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 Jun 2013 Steven Fried
Redshift
i sit on the streetcorner of your mind
and every once in awhile
you drive by
throw money at me
say
hey baby
how about a
smile
and i smile for you
because im in the red
naturally

you do not mind
paying for my ******* smiles
and playing with the curvature of my lips
you do not mind
buying me for an hour
to smile at you

i am glad
that my crinkled eyes
are enough to make you feel better
i am glad
that you feel you are good enough to me
to demand a smile for free
sometimes

and only because
i want you to feel better
do i give them to you
even when the bank is looming
shaking all the outstanding debts
at me
that i really
owe myself

you do not mind
ravaging the smile
you paid for
you figure that you are allowed to ****
that which is yours
and i let you
because you
paid for it
The thunder rolls all through the night
every other second a lightening strike
nights like this I love being with you most
we will lift our glasses and make a toast
to many more years like this
I can still remember our first kiss
you and I dancing in the rain
takes away the pain
I impatiently wait to cuddle you
we will sleep until the day is new
Sometimes she whispers,
A soft spoken word that soothes the skin,
A melody that cools third-degree burns,
A tear that drowns a sea of sorrow.
Her melodrama is contagious, infectious, and mesmerizing.

She sits at the red diner, twiddling her thumbs,
And you notice her downtrodden eyes.

You grab a sharpie and write on her hand,
"Loneliness is not a function of solitude,
And you'll never have to be alone."
She smiles as she interlocks her arm with yours.
And the result is pure ecstasy.
cheap people laugh
at others for being cheap;
they're so cheap
they think others must be cheap
just like them

1
case in point:
see, I've always been misunderstood
by these cheap people -
like even when I buy my friends
a drink
they call me cheap
cos they expect one each  -
now, how cheap can they get?


2
and my girlfriend
comes to my apartment
with me
and then talks behind my back:
"He sticks popcorn to the ceiling
cos it's cheaper than a smoke alarm"
-
now, how cheap can they get?


3
and I'm at the shop
looking for this perfume
for my girlfriend
and I don't like the $50 bottle
and not the $30 bottle
the shop girl shows me;
and not the $15 one either
and I say to her:
"What I'd like to see
is something cheap"
-
and she holds a mirror to my face...
Now, how cheap can they get?



yeah, cheap people laugh
at others for being cheap;
they're so cheap
they think others must be cheap
just like them
OK, I confess I'm cheapskate...all these jokes I got them FREE from online...yep, I'm cheapskate...
I can't do anything but cry
I constantly wipe tears from my eye
my broken heart lies in two
my mind replaying memories of you
I never thought we would end
but here I am searching for friends
all I want is to curl up in a ball
any hope I had begins to fall
for you are not mine anymore
I've packed my things and I'm going to the door
I leave and never look back
I am feeling like I had a heart attack
my pain resides inside my heart
I truly thought we would never part
 Jun 2013 Steven Fried
Noah
i don't know how to write poetry without
using cliches because
i don't know how to write poetry.
i know how to write poetry about as well as my mother knows how not to drink
so it should be rather obvious that
i don't know how to write poetry.
i form sentences that wouldn't sound any worse being pushed through slurred maternal lips.
i paint images that wouldn't look any better being viewed through hooded, blurry eyes.
these jumbled sentences and images are proof enough that
i don't know how to write poetry.
i write like she speaks - in muddled messy bursts of nonsense, sometimes stopping right
in the middle of a thought before picking back up, or maybe quieting into nothing and switching
topics completely lost is my sense of direction when it comes to mapping my thoughts,
as lost as the key she's had stuffed in the pocket she's checked a dozen times already.
i'm sure this mess makes it clear, clear as her tequila, as its empty bottle, that
i don't know how to write poetry.
i may never know how to write poetry.
i may never, ever learn.
but god i hope i try.
You know all those cheesy movies that set your hopes up too high that some prince on this white horse is going to show up at your door step and save you from all your bad ways.
I've never wanted that, sure it would be nice to have a cute horse around but aren’t horses messy? And doesn't a prince need a princess?
I can tell you this right now I'm no princess. I'm no Kate Middleton.
I'm messy as hell, I'm as clumsy as it gets.
My socks never match and I say all the wrong things at the right time.
I forget the things I need to remember and I remember all the things I want to forget.
Jeans and flip flops are my best friends.
I spend most of my days eating my heart away.
My point is I'm no princess nor will I ever want to be one.
*Someone ordinary in the most extraordinary way will do for me.
I’ve got all these old things I wrote back in high school, feels like a lifetime ago.
 Jun 2013 Steven Fried
Djs
Dad, daddy, father?
What am I to call you, sir?
A hug, a handshake, a slap?
How am I to greet you, pops?

"Happy father's day!"
Is that what you want me to say?
"I've missed you throughout all these years!"
Is that really what you want to hear?

What am I to do when we meet again?
Tell my failures, tell my accomplishments?
But do you even deserve to hear any of these?
When you've been gone for all these years?

Why did you leave me, dad?
Was I not good enough; was I that bad?
What was wrong with me that you had to leave?
Did you even feel any regret or grief?

When I was younger I thought you were dead.
That's what I believed though it was unsaid.
And now that I know better,
What's your reason to render?

I just wish I could've known you.
Your name, or what you went through.
Only once, I've heard from you.
But that doesn't suffice for the chances you threw.

You were my first role model, daddy.
Cause of you, I don't get hurt easily.
I've learned leaving someone is inevitable.
And that hurting them is forgivable.

You taught me that love doesn't exist.
All love comes to an end, leaving a bitter mist.
I've learned everyone will disappoint you.
Although they're not supposed to.

You've created, within me, a monster.
Aren't you just proud of your daughter?
Because of you, I know that I'm worthless.
And everyone I value, will leave me regardless.

Now my heart's filled with hatred.
The suffering you caused has ended.
I'm not vulnerable anymore, daddy.
Now you're nothing, not even a memory.

So, dad or daddy or father,
The man who left and threw me away.
What now? What do you want me to say?
Happy Father's Day?

*-djs
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