theboy - Hello Poetry

Feeling fond of my own two feet I lock the bike, let the wind cool the heat I'm the one with the illegible handwriting writing, nonetheless, on the porch sustained by cigarettes and self doubt for how else do I know that I'm sane? Thoughts on the page, a tricky task ink implying some permanence if I write it it is at least on this page unnervingly nervous, even at the most receptive times the thoughts have a path, but can you draw the line? only one will fit, not two if you find it or not isn't my concern it isn't my concern at all But still it feels good to let words fall flat on the page, flat on their face exposed for what they've been all along just words, good words bad words just words, no overarching ideas archetypes cast upon sounds and letters I wonder if I'll be able to read this certain bits may become muddled but by how much less, I'm sure, than by the reader hello reader, yes you. yes me. I don't address you often enough, but it's certainly you and no one else that brings me to life, back to life These flat ideas, shadows of flatter ideals toes dipped in self doubt, but only dipped should we submerge them, or is that too much. putting the pen down never feels whole maybe it's because I rarely write about anything anymore **** it, goodbye, till next time, my dear

0

Jul 20, 2015

Jul 20, 2015 at 1:41 AM UTC

disrobed

Feeling fond of my own two feet I lock the bike, let the wind cool the heat I'm the one with the illegible handwriting writing, nonetheless, on the porch sustained by cigarettes and self doubt for how else do I know that I'm sane? Thoughts on the page, a tricky task ink implying some permanence if I write it it is at least on this page unnervingly nervous, even at the most receptive times the thoughts have a path, but can you draw the line? only one will fit, not two if you find it or not isn't my concern it isn't my concern at all But still it feels good to let words fall flat on the page, flat on their face exposed for what they've been all along just words, good words bad words just words, no overarching ideas archetypes cast upon sounds and letters I wonder if I'll be able to read this certain bits may become muddled but by how much less, I'm sure, than by the reader hello reader, yes you. yes me. I don't address you often enough, but it's certainly you and no one else that brings me to life, back to life These flat ideas, shadows of flatter ideals toes dipped in self doubt, but only dipped should we submerge them, or is that too much. putting the pen down never feels whole maybe it's because I rarely write about anything anymore **** it, goodbye, till next time, my dear

36

A place of many things and a very changeable boy and therefor, a great number of days The navel gazer himself liable to start each line with an "and" is nothing its own? each face like the last each tree, holding hands underground with all others he's encountered that day each song, sung just for him just for that moment You are no culmination no stress point, no break point where do you find the ability to perceive each stimulus as a reflective surface the rain exists only to keep you in and the sunshine, just to beckon you out the wind to cool your brow and the four walls just to keep you safe The world wouldn't steal your bike in the rain because it does not notice you accept your place as a footnote but don't accept that footnote's place don't let others write your 15 minutes not of fame, but existence DON'T SPEND LIFE ON YOUR HEELS

0

Jul 20, 2015

Jul 20, 2015 at 1:32 AM UTC

Untitled

A place of many things and a very changeable boy and therefor, a great number of days The navel gazer himself liable to start each line with an "and" is nothing its own? each face like the last each tree, holding hands underground with all others he's encountered that day each song, sung just for him just for that moment You are no culmination no stress point, no break point where do you find the ability to perceive each stimulus as a reflective surface the rain exists only to keep you in and the sunshine, just to beckon you out the wind to cool your brow and the four walls just to keep you safe The world wouldn't steal your bike in the rain because it does not notice you accept your place as a footnote but don't accept that footnote's place don't let others write your 15 minutes not of fame, but existence DON'T SPEND LIFE ON YOUR HEELS

26

I find myself here again, the place after the ride, the drive, the walk, the run I know this is the place because I see a man, stopped in a car he drives away when my gaze meets his as men in cars should So I fill the position he vacates I stop my (bike) and I am here the (corner) of the (streets) with the (sidewalk) and the (flowers) and the unimportant coordinates less important, even, than the (layers of stones) fencing the (yard) But I am here, I brought myself here not to get away from anything, but wholly to get away

0

Jul 20, 2015

Jul 20, 2015 at 1:25 AM UTC

here

I find myself here again, the place after the ride, the drive, the walk, the run I know this is the place because I see a man, stopped in a car he drives away when my gaze meets his as men in cars should So I fill the position he vacates I stop my (bike) and I am here the (corner) of the (streets) with the (sidewalk) and the (flowers) and the unimportant coordinates less important, even, than the (layers of stones) fencing the (yard) But I am here, I brought myself here not to get away from anything, but wholly to get away

17

I step into my childhood room a long held breath, of which i was unaware, escapes my lips i've only been home a few hours, was drawn by my loved ones away from this place this place that is so sacred to me so missing in my life its clutter of luxury its clutter of history the things and memories that built my character the things i once found important enough to keep nooks and crannies, drawers and geometry closed space, owned space, locked space full of secrets long declared irrelevant personal achievements tacked to the walls ribbons, creations on surfaces interests displayed, magazine cutouts all these things echo Along with these, foreign artifacts, added by mistake what seems the piece of another entering my chapter but isn't the heart of my kin my heart? aren't the closets down the hall bearing my signature as well? how unknown can these additions be, introduced in my presence or my absence? we see our blood most clearly away from the vein

0

Jul 8, 2015

Jul 8, 2015 at 5:24 PM UTC

~

I step into my childhood room a long held breath, of which i was unaware, escapes my lips i've only been home a few hours, was drawn by my loved ones away from this place this place that is so sacred to me so missing in my life its clutter of luxury its clutter of history the things and memories that built my character the things i once found important enough to keep nooks and crannies, drawers and geometry closed space, owned space, locked space full of secrets long declared irrelevant personal achievements tacked to the walls ribbons, creations on surfaces interests displayed, magazine cutouts all these things echo Along with these, foreign artifacts, added by mistake what seems the piece of another entering my chapter but isn't the heart of my kin my heart? aren't the closets down the hall bearing my signature as well? how unknown can these additions be, introduced in my presence or my absence? we see our blood most clearly away from the vein

26

• Old dresser drawers reopened • silly, simple T-shirts back in style • confusion of how the last 5 years of fashion • abandoned honesty and compassion, straightforward presentation • he swims into the swatch • it fits perfectly, but what to wear with it? • total mystery; his sleek, **** jeans? • his soft, comfortable shorts? • maybe this would be easier if • he owned less costumes • silently noting that nudists • likely feel quite comfortable in T-shirts • shuddering @ the thought of such vulnerability • he sorts through another stack • faded reds dredging long drowned days • eyes closed, sun bleeding crimson, thoughts lofty • wondering what the sneakers he used to wear • really said • long sigh, less than hopeful • but these things are cyclical, you know • what goes, eventually comes • old pictures always met with "what was I thinking" • with fashion, you never can be sure, not even later • besides, one day you'll just wear a suit, so be simple now

0

Jun 27, 2015

Jun 27, 2015 at 8:44 PM UTC

19

• Old dresser drawers reopened • silly, simple T-shirts back in style • confusion of how the last 5 years of fashion • abandoned honesty and compassion, straightforward presentation • he swims into the swatch • it fits perfectly, but what to wear with it? • total mystery; his sleek, **** jeans? • his soft, comfortable shorts? • maybe this would be easier if • he owned less costumes • silently noting that nudists • likely feel quite comfortable in T-shirts • shuddering @ the thought of such vulnerability • he sorts through another stack • faded reds dredging long drowned days • eyes closed, sun bleeding crimson, thoughts lofty • wondering what the sneakers he used to wear • really said • long sigh, less than hopeful • but these things are cyclical, you know • what goes, eventually comes • old pictures always met with "what was I thinking" • with fashion, you never can be sure, not even later • besides, one day you'll just wear a suit, so be simple now

24

pulling drops into my infinite ocean of mortality through a cotton filter the cost is clear and true but out of mind for out of sight pouring buckets into her dark opaque lake container inscribed "I love you" this habit's cost never will I face out of sight out of mind I walk into the rain-forest and I scream "I guess I'm more human than I thought" taking souvenirs dropping Kodak moments I wish to forget out of sight

0

Jun 20, 2015

Jun 20, 2015 at 8:28 PM UTC

6/1_?

pulling drops into my infinite ocean of mortality through a cotton filter the cost is clear and true but out of mind for out of sight pouring buckets into her dark opaque lake container inscribed "I love you" this habit's cost never will I face out of sight out of mind I walk into the rain-forest and I scream "I guess I'm more human than I thought" taking souvenirs dropping Kodak moments I wish to forget out of sight

24

wind buffets my body cigarette between fingers lighter clutched in right hand, hammock holds brilliant blue skies open copy of neil gainman's gods american paradise drunk but not confused, I create still handwriting large but neat no, not so mess contains beauty yet i doubt power of words due to overwhelming fuzziness just a break life goes on separate from me aqua flip flop, walk down beaches, now peaceful life missing still what I lost every day save this one here I used to live in this paradise ("paradise") plastic life aqua is the color of paradise

0

Jun 20, 2015

Jun 20, 2015 at 8:20 PM UTC

6/11

wind buffets my body cigarette between fingers lighter clutched in right hand, hammock holds brilliant blue skies open copy of neil gainman's gods american paradise drunk but not confused, I create still handwriting large but neat no, not so mess contains beauty yet i doubt power of words due to overwhelming fuzziness just a break life goes on separate from me aqua flip flop, walk down beaches, now peaceful life missing still what I lost every day save this one here I used to live in this paradise ("paradise") plastic life aqua is the color of paradise

42

sickly, sticky, sweaty this humidity houses me contains comfort in its slowly shifting drafts of moisture oh a summer evening it's been raining all day the best way the on again off again torrential downpours nature's attempts to purge a fresh start once more but as the rain departs it leaves dark traces some of what it carried left behind, once more

0

Jun 8, 2015

Jun 8, 2015 at 12:45 AM UTC

6/7

sickly, sticky, sweaty this humidity houses me contains comfort in its slowly shifting drafts of moisture oh a summer evening it's been raining all day the best way the on again off again torrential downpours nature's attempts to purge a fresh start once more but as the rain departs it leaves dark traces some of what it carried left behind, once more

16

this sound is surrounding these voices abounding my sanctuary has walls paper thin between its halls grating, chipping slowly sifting the sands of time through my unwilling mind stress is quickly rising paranoia hiding behind this smile I would run for miles thoughts escaping noises ****** inner peace stop it please muscles twitching fingers gripping dark sheets hard, please stop the noise save my health just a boy with no-one else

0

Jun 1, 2015

Jun 1, 2015 at 12:40 AM UTC

descent

this sound is surrounding these voices abounding my sanctuary has walls paper thin between its halls grating, chipping slowly sifting the sands of time through my unwilling mind stress is quickly rising paranoia hiding behind this smile I would run for miles thoughts escaping noises ****** inner peace stop it please muscles twitching fingers gripping dark sheets hard, please stop the noise save my health just a boy with no-one else

28

No, I'm not paranoid and I don't like that look you're giving me I've told you a hundred times Its not possession I seek a fragile flower I don't want to suffocate you fold your beautiful petals and stick you in my pocket but it makes me sick right to my stomach to think of you blooming in anyone else's garden I care because I care Even if you don't see besides, the little green monster hails from the heart, not the head

0

May 31, 2015

May 31, 2015 at 3:36 PM UTC

something old and stale

No, I'm not paranoid and I don't like that look you're giving me I've told you a hundred times Its not possession I seek a fragile flower I don't want to suffocate you fold your beautiful petals and stick you in my pocket but it makes me sick right to my stomach to think of you blooming in anyone else's garden I care because I care Even if you don't see besides, the little green monster hails from the heart, not the head

16