strangerstill - Hello Poetry

i've been immersing myself in films to escape the present but (disney's "Hercules" reminds me of you i watched it three times this week just to catch glimpses of you ten minutes into "Captain America" a mix of salt and water created streams on my cheeks accompanied by silent sobs how could a fictional character so beautifully capture your essence?) it seems i've managed to trap myself in my past that is you

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May 3, 2014

May 3, 2014 at 1:33 AM UTC

trapped in the past (you)

i've been immersing myself in films to escape the present but (disney's "Hercules" reminds me of you i watched it three times this week just to catch glimpses of you ten minutes into "Captain America" a mix of salt and water created streams on my cheeks accompanied by silent sobs how could a fictional character so beautifully capture your essence?) it seems i've managed to trap myself in my past that is you

17

"have a unique morning!" the train conductor announces after each stop thank you showing such cheerfulness but no thanks i haven't slept in over 24 hours spent them chugging out an essay worth 40% of my grade another worth 20 my printer was especially uncooperative my bus was 20 minutes late and now I'm holding back anxious tears how many points does he take off for late papers again? 5 10 15? thank you, sir. but no thanks my morning is unique enough to last me about 5 weeks

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May 1, 2014

May 1, 2014 at 9:57 AM UTC

have a unique morning

"have a unique morning!" the train conductor announces after each stop thank you showing such cheerfulness but no thanks i haven't slept in over 24 hours spent them chugging out an essay worth 40% of my grade another worth 20 my printer was especially uncooperative my bus was 20 minutes late and now I'm holding back anxious tears how many points does he take off for late papers again? 5 10 15? thank you, sir. but no thanks my morning is unique enough to last me about 5 weeks

18

(1994-) perhaps (1994-2012) is more accurate but our world quantifies our lives by the number of heart beats of inhale-exhales so let me ask you this, World: you can revive my heart with electric shocks force air into my collapsing lungs, but what can you do for my soul? nothing and so i claim the right to write: (1994-2012)

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Apr 27, 2014

Apr 27, 2014 at 9:24 PM UTC

(1994-2012)

(1994-) perhaps (1994-2012) is more accurate but our world quantifies our lives by the number of heart beats of inhale-exhales so let me ask you this, World: you can revive my heart with electric shocks force air into my collapsing lungs, but what can you do for my soul? nothing and so i claim the right to write: (1994-2012)

14

someday maybe today tomorrow fifty years from now this collection of poems will cease to grow when such a day arrives will someone please sign me off but first: (1994-20XX)

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Apr 27, 2014

Apr 27, 2014 at 6:24 PM UTC

(1994-20XX)

someday maybe today tomorrow fifty years from now this collection of poems will cease to grow when such a day arrives will someone please sign me off but first: (1994-20XX)

9

There is a town by the name of Betuty. Many do quite envy, For it is what they cannot be: A beacon upon a hill for all to see. Colorful houses, none too plain. Never even a drop of rain. Yet all the harvests do go well, As if under a spell. I do not envy it. It is a frightful place to be. Its’ citizens dance around a fire screeching and laughing as they go. Many times there are echoing screams, of people like me when caught lingering. Watching. I cannot seem to get enough. The night is my cape a bush my refuge. A misstep. A broken twig. They notice. She knows too much. I run and run and run from this town named Betuty. I promise myself to never come back. I never leave.

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Apr 25, 2014

Apr 25, 2014 at 6:17 PM UTC

Betuty

There is a town by the name of Betuty. Many do quite envy, For it is what they cannot be: A beacon upon a hill for all to see. Colorful houses, none too plain. Never even a drop of rain. Yet all the harvests do go well, As if under a spell. I do not envy it. It is a frightful place to be. Its’ citizens dance around a fire screeching and laughing as they go. Many times there are echoing screams, of people like me when caught lingering. Watching. I cannot seem to get enough. The night is my cape a bush my refuge. A misstep. A broken twig. They notice. She knows too much. I run and run and run from this town named Betuty. I promise myself to never come back. I never leave.

27

"i'm not a poet" i grinned sheepishly, in apology, and refused to meet his gaze "i know, jo. no one here is. just give us a metaphor for love" irritated i complied, spewed out cliched nonsense he chose his next victim but you see, professor, i don't think you understood beyond the exterior of (unintentional) rebellious sarcasm with four words, i was telling you "i am no wordsmith i cannot beautify my pain create meaning from this chaotic mess of a world i do not know love death, tragedy, true loss" now, do you see? "i'm not a poet"

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Apr 25, 2014

Apr 25, 2014 at 5:23 PM UTC

not a poet

"i'm not a poet" i grinned sheepishly, in apology, and refused to meet his gaze "i know, jo. no one here is. just give us a metaphor for love" irritated i complied, spewed out cliched nonsense he chose his next victim but you see, professor, i don't think you understood beyond the exterior of (unintentional) rebellious sarcasm with four words, i was telling you "i am no wordsmith i cannot beautify my pain create meaning from this chaotic mess of a world i do not know love death, tragedy, true loss" now, do you see? "i'm not a poet"

16

you once told me why birds bless us with an early warning of morning it's been so long, i've forgotten when i hear the birds in the morning, i still think of you

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Apr 25, 2014

Apr 25, 2014 at 3:41 PM UTC

birds in the morning (remind me of you)

you once told me why birds bless us with an early warning of morning it's been so long, i've forgotten when i hear the birds in the morning, i still think of you

3

I know a sadness so consuming, I am left empty She thrusts herself into the pit of your stomach, the tips of your fingers Claws her way into your mind stupid useless ugly unloved She is the broken record player on which these inner-devils are played She is the inevitable darkness that spoils your soul The black tar that contaminates all those you touch You have become her You are now the constant burden your mother carries on her back (You've already sacrificed too much for me) The ice-cold shoulder that saddens your ailing father (You deserve a better daughter) The anxious palpitations of your little sister's heart (I'm supposed to be your protector) I'm so sorry

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Apr 24, 2014

Apr 24, 2014 at 9:44 PM UTC

She

I know a sadness so consuming, I am left empty She thrusts herself into the pit of your stomach, the tips of your fingers Claws her way into your mind stupid useless ugly unloved She is the broken record player on which these inner-devils are played She is the inevitable darkness that spoils your soul The black tar that contaminates all those you touch You have become her You are now the constant burden your mother carries on her back (You've already sacrificed too much for me) The ice-cold shoulder that saddens your ailing father (You deserve a better daughter) The anxious palpitations of your little sister's heart (I'm supposed to be your protector) I'm so sorry

15

Horrified by my reflection: A cynical, disillusioned idealist Horrified, Indifferent You were a Silly boy Spouting nonsense of hope and humanity Silly Boy Your sun-kissed caramel eyes cannot move me I am stone Your goofy grin cannot give me hope I am empty Your eruptive, childish laugh will not change me Stunned It echoes through my being, Infectious This smile is easy Chocolate brown orbs meet honey-hued ones Hopelessness meets hope Tarnished meets pure Silly Boy Your better tomorrow doesn't seem so "silly" anymore For, if the world has produced such beauty in you Surely, it cannot be so bad For, if there exists a beauty that can melt this frozen heart, Surely, there must be hope

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Apr 24, 2014

Apr 24, 2014 at 12:41 AM UTC

Silly Boy

Horrified by my reflection: A cynical, disillusioned idealist Horrified, Indifferent You were a Silly boy Spouting nonsense of hope and humanity Silly Boy Your sun-kissed caramel eyes cannot move me I am stone Your goofy grin cannot give me hope I am empty Your eruptive, childish laugh will not change me Stunned It echoes through my being, Infectious This smile is easy Chocolate brown orbs meet honey-hued ones Hopelessness meets hope Tarnished meets pure Silly Boy Your better tomorrow doesn't seem so "silly" anymore For, if the world has produced such beauty in you Surely, it cannot be so bad For, if there exists a beauty that can melt this frozen heart, Surely, there must be hope

26