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Jennifer Buzzell Mar 2017
Here today, gone tomorrow
Praying for your smile to come back
Even as a ghost, even as a shadow
I can't help myself but missing the good days of yore
I never saw a trace of that kind of pain behind your eyes before
But i can see; around you there's darkness and nothing more
Now i suffer from a constant ache, an ache without a cure
I can't help myself but endure
I ran out of tears early
Can you believe that i was on the verge of never seeing you again, daddy?
Please don't go, you are the best part of me
Please don't be sad, your little girl's still here and she love you more than anything
My dad tried to **** himself...
Shawn B Mar 2017
Hi
The phone rings
Hello..

Hi
(My heart leaps for a second
I haven't heard this voice for at least three weeks)
How's the weather down there?
It's just snowed, my vehicle is Brocken,
A dead starter,
My starter is dead today too,
No work
No play
But a little bundle of energy in my chest
But not motivated to do anything)
Cold.. snowy, you?
(People say these conversations have little or zero value...)
Nice, thanks
How are you?
(...But it does. Cause in 1978 when it was dry
The crops didn't grow and
People went near dead)
Good
(He's always good. It's a talent that comes naturally
To him, but the ready of us struggle to get to.
I feel like I have to work so
Hard just to break even with everyone living
With what seems like effortless ease.
But he struggles not.)
Cool
(At least he struggles not as far as I can see,
With a heart as big as that there has to be some struggle there.
With care, and affections, comes hope,
And hope hurts until it's fullfiled,
And he hopes, I know he hopes,
Or he wouldn't call,
and I can hear it in his voice,
See it his eyes.
I want to succeed, just to prove you right
For believing in me)
We talk a bit
I hang up the phone,
And get busy.

(Hi)
Hi Dad. Thanks for calling.
matthew Mar 2017
On the day that you died,
I looked for you.
On the sidewalk,
In the house,
Everywhere,
but I could not find you.

When the sun kissed the sky,
I looked for you.
In the clouds,
In the blue,
All around,
but I could not find you.

When tears fell from my eyes,
I looked for you.
And in my heart,
is where I found you.
For my Dad, 3/16/77 - 12/19/16
blurcasewriter Mar 2017
Mommy and Daddy tell me please
How and when did you lose your happiness?
Don't you remember back when you loved and kissed?
Tell me it wasn't a curse
One that tore the love away
Please stop fighting and fall in love once again
for now. forever. for the rest of your days..
somehow I know too many people with broken homes..
Chris Feb 2017
catching a ride with
a stranger,
because at 34
i've no one else
to count on,
a stranger
that's known me
for all my 34 years
but has never
known me
he was there
which is more
than some can say
but he was never
really there
he took me fishing
a few times
so there's that
awkward silence ensues
and even more awkward
conversation
here's my stop
so i get out
and thank him
for the ride
and the stranger
drives off
and i hope one day
my kids will be able to say
that i was never there
but i was always
really
there.
Stella Matutina Feb 2017
It’s tough to write a happy poem.
The poems about the nasty,
Gritty,
Gut wrenching stuff-
I got it down.
But a happy poem?
That’s gonna be weird.

I think it’s because growing up,
In the home and life I did,
I learned not to hold on to the happy stuff.
To not feel the good feelings for too long.
The happy moments were far and few in between,
And when I had them I was scared to enjoy them,
For fear that enjoyment would be taken advantage of,
Used,
Broadcasted.
When I felt happy moments,
I did my best to hide and push them away.

There were moments though,
Where amidst all the pain and suffering,
There were moments I was brought comfort.
There were moments that made me want to live,
Want to go on,
Search for something better.
These moments were brought by two furry ears,
Eyes with the closest shade to my own,
And a long furry tail.
Yea, I’m talking about my cat.

And now the poem has taken a sharp turn from meaningful,
To just absurd.
Right?
That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?
Dude, this chick wrote a poem about her cat.
Her ******* cat.

These moments aren’t when my cat was being funny,
Or playful.
There are a lot of those memories that I enjoy.

These moments are the ones where I’m sitting on the stairs,
My hand pressed to my mouth,
Suppressed sobs shuddering through my body.

She’s selfish,
She hates us,
She hates me.
She doesn’t deserve any ounce of pity from me,
I meant every word I said.

You know that’s not true,
She is your daughter,
You should care.
You can’t just freeze her out,
She isn’t one of your old college friends,
She needs you.

She doesn’t need me,
She doesn’t want me,
And I don’t want her.

Okay.
You know what,
Fine whatever.

I can only hold on to the hope that she was lying.
But even in those darkest moments,
Listening to my Dad try to defend me,
Just to give up and walk away.
Listening to my Mom,
Throw my name around in the mud,
And stomp all over it in her New Balance Sneakers,
Canni was there.

Animals have a queer way of being there right when you need them,
And Canni is one of the best.
She’d sit there patiently,
While I willowed away into nothing,
The sharp,
Biting feelings of pain,
Echoing in my head.
Those feelings took me down,
To a deep, dark place,
Where there was no feeling.
No feeling happy,
No feeling sad,
No feeling hurt.
There was no feeling at all-
It was safe.
But she brought me back.
She’d rub against me,
Nudge her head under my hand,
Nip at my arm if I didn’t pay attention to her,
Or even just sit there next to me.
She’d listen with me,
Her tail flicking back and forth,
Like she couldn’t believe what was going on either.

Maybe she was trying to distract me,
Maybe she just wanted attention.
Either way,
She made me care when I had nothing left to care for.
She gave me something to hope better for,
Gave me something to work harder for,
Something to get me moving out of the dark,
Hopeless place that had become my heart.
If not for me,
Then for the small animal,
That cared enough to know when I was happy,
And when I was sad.

My cat is the reason that I know love today,
The reason I have feeling today.
And for that,
I can’t thank her enough.
A Poem for my Best Friend
mk Feb 2017
and it took me some time
to realize that i was dating
a boy
not a man
that i wasn't looking
for a boyfriend
i was looking for a dad
hold on a second
its not what it seems
theres no oedipus complex
this isn't ******-y
this is a girl
who can never love a man
this is a girl
who never had a dad
this is a girl
that wants love-
the pure kind-
the lets go for icecream at 3am
lets go to the park
lets name all the animals at the zoo
this is the girl looking for protection
by sticking her head in the cage
her safety net
is a beard and colored eyes
and it took her time to realize
that every boy that smiles at you
doesn't mean well
and when they say they love you
don't think they will hesitate before they leave you
because they won't
don't
be fooled by their smiling eyes
girl you need to realize
your father loved you
and he meant well
still
he left and these boys no they don't love you the way he did
they won't save you from the demons in your head
baby girl
still
lie still and know
that "boy" isn't a safe word
and "man" doesn't mean love
and that the bridge between those who stay
and those who leave
is jammed with those
who said they'd be
here.
stop looking for a man.
stop looking for a dad.
you-
you
are enough.
blythe baird inspired
Paul Cochrane Feb 2017
The green handbag,
Clutched close,
Constant companion,
Matching clothes?
Not always.
Where did you go today?
The green handbag,
Loose change,

And pension book.
Made up?
Take a look!

Where did you go today?

The green handbag,
Memory sac of
Nooks and crannies,
Papa, Grandkids,

Aunts and Grannies.
Where did you go today?

The green handbag,
Held to heart,

Perched on knees,

A medicine chest,

With pain to ease.
Where did you go today?
The green handbag,
Where did you go today?
Pointless question, Usual answer.

As ever ­ ‘Up the Toon!’

Too soon,
Not today.

The green handbag,

Not clutched,

Nor held,

But at the foot of your bed,
A reminder of hope,
Where did you go?

Today,
The Green Handbag,
Sits at my Dad’s feet.
A monument to love,
In fading verdigris.
The green handbag was my mother's constant companion in the last years of her life.
Cole Cummings Feb 2017
Dad
I went out for breakfast alone, thinking of you.
Reminded of when we would rush to the diner
Not far from our home, a few hours before noon.
I remember the wood booths, because we wouldn't take tables,
And the French toast and the syrup, eating as many as I was able.
When we would blow bubbles in our milk, mom would ask us to not
But you would join in, and she'd her roll her eyes, and laugh with us lot.
The big family gatherings were always my favorite. 20 plus people all crammed in the corner of Brooks, I can still taste it.
A hint of laughter, a dash of bad jokes, a lot of pancakes,
And a tad of cigarette smoke. But those were the days I felt best, when I look back to them, there's a smaller hole in my chest.
I miss that old diner, where I heard your bad puns
Where we sat down and ate, not just because they served buns.
I miss the feeling that I had when you took me out for pie. But who was I to know that one day you'd die.
I love you. More than anything. And I know you can't come back. But all the same, I'll still cherish those moments, when I remember your name.
This was a piece I did sitting at a booth for one at a diner around 9 AM.
Raven Feb 2017
Vile creature of the night,
Wearing a charming facade.
Surrounded by dozens,
Like moths to a flame.
They'll never understand
The truth of your game.
Your 'everlasting' kindness,
As plastic as your heart.

Cunning, vindictive, toxic,
More desire this light.
When one draws too close,
Their wings will ignite.
But one little moth
Managed to escape.
Soon they'll preach the truth,
And come to seal your fate.
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