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distractedpen May 2019
Don’t wipe the sleep from my eyes
Let me phase through the day
In a spearmint haze
Unfocused and unaffected
Lost within the loaves of thoughts
That rise and form forests around me
Cotton clouds on my eyes
“Oh I didn’t notice”
Starch stuffs my ears
“What’d you say?”
Blankets bathe my skin
But sometimes I just ignore
Leave me here
Where I’m comfortable and unbothered
I’m sleepy and thus saved
distractedpen Apr 2019
sometimes a haiku
is all that you really need
to get through your day

but sometimes it's not
and i'm finding more and more
that i often need more syllables
more space than just a simple five-seven-five
to really express what i'm thinking
to express what i'm feeling
get my point across

i find myself trapped
by the very same thing that
used to help me keep

pace
initially i was going to write a haiku. then i realized that i had more to say, so i played around with odd number (5, 7, 9, 11) syllabled lines to express that feeling
distractedpen Apr 2019
you and i were running laps
i in blue sneakers, you in red
just a friendly competition
i had a bad limp
i was keeping pace with you
i drew attention to my leg
how i fought not to wince
every time my foot hit the gravel
how i’d been kicked
by someone wearing red sneakers
right before we began
it made you uncomfortable
defensive
angry
and you pointed to your leg
showing a similar bruise
from when you’d tripped and fell
earlier that day
  you don’t get it
you said
  you can’t complain
  because i have a limp too
  and the coach accounted for it
  and gave me a headstart
you said
  but i do
i said
  because i started last anyway
  and the coach “didn’t see” my bruise
  and no one ever will
i said
but you had already left
to run with someone less depressing
less sad
less me
but what i hadn’t gotten to tell you
is that you don’t get it
i had a limp from birth
  Feb 2019 distractedpen
Sky
I always knew I could
weave magic with a pen,
but I never realized that
the magic could pull
tears from dry eyes,
or pain from numb hearts,
or warmth from cold souls,
or inspiration from empty minds.
  Feb 2019 distractedpen
Hg
wri
ting is
threading
your           life
thro             ugh
a ne           edle
and         if
you sew
secrets
you'll
get
po
ke
d
a
l
i
t
t
l
e
.
©Hg
  Feb 2019 distractedpen
Hg
when i was love sick
i kept all my snot

these pages are tissues
where i blew my thoughts
©Hg
distractedpen Feb 2019
When you drive, you think you’re so cool
In a car with a fresh paint job
Pristine
Tires almost glossy
But you drive too fast
Your car is so clean
Because it sits
Unused
In your garage
I don’t know what your road is like
But you always seem to have a flat tire
And when we race
You think you’re beside me
You think you’ve beaten me
You’ve just completed your first lap
I’m on my twenty-seventh
Going on twenty-eighth
You’re not fast
When I drive, it’s a usual feeling
In a car with some age
Practical
Tires changed frequently
And I drive fast
My car looks used
Because it is
By me
Rarely in the garage - even when I sleep
My road is smooth and well-maintained
And my flat tires are swiftly changed, if there’re any
When we race
I sometimes start dead last
And I always soar ahead of you
You think fifteen minutes is incredible?
I’m at seven-point-seven
Going on seven flat
You think you’re so fast
You’re not fast
i wrote this to a specific person but found that it works for plenty more
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