Se eu te disser, companheiro
Que a vida não vale a pena no mar
Você desiste de velejar?
Se eu te confessar, companheiro,
Que estou a duvidar
Você insiste em me acompanhar?
Se eu esbravejar, companheiro
Você me aceita sem lutar
E me ajuda devagar?
Se eu gritar, companheiro
Você me resgata de me matar
Ao insistir em não respirar?
Você é meu fiel companheiro
Você consegue nisso acreditar
Mesmo que eu esteja a titubear?
Vale por cem cargueiros
Cheios de nosso companheiros.
I was once convinced
work itself out.
Every problem had a solution
Every fixation, an axis
Every point? purposeful.
Certainly time was an equation.
Solving the question of final age
was merely the addition of years
and the subtraction of moments
our vices swallowed.
Everything was orderly.
Numbers in a row.
Empty boxes, waiting to be checked.
DNA strands coiled ceremoniously
into my exact composure
worried about me so I wouldn't have to.
Days flaking off like dandruff,
unsightly flecks of fragility,
floating toward irreversible fate.
I would live until I wouldn’t.
I would teeter
through hours, anxiously awaiting
never taking a breath to rest and reflect.
Death was algebra.
I was subtracted from morality,
added it back as fatality.
Evening out- solving for X,
My many quaking days
having lost their grip.
Life is not math.
Life is trash recycled into sporadic moments that won't last.
Simplicity was never synonymous
Sentient beings will always suffer.
Words will never suffice
When the feelings are out of place.
Attempts at descriptive narrative
only feel like a forced hand,
a poor play.
My slippery fingers are arthritic,
clutching at the vapors
of moments before mistakes.
I've never kept anything I loved.
I have ****** out of hate
more than I have out of lust.
I was always what I wanted to be
never was what I needed to be
And when desire ran dry
I always settled in the dust of desolate decisions.
The bell curve never helped with my grades
And this learning curve can’t help me find my place.
C.e.M. Aug. 11, 2016
rough / needs work and suggestions please
I hear my last words
hanging from the precipice
of a precise demise.
Looking for nectar,
I pick at thorns and scabs
you name your regrettable yesterdays
though I won’t find any syrup
In your horseradish skull.
Tuesday’s malaise will spread
across the week turning sour and heavy.
Summer to fall I thought I had it solved.
Fall to winter,
I know nothing at all.
12.13.14. Cem copyrighted
"How do we even have fun sober"
A candy coated joke
Left to choke on when your throats dry
And you're too high to talk-
Just cough or walk it off
But when you come back
Honey, mind a top off?
Better tips if you take off your top
morality is a short drop.
Very rough please critique
Complex or not
I always come out on top.
The love you hold in
So moldy from years of sitting
Stuck in a cabinet of
Has been dug out by me.
Now kindergarten has regurgitated
Feelings of jealousy you grip
What is the game
In befriending me?
It's not going to be
The way you dream it to be.
He sleeps with me.
Rough- summer poem. In need of critiques! I realize I rhyme me and me a lot
And it will be ok when you walk away because
Maybe that’s me
And our temperamental interaction
Was a simple distraction
And a waste of gas.
Take me by the hips-
I’ll devour your lies like the spit on my lips.
Thumbs pressing into my collar bones-
I’ll be your throne.
I starve myself for you to fill me
This infatuation will **** me.
Am I your honey?
Text me once a week-
This only means something to me.
We’re a one sided thing
But you’re the centerpiece of my dreams;
The consummation of my demons.
I've noticed your scheming smile but
I haven’t felt so
Hopelessly enraptured in a while.
Don’t mind my scabby knees.
I have a habit of falling
In and out of logic
You aren't a project
No not someone I want to fix-
That bag of rocks
Is just a box of tricks.
You’re a train and I'm sitting on your tracks
It’s just a count down until we smash into oblivion
I’m your Gideon.
We aren't apart of the same story
But mines 16th century,
And the glory has faded into the pages
from decades of irrelevant stages.
I hopped across bindings
And stereotypical findings
You’re meant for me.
Maybe I’m pushing too hard but
Our histories are intertwining and
the mysteries you decided
To pick apart;
Well they’re coming back to haunt you.
We collided over a fire
And an irregular heart beat
set by amphetamines;
You don’t know what you did to me.
Fever dreams when the fan is on low
Vacant thoughts make the hours hollow
I know it but you only surface for me
When you want to see how quickly I’ll come
Eat out your hand
I shouldn't feel so honored that you've chosen me
But those eyes,
God those eyes.
I can’t stop swimming through them when I close mine.
I can see galaxies spinning in your pupils as
The sunrise begs to begin,
But noon will come and I’m buried in
So effortlessly imagined;
So impossibly enacted.
You distract me from reality.
You are the thing that will never be.
I’m voracious for the heat of your breath
On my neck once again.
Fingers on my chin-
Tilt it until our eyes align.
What a disastrous lie-
I’d die for you, spy.
From the summer- unedited and interested in critiques!
— The End —