Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Jim Marchel Sep 2020
We will never forget...

The last day dawns on my life
And I don't know it
As I wake up to golden rays
Of sun knocking on my eyelids.

I kissed my wife good morning,
Got up out of bed
And tucked her in again.
Naomi spent 10 hours last night
Delivering a new mother's firstborn.
I didn't tell her good morning
And I wish I told her I loved her
But I didn't want to wake her.

I sipped my coffee on the way to work
As if it were any other day,
My only worry was if I had spilled any
On the new pink and white
Polka-dot tie my daughter Elise
Had bought me for my birthday
Last weekend
Or the new Bostonian shoes
My wife gave me
With the card that read,
We love you from top to bottom!

I walked into the conference room
And checked my watch:
8:36.
I was 9 minutes early
To the most exciting moment
Of my career:
My first pitch as project manager
For the new country club going up
East of the city in Glenwood Landing.

I was 10 minutes early
To the most helpless moment
Of my life.

At 8:45 I said good morning
To many fine ladies and gentlemen...
Bankers, lawyers, city representatives,
A union boss, some secretaries,
And a stenographer in the back.

The same words I would never again say to my wife and child...

And immediately I was thrown
Through the air
And knocked against the righthand wall
Of the room.
I was utterly confused
And my face burned
From the coffee I had been holding
That now stained
My beautiful polka-dot tie.

It would be nothing compared to the heat I would soon face.

Outside our 111th-story window
Rose an obsidian plume of smoke.
We all knew something terrible
Had happened just a few floors below.

The fine ladies and gentlemen
Of a moment ago
Quickly turned into uncivilized beasts
As the lights went out
And the piercing scream of the fire alarm
Shouted louder than the new mother
Experiencing the pain
Of her first childbirth.

Smoke very quickly came from below
And filled the floor with the foulest odor
I had ever smelled:
Burning rubber, sulfur,
And burnt hair.
Others in the room sealed the door shut
With expensive overcoats and undershirts
From Armani and Burberry.

They tried the phone countless times
But the line was dead.
I looked down at my watch
As a bead of sweat fell from my brow
And landed on my new tie:
9:11.

Today's date.

The fire alarm got tired of yelling
And the room was filled with an
Uncomfortable rumbling sound...

Flames...

...and the hysterical wails of the
Fine ladies and gentlemen in the room.
Some prayed, some wept together,
Others wept alone.
The one thing we all had in common
Was the persistent coughing
From the obsidian smoke
Slicing our lungs.

I looked down at my watch:
9:23.
The heat was now almost unbearable.
We huddled around the window
Jack or John or Jim smashed
With the powerful throw
Of a mini-refigerator.

When I gazed out the window
At the same sun that kissed my eyelids
This morning,
I was calm.
I thought of Naomi, who was
Surely watching on television
As her family called her to make sure
Her and I and Elise were alright.

Daddy's alright, baby girl.

I'm alright, Naoms.

9:31...
Gary or Greg was the first to jump.

I'll make it home to you, angels.

9:32...
Sophia or Cynthia was next.

Please, God, get me out of here...

9:33...
Jack or John or Jim
And Patty or Peggy
Were each other's last hug
As they fell
Like two stars from heaven.

9:35...
I couldn't see
And I couldn't breathe.
The sunlight was the last thing to kiss me.

Before I jumped
I felt my girls.
I touched the tie on my neck
And the shoes on my feet.

I love you both

From top to bottom.
Written 4 years ago, I always repost this on 9/11.

#neverforget
Jan 2020 · 319
Life's Endeavors
Jim Marchel Jan 2020
Why shine
When you could gleam?

Why sleep
When you could dream?

Why cry
When you could weep?

Why chime
When you could sing?

Why fly
When you could soar?

Why try
Life's endeavors?
"Against every great and noble endeavor stand a thousand mediocre minds."

- George S. Robinson
"Envoys of Mankind: A Declaration of First Principles for the Governance of Space Societies"
Sep 2019 · 325
Nicotine
Jim Marchel Sep 2019
You're my nicotine.

Why do I breathe you in

When I know you're no good for me?
I really need to quit smoking...
Jan 2019 · 205
Sleep
Jim Marchel Jan 2019
Sleep is not to be dreaded,
Despised, nor feared,
For it is simply the
Means we were given
To feel the touch of
Intangible faces
And whimsical places.
What would life be like
Without a dream?
Oct 2018 · 210
Jackpot
Jim Marchel Oct 2018
I waited in line at a gas station today
Behind a rowdy crowd of people shouting numbers, throwing hands in the air
And causing a scene
Like an auction gone awry
Just so I could put $30 on pump twelve.
When it was finally my turn at the counter
I heard my phone ring.
I looked at the screen
And saw your name.
I answered
And heard your voice.


I drove away from the pump
With a gallon of milk
And a full tank of gas
And went home to collect my jackpot.
I would have forgotten the milk if she didn't call me, but I love her more than there are dollars in the Mega Millions.
Sep 2018 · 317
From Top to Bottom (Repost)
Jim Marchel Sep 2018
We will never forget...

The last day dawns on my life
And I don't know it
As I wake up to golden rays
Of sun knocking on my eyelids.

I kissed my wife good morning,
Got up out of bed
And tucked her in again.
Naomi spent 10 hours last night
Delivering a new mother's firstborn.
I didn't tell her good morning
And I wish I told her I loved her
But I didn't want to wake her.

I sipped my coffee on the way to work
As if it were any other day,
My only worry was if I had spilled any
On the new pink and white
Polka-dot tie my daughter Elise
Had bought me for my birthday
Last weekend
Or the new Bostonian shoes
My wife gave me
With the card that read,
We love you from top to bottom!

I walked into the conference room
And checked my watch:
8:36.
I was 9 minutes early
To the most exciting moment
Of my career:
My first pitch as project manager
For the new country club going up
East of the city in Glenwood Landing.

I was 10 minutes early
To the most helpless moment
Of my life.

At 8:45 I said good morning
To many fine ladies and gentlemen...
Bankers, lawyers, city representatives,
A union boss, some secretaries,
And a stenographer in the back.

The same words I would never again say to my wife and child...

And immediately I was thrown
Through the air
And knocked against the righthand wall
Of the room.
I was utterly confused
And my face burned
From the coffee I had been holding
That now stained
My beautiful polka-dot tie.

It would be nothing compared to the heat I would soon face.

Outside our 111th-story window
Rose an obsidian plume of smoke.
We all knew something terrible
Had happened just a few floors below.

The fine ladies and gentlemen
Of a moment ago
Quickly turned into uncivilized beasts
As the lights went out
And the piercing scream of the fire alarm
Shouted louder than the new mother
Experiencing the pain
Of her first childbirth.

Smoke very quickly came from below
And filled the floor with the foulest odor
I had ever smelled:
Burning rubber, sulfur,
And burnt hair.
Others in the room sealed the door shut
With expensive overcoats and undershirts
From Armani and Burberry.

They tried the phone countless times
But the line was dead.
I looked down at my watch
As a bead of sweat fell from my brow
And landed on my new tie:
9:11.

Today's date.

The fire alarm got tired of yelling
And the room was filled with an
Uncomfortable rumbling sound...

Flames...

...and the hysterical wails of the
Fine ladies and gentlemen in the room.
Some prayed, some wept together,
Others wept alone.
The one thing we all had in common
Was the persistent coughing
From the obsidian smoke
Slicing our lungs.

I looked down at my watch:
9:23.
The heat was now almost unbearable.
We huddled around the window
Jack or John or Jim smashed
With the powerful throw
Of a mini-refigerator.

When I gazed out the window
At the same sun that kissed my eyelids
This morning,
I was calm.
I thought of Naomi, who was
Surely watching on television
As her family called her to make sure
Her and I and Elise were alright.

Daddy's alright, baby girl.

I'm alright, Naoms.

9:31...
Gary or Greg was the first to jump.

I'll make it home to you, angels.

9:32...
Sophia or Cynthia was next.

Please, God, get me out of here...

9:33...
Jack or John or Jim
And Patty or Peggy
Were each other's last hug
As they fell
Like two stars from heaven.

9:35...
I couldn't see
And I couldn't breathe.
The sunlight was the last thing to kiss me.

Before I jumped
I felt my girls.
I touched the tie on my neck
And the shoes on my feet.

I love you both

From top to bottom.
We will never forget...

Reposted from 2 years ago.
Aug 2018 · 155
Inspiration
Jim Marchel Aug 2018
Inspiration is
A trip to Kilauea
But on a snow day
Dec 2017 · 362
Faith
Jim Marchel Dec 2017
My Lord
You are the Wind in my sails
On the arduous sea
When waves crash and bombard
My sea-soaked skin
And tired soul.

In times of trouble
No storm can subdue my faith
In You;
You are with me,
The Footprints on shore beside me,
The Voice in the gulls that flock
And lead me to spoils.

No force of man
Or circumstance
Will sway my soul
For I am yours.
I pray, O Lord,
My soul to keep,
Please helm my ship
And lay the waters down to sleep.
Jim Marchel Nov 2017
You made me run
When I couldn't walk.
You made me plead
When I couldn't talk.
You made me bleed
And thought it was fun.
You made me freeze
But you were my sun.
Oct 2017 · 233
Solitaire
Jim Marchel Oct 2017
You beg to speak with me, but it is of your own accord that I sit in ignorance to the sound of your voice. The lies and slander never stopped until you needed me. It will be solitude in which I stand; I am here for you no more.
Our games together are over.
Aug 2017 · 564
Silhouettes of Strangers
Jim Marchel Aug 2017
I find my finger tracing silhouettes of strangers

As I tap my foot and stare outside the glass pane in front of me

Onto the street where passersby greet the crisp morning air

With knit scarves and hats and boisterous jackets and saddlebags at the hip,

Ready to ride into town and run out the sheriffs in charge of the show

On West End and Broadway.
|
|
Flurries of snow greet the ground with thunderous applause

As I sip my brew, intertwining fingers with my mug like lovers

And tracing silhouettes of strangers standing at the corner

With my free hand.
|
|
The silent footsteps remind me of the cars at Piccadilly Circus on the first snow of the season,

And how all rhyme and reason belong to silhouettes of strangers that walk past the storefronts and stoplights and billboards and Barclay's

Instead of the steady sound of tires screeching and stopping traffic

In this picturesque place.
|
|
A winter's day in New York is a lot like a winter's day in London;

Silhouettes of strangers are outlined by the fingers of fresh-faced people sipping coffee in a corner café.

They tap their feet and wait for a silhouette to escape the bellowing silence of the snow and the roar of the barren roads.

All they want is to intertwine their fingers with another,

Instead of a lukewarm mug.
Jul 2017 · 521
Will
Jim Marchel Jul 2017
A river runs
While a lake stands still
And the mountains eclipse and make dwarves of the hills.
The meadow blooms,
The flowers swoon
As the sunlight of day paves a path for the moon.
As I lie here alone in a desolate state
Immersed in my senses but unfit to relate,
I can't help but notice I'm incredibly small
Surrounded by beauty and grandeur and all.
No friends to console me except the whistling pines,
No one to reach out and hold me
But the wheatgrass feels fine.
When I speak
My words fall like anchors in the sea;
The little waves of the lake that hear them
Shake their heads in disbelief.
The only truth I now hold to heart
Is that oftentimes life takes us back to the start.
A river runs
While a lake stands still
And the mountains are eclipsed by
My power of will.
Jun 2017 · 584
The Carpenter
Jim Marchel Jun 2017
"I'm full of holes and sinking fast," she said as she told me she needed new faces and a fresh start. She thought what we had between us was irreparable, and by human standards she was right.

In my naiveté, I tried to patch and fill them with imperfect hands and carnal substance.

With temporal eyes, we couldn't see that the many "holes" she thought she had was just a single void, and I was trying to do the job of the Carpenter.
"For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you through his poverty might become rich."

- 2 Corinthians 8:9
Jun 2017 · 860
Angel in Disguise
Jim Marchel Jun 2017
Remember when we talked about angels
Under the sunless sky so dark
It was as if we were the only two sparks left in the world?

Do you remember when we wondered
If they took on life just to walk next to us down the street,
Or to sit down next to us when we cry away our pain
Over a lukewarm cup of coffee?

Do you remember how you felt that night
When you laughed with conviction
And wiped tears from your eyes
Because you were absolutely certain
God sent you an angel in disguise?
Why do we so often take our greatest testimonies and misconstrue them as circumstance? I can only imagine this question is exactly why God sends us angels in the first place.
May 2017 · 279
One Night of Anger
Jim Marchel May 2017
I stopped at a red light
And heard

I waited in the checkout line
And heard

I walked the dog along a sidewalk with weeds in the cracks
And heard

I made tomorrow's lunch for work
And heard

I laid sprawled out on my bed
And heard

Sirens
Horns
Gunshots
Ringing
Screaming


One night of anger.
Don't give your heart to anger. It controls everything we do.
Apr 2017 · 326
How Can I Love
Jim Marchel Apr 2017
How can I love
When my coffee *** is only half full
Because you're not here anymore
To smile with me every morning?

How can I love
When I still find your hair in my car
And can't bear to throw it away
Because it's the only piece of you I have left?

How can I love
When the same sun warms our faces
But you're not here for me to cool
Your lips with an iced tea kiss?

How can I love
When my coffee *** is only half full
Because I didn't make enough for three
When I called off work without a warning?
"I've made the bed, now go and sleep with him."
Mar 2017 · 553
In My Bed
Jim Marchel Mar 2017
I wanted it to be you
I bled for it to be you
I prayed for it to be you
But there was always someone else
In my bed
Feb 2017 · 244
Love Letters
Jim Marchel Feb 2017
I like letters better
When they're rearranged
Into your name
The best love letters write themselves.
Jim Marchel Jan 2017
The wind whispered softly along
As if not to bother the sleeping child in its cradle,
The angry trees about to lose their beauty,
And the neighborhood paperboy on his bicycle with his scarf wrapped tightly around his face.

The wind caressed the crystal flakes that fell from the heavens
As if to console the father whose son was sacrificed in distant war,
The daughter who was destined to walk the aisle without a father,
And the excited mother-to-be whose child was stillborn after months of tender love and care.

The wind calmly strolled down 8th Street
Where the early workers stood in line for a bagel and brew,
Where children gathered near the corner filled with vigor and youth,
Where tall giants of steel and stone shone with haughty pride and modern couth.

The wind whispered softly along
The curves and wrinkles of my face
As my life forever changed,
But it was just another day
To the wind.
Jan 2017 · 432
Black and White
Jim Marchel Jan 2017
Go back to your black-and-white world

Void of color and warmth

And of depth and of passion.

Go ahead and crawl back behind

Pages of guilt and chapters of pain.

Hide your face with the cover

Of the latest Roth novel

And forget that color and fragrence

And feelings and senses

Exist.
This is a follow-up to a poem about color I wrote previously, "What Friends Are For". It's a personal piece, about a former friend who is color-blind who really took me for granted, especially after I invested in glasses for him to be able to see the world in color. It gave me a new perspective on cliché proverbs already floating around, but this one is mine: Not everyone will be able to see the color you bring into their lives, but that doesn't mean you aren't a colorful being.
Jan 2017 · 530
Walls
Jim Marchel Jan 2017
I stare at walls and see her there

A flower-printed love affair

Her azure-striped and plastered hair

Are cracked but perfect, everywhere.

Her skin of beige, it ripples soft

Across my palms when I get lost

I feel her smooth and supple skin

When I can't think and need to sin.

But here is now, and now is then

I'm staring at my walls again

Each one reminds me of the face

Of fallen angels barred from grace.
I see her in my head
I see her on my walls.
Jan 2017 · 1.9k
Footprints
Jim Marchel Jan 2017
There is a big difference
Between leaving behind cold tracks
In the snow
And lending a warm hand to lead.
Don't just be a footprint in someone's life when you have the power to be so much more.
Dec 2016 · 904
The Perfect Puzzle
Jim Marchel Dec 2016
God made her

The perfect puzzle.

I could never make her whole

Because she gave away

All her pretty pieces

To someone else.
"And even if we come home empty handed, we'll still have our stories..."
"So Long, Astoria" - The Ataris
Dec 2016 · 897
My Love, the Ocean
Jim Marchel Dec 2016
You had a mind like a diamond

And eyes like the ocean,

Where even the most seasoned sailor

Could get lost.

Why did your waters wane?

Will you or I ever be the same?


What happened to your ocean eyes,

The ebb and flow of moonlit tides

That danced with me along the shore

But now are suddenly no more?
The sea is beauty
The sea is deadly
Nov 2016 · 662
A Letter to Her
Jim Marchel Nov 2016
To the one whose hand I never held:

Thank you for letting me hold your heart instead, even when I didn't take care of it like it should.

To the one who called me brother and best friend, but never lover:

Thank you for making me part of your family when I didn't have a place to go.

To the one whose trust I shattered:

I'm sorry I took you for granted and hurt you when you made me smile.

To the one whose lips I never kissed:

Thank you for letting me love you
Even though you never loved me back
.
Nov 2016 · 577
Valediction
Jim Marchel Nov 2016
When my feet touch the grass

In the place I call home,

My reception will not be that at all,

But a valediction.
A poem for my brothers and sisters I serve with. This place will never leave my heart, no matter how hard I try to tear the two apart.
Oct 2016 · 210
Eyes
Jim Marchel Oct 2016
I had eyes for only her

*But her eyes only saw the world.
I saw more in her than a hundred worlds over.
Jim Marchel Oct 2016
"...You're my direction when I'm lost, but I'm never alone with the love that we've grown.

How incredible is this view? Its not the beautiful scenery, it's the beautiful you."
When I'm lost and don't know which way to go, I remember I'm always found in you.
Jim Marchel Oct 2016
Every day I spend with you is the best day of my life.
Wrote a piece a while back and thought it'd be better in parts than a standalone.
Jim Marchel Sep 2016
"I don't know what you possibly see
Underneath the *****, thick skin
That's cut and bruised and scarred
From the things I've done to myself
And from what a few others carved into
The arms of the man I call 'Me'...

...I roll up my sleeves and I take
A piece of you from off the floor
And I try my best to fold it up
With the same care my mother had
When she used to clean the stains
From my favorite shirt without mistake...

...We're both soldiers in the same war
But we're standing on opposite sides,
Which doesn't make sense to me because
We have the same *****, thick skin
That's cut and bruised and scarred
And I know you're the one worth fighting for..."
Love can be salvaged from *****, broken things.
Jim Marchel Sep 2016
Every day I spend with you is a reassurance.
I've never been as sure as anything else in this world. You become more and more incredible as days together turn to months, and eventually years. You went from gorgeous to drop-dead gorgeous the first time you took my breath away, but your warming embrace brought me back to life.
Wrote a piece a while back and thought it'd be better in parts than a standalone.
Jim Marchel Sep 2016
I was never
A demanding man
Or a smothering being.
I was never
A shameful soul
Or a jealous person.

...that is, until us.

I was never
Your ruler
Or the breeze that took
Your breath away.
I was never
Some cruel cur
And I was never
The one to question
Who you were with
Or where you were.

Love brings out the best
In a few of us
And it makes a huge mess
Of the rest of us.
I was never the one
To pick up a gun
And put holes in the heart
I had promised to love.
"(Love) does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs."
-1 Corinthians 13:5

I suppose this means I don't love her anymore.
Jim Marchel Sep 2016
Every day I spend with you is a song.
High notes mixed with low to create a melody, and it's the sweetest thing I've ever heard. You're my favorite genre, soothing my spirit with a single word. Life's a performance of talent and grace whenever you're in the room.
Wrote a piece a while back and thought it'd be better in parts than a standalone.
Sep 2016 · 385
The Difference Between Us
Jim Marchel Sep 2016
I laid my ghosts to rest

You invited yours to bed
This is why we'll never work.
Sep 2016 · 376
Together
Jim Marchel Sep 2016
I was in the middle of writing
Then you called and we started fighting.
Words on the tip of my pen were flowing with
The unspoken affection my mouth could never speak.
Your blue eyes and smile...God why did you dial my number this late anyway?
You say you're concerned and I just can't understand why I fan the flames that are out to burn and destroy what took so long for us to create together.

Together.

Together we're better than this.
Together we laugh at things normal people find boring, and we listen to the sounds normal people ignore.
Together we go places normal people fear to tread, and we keep each other's heads above the waves.
And here we are, sinking the same ship we built together.

If only the same words that trickle from the tip of my pen late at night would reach my lips
I would be able to tell you I can't think of anyone else I'd rather plan out the perfect crime with,
I can't think of another person I'd rather spend nights building forts and making faces with like we're kids, and
I can't imagine knowing another girl the way I know you.
A poetic description of an argument I once had with the woman I loved.
Jim Marchel Sep 2016
Every day I spend with you is a puzzle.
Dozens of pieces scattered around in a jumbled mess, but with you it all comes together and makes sense. The pictures we create together are unforgettable and will stay with me forever.
Wrote a piece a while back and thought it'd be better in parts than a standalone.
Jim Marchel Sep 2016
"...Love is more like war than a rose.
They are both deceptively beautiful,
But love spills more than just
One drop of blood when it gets mishandled.
And unlike a flower, love is resilient.
It takes more than a few ****** battles
Fought deep in muddy trenches
To break the bond between two soldiers.
Against all odds, love finds ways to survive
Even the most disparaging circumstances..."
War has no place in love.
Jim Marchel Sep 2016
Every day I spend with you is a lesson learned.
I'm the C student that can never grasp anything, but you never give up on me.
You prepare me for all the tests life has in store and because of you I ace them all.
Wrote a piece a while back and thought it'd be better in parts than a standalone.
Jim Marchel Sep 2016
Every day I spend with you is an adventure.
Sitting still next to you on the couch feels like I'm going a hundred on an open stretch of road in the middle of nowhere, beautiful scenery all around but the perfect view is the girl with me when I glance over my shoulder.
Wrote a piece a while back and thought it'd be better in parts than a standalone.
Sep 2016 · 769
Redundancy
Jim Marchel Sep 2016
One is none
And two is one.
Survival is redundant
And so is love.
"One is none and two is one" is a basic concept outlining the importance of redundancy in our lives. It can be applied to almost every circumstance, from wilderness survival to a day's work at the office.

Love becomes redundant when two people bring the same thing to the table...It's like when more than one person brings cole slaw to a barbecue.
Sep 2016 · 469
Open
Jim Marchel Sep 2016
Open, overlooked,
Yet obliviously
I love.
Just a thought that wandered into mind.
Sep 2016 · 426
My Block
Jim Marchel Sep 2016
I've been sitting here
Beneath the embers
Of the streetlamp
Waiting for you
In plain sight

But you never walk down
My shanty block.
She's looking for me in everyone else
But she'll never find me.
Sep 2016 · 924
Burning Bridges (A Rant)
Jim Marchel Sep 2016
When you give someone or something up, it doesn't mean to put it/them on the proverbial shelf to look at every now and then when things get boring.

It doesn't mean you should keep them in the background of your life so you can wander out to them when there's nothing going on in the foreground.

There's nothing uncivil about removing people or things from your life.

I'm not going to give any more of my attention to certain people and all the vices of my past.

Holding onto a piece of them builds the bridge to bring them into my present, and I don't have time to be tempted or distracted from the things that matter to me the most.

If that's cruel, so be it. Some bridges are meant to be burned.
Always keep your focus. Never fear commitment.
Sep 2016 · 1.4k
My Sunrise (A Similie)
Jim Marchel Sep 2016
You're the first person I think about when I wake up from my dreams.

Like the sun warms the earth, you warm my skin.

Like the birds sing to the waking world, your tired voice tugs a string in my heart that makes me smile.

Like the smell of freshly baked bread, you're the pleasant aroma that makes my mouth water and leaves me wanting more of you.

Like the color of the sky at dawn, you make me glad that God made you so beautiful, without flaw.

You're my sanity.
You're my saving grace.
You're my answer.
You're my angel.
You're my reason.
You're my revival.
You're my best friend.
You're my better half.

*You're so much more than the woman of my dreams.
There's nothing I wouldn't do
To wake up every morning next to you.
Sep 2016 · 1.3k
Grounded
Jim Marchel Sep 2016
You keep me grounded like a tree
Your roots, they nourish and bind me
To this plot of earth on which I stand
You're worth more than every grain of sand
Love can't grow in barren soil.
Sep 2016 · 310
Deplorable
Jim Marchel Sep 2016
How can somebody who doesn't know me
Define me?
Wolves don't lose sleep over the opinions of sheep.
Sep 2016 · 1.8k
Admiration and Love
Jim Marchel Sep 2016
She sits in the stands
Up in the nosebleed section
Cheering wildly, admiring her boys
In red and white
While he is under her hood
With soot-covered hands
Making sense of and fixing
Her mechanical mess.

Later on, she makes his favorite meal
To show him how much she loves him
But he shows up with takeout
And complains about how long it took
Just to replace the starter
In her red Corolla.

There's a difference between
Admiration
And love.
Love is wasted in admiration.
Sep 2016 · 1.1k
With or Without You
Jim Marchel Sep 2016
If you want to go fast, go alone.
If you want to go far, go together.

-
African Proverb*

I can't visualize what life would be like
Without you.
I will never awaken to such an aimless love
Without you.
I will never show the buttercup's glow
Without you.

I cannot love
Without you,
But I will never love you.
Bring a buttercup to your chin;
Legend has it,
If it glows yellow
You love butter.

What is the target
Of aimless love?

"Aimless Love" is a book of poetry by Billy Collins, former Poet Laureate of the United States. This poem was inspired by his work, which is in a class of it's own.
Sep 2016 · 473
Her Bedtime Story
Jim Marchel Sep 2016
Before she goes to sleep at night
She puts a noose around her neck
To give herself a reason to stop
Tossing and turning and thinking
About the last time she
Was safe in her own skin.

Instead of tucking herself in
Under blanket and quilt
She tucks a knife into her chest
To remind herself of her guilt
And her shame and the pain
She faces at the dawn
Of each new day.

She threw her pillow in the trash
Because comfort wasn't something
She thought belonged in her life.
Now she rests her head
On a loaded Sig .40
And finds solace in the touch
Of cold steel against her cheek.

She always said she couldn't sleep
And now *she can't stop.
"Wake up the dawn and ask her why
A dreamer dreams she never dies"

"Champagne Supernova" - Oasis
Sep 2016 · 915
Wake Up
Jim Marchel Sep 2016
I'm reaching for stars
With my head in the sand
And I'm swimming in currents
While I'm standing on land
If you're hearing this now
And you think I'm confused
Then it's pretty apparent
You've never been used

Tracing lines on the pavement
Of this bustling town
And he only sound that I hear
Is my soul screaming out
Now I'm stuck here in a place
Where no one else cares
So I'm launching my rocket
And blowing up in mid-air

You say you're a dreamer
At least that's what I heard
From the haze in your eyes
That's as good as your word
Please wake up, my dear
Don't be playing with knives
If you call yourself a dreamer
You'll be sleeping all your life
"It's funny how the words we never say
Can turn into the only thoughts we know"

"Restless Dream" - Jack's Mannequin
Next page