to me My eyes flick lines of morse code to them But they are far to busy being loud to hear the soft tick tick of my conversation I sit alone to watch a muted sunset Static lapping against my toes in frothy waves But I don’t hear a thing Finally, it is quiet

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Feb 5, 2019

Feb 5, 2019 at 6:55 AM UTC

Loud

It’s to loud here There is to much happening Everywhere I turn the sound is finding crevasses Seeping through like rain water A downpour of noise It trickles in faster then I can bail it out again Filling everything I have no room to think here The air is made of harp strings all vibrating in a different tone Shaking all thought right from my head Enough, this has to stop... I draw back behind my walls An island of silence I watch people slip past my guarded coastline They call to me My eyes flick lines of morse code to them But they are far to busy being loud to hear the soft tick tick of my conversation I sit alone to watch a muted sunset Static lapping against my toes in frothy waves But I don’t hear a thing Finally, it is quiet

21

I lived in a glass house once... it was perfect perfect walls... perfect floors... perfect ceiling... ...always perfect... but never happy that's what happens though isn't it? when you live in the idea that your life should be scrutinized by strangers when your life, becomes their life Don't throw stones they say Don't break down those perfect walls, perfect floors, perfect ceiling Don't shatter our expectations of you I threw stones

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Oct 23, 2018

Oct 23, 2018 at 11:02 PM UTC

House of colored glass

I lived in a glass house once... it was perfect perfect walls... perfect floors... perfect ceiling... ...always perfect... but never happy that's what happens though isn't it? when you live in the idea that your life should be scrutinized by strangers when your life, becomes their life Don't throw stones they say Don't break down those perfect walls, perfect floors, perfect ceiling Don't shatter our expectations of you I threw stones

10

when every mirror holds but a fractured selection of truths which ones do you trust? who is left to say what side once said This way up or is every moment just a chance encounter.. rolling dice without numbers over.. and over.. and over until we land mirrored side up smiling.. or not or not I'm not asking for sense.. just direction so I can move forward rather then just roll over again

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May 22, 2018

May 22, 2018 at 5:33 PM UTC

This way up

when every mirror holds but a fractured selection of truths which ones do you trust? who is left to say what side once said This way up or is every moment just a chance encounter.. rolling dice without numbers over.. and over.. and over until we land mirrored side up smiling.. or not or not I'm not asking for sense.. just direction so I can move forward rather then just roll over again

12

There are no strings on these balloons so instead lets just drift together even if it's only for a moment I'll be here with you until you just fly away

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Nov 2, 2017

Nov 2, 2017 at 2:47 PM UTC

Balloons for you

There are no strings on these balloons so instead lets just drift together even if it's only for a moment I'll be here with you until you just fly away

6

"They took my mom off life support" That was how our conversation started My friend cried he never cries... I just stare back at him feeling nothing, but I am crying too My brain is re-enacting an action without meaning copy, paste copy, paste copy, paste We cry together He hugs me and I hug him back I think how hot he feels like a fever of grief His tears are soaking through my shirt, collecting against my skin and sliding down one by one towards my heart I can't feel anything anymore... just him I want to, but I can't... or won't I know I have all the right words filed away for such a situation Cue card apologies Voice recordings in my head on repeat Other peoples words... not mine I'm so sorry I'm so sorry I'm so... I'm not sorry I'm sad for you... yes... that belongs to me that I can say We hug again He feels like a wildfire against my cold exterior I'm so sorry I'm so sorry I'm... tired of all the pretending My feelings are currency without value here so I keep them hidden I'm not sorry I can't be It's not my fault never was Cancer can't be my fault, and my currency well, we both know it has no value to buy back those tears So, no... I'm not sorry Those are someone else's words

0

Nov 1, 2017

Nov 1, 2017 at 2:25 PM UTC

Mimic

"They took my mom off life support" That was how our conversation started My friend cried he never cries... I just stare back at him feeling nothing, but I am crying too My brain is re-enacting an action without meaning copy, paste copy, paste copy, paste We cry together He hugs me and I hug him back I think how hot he feels like a fever of grief His tears are soaking through my shirt, collecting against my skin and sliding down one by one towards my heart I can't feel anything anymore... just him I want to, but I can't... or won't I know I have all the right words filed away for such a situation Cue card apologies Voice recordings in my head on repeat Other peoples words... not mine I'm so sorry I'm so sorry I'm so... I'm not sorry I'm sad for you... yes... that belongs to me that I can say We hug again He feels like a wildfire against my cold exterior I'm so sorry I'm so sorry I'm... tired of all the pretending My feelings are currency without value here so I keep them hidden I'm not sorry I can't be It's not my fault never was Cancer can't be my fault, and my currency well, we both know it has no value to buy back those tears So, no... I'm not sorry Those are someone else's words

44

Don't stop don't think just walk A step at a time Don't look up don't speak eyes down and lifeless Keep moving following walking Don't see the danger don't question it just walk Right off the edge you're one of them now one of us now There's no turning back You're one of the herd now

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Mar 28, 2016

Mar 28, 2016 at 3:09 PM UTC

Sheep march on

Don't stop don't think just walk A step at a time Don't look up don't speak eyes down and lifeless Keep moving following walking Don't see the danger don't question it just walk Right off the edge you're one of them now one of us now There's no turning back You're one of the herd now

18

It's not you... but maybe it is Because you hate them even though they're just like you You mirror them rejecting a reflection that never asked for your opinion Demanding change from things you never even touched upon While standing on your righteous patch of ground You declare that no other could see the world as you do But your eyes are closed... I'm confused by your anger Shouting as street signs for not being trees parking lots that are not meadows people Who just turn away because they think you're insane... Doomsday won't come tomorrow just because you didn't plant as many trees as you took breaths today So slow down please... Take my advice our advice the worlds advice Take it all and just, come down from your ivory tower We can take down the bricks together Plant as many trees as you take breaths in a lifetime If you could just take the time to listen you won't lose everything in translation

0

Mar 28, 2016

Mar 28, 2016 at 3:08 PM UTC

Lost in translation

It's not you... but maybe it is Because you hate them even though they're just like you You mirror them rejecting a reflection that never asked for your opinion Demanding change from things you never even touched upon While standing on your righteous patch of ground You declare that no other could see the world as you do But your eyes are closed... I'm confused by your anger Shouting as street signs for not being trees parking lots that are not meadows people Who just turn away because they think you're insane... Doomsday won't come tomorrow just because you didn't plant as many trees as you took breaths today So slow down please... Take my advice our advice the worlds advice Take it all and just, come down from your ivory tower We can take down the bricks together Plant as many trees as you take breaths in a lifetime If you could just take the time to listen you won't lose everything in translation

26

I'll be gone soon She never said it there was no need dark circles under her eyes said it the way her shoulders bowed under the weight of it sadness that clothed her wrapping itself around every part of her These things did not need to be said She stood there silently with a much smaller woman white hair and hands spotted by age her face lined but soft as the words that flowed from her their hands clasped tightly together heads almost touching May the Lord clothe you in his love so you shall never walk naked or alone May he guide you to your rightful place in heaven and welcome you as he does all his children Her tears began to fall then it seemed there were far to many The train stopped and the women slowly parted though neither spoke there was no need Pray for me her eyes said for soon I'll be gone

0

Aug 29, 2015

Aug 29, 2015 at 11:39 PM UTC

Pray for me

I'll be gone soon She never said it there was no need dark circles under her eyes said it the way her shoulders bowed under the weight of it sadness that clothed her wrapping itself around every part of her These things did not need to be said She stood there silently with a much smaller woman white hair and hands spotted by age her face lined but soft as the words that flowed from her their hands clasped tightly together heads almost touching May the Lord clothe you in his love so you shall never walk naked or alone May he guide you to your rightful place in heaven and welcome you as he does all his children Her tears began to fall then it seemed there were far to many The train stopped and the women slowly parted though neither spoke there was no need Pray for me her eyes said for soon I'll be gone

22

Shrieking bounces off hard walls scattering needle fine it settles on the backs of dull eyed drones they march follow orders lift that move this break now again nothing is spoken communication (if it can be called that) is ear piercing a shrill high pitched demand of sound my skin prickles tense drones march this must go that must stay harpy perches eyes of a scavenger seeking weakness twisted beak juts forward head turns slowly pause, turn, pause, turn relax again keep moving watch it settle never satisfied never happy ugly restless feathered thing looming, waiting... Suddenly Movement Action another victim to late for them though keep moving don't linger even as its shrieking mantra beats against my skull like hail work, work, work harder faster harder if not so loathsome it might be jokingly ****** finally it stops another drone rises eyes dull, lost compliant... is this hell? I need to get out of here...

0

Aug 20, 2015

Aug 20, 2015 at 7:10 PM UTC

Harpy

Shrieking bounces off hard walls scattering needle fine it settles on the backs of dull eyed drones they march follow orders lift that move this break now again nothing is spoken communication (if it can be called that) is ear piercing a shrill high pitched demand of sound my skin prickles tense drones march this must go that must stay harpy perches eyes of a scavenger seeking weakness twisted beak juts forward head turns slowly pause, turn, pause, turn relax again keep moving watch it settle never satisfied never happy ugly restless feathered thing looming, waiting... Suddenly Movement Action another victim to late for them though keep moving don't linger even as its shrieking mantra beats against my skull like hail work, work, work harder faster harder if not so loathsome it might be jokingly ****** finally it stops another drone rises eyes dull, lost compliant... is this hell? I need to get out of here...

49