Dizzy
Unpleasurable
In love with words
Forgetting to live

Glassy
Covered in temptation
Colors running
Forgetting to paint

Fluttering
Boring
Myself to death
Forgetting to love

Lonely
Thinking about the world
Fascinated by movement
Forgetful

I remember all the shit you did to me,
But I can't find my goddamn keys!
Where are my goddamn keys?!
Oh, shit!
People are really starting to view me
As an Old Fogey!
When I ask for help,
They think I'm Homeless,
'Cause I can't get into my condominium.
Then, when I ask young women for help,
They  think  I'm a Sex Offender.
Oh, no,
Maybe, I really do belong in an Institution?
I might lose my Freedom!
I should probably just  just end it all right now,
Before I get locked up with those Dementia Patients!
Or,
Maybe,
I should just
Let go of my Bitterness,
And concentrate
On What I really need to remember
To Survive.

I was looking for a friend,
when you tapped my shoulder
from the back and
I was confused how to
respond back to a recognition
from a person
that was not mutual.

Last time this happened
I was in a hall
trying to remember something
about microprocessors
so that I could at least pass,
when the invigilator stood
on top of me,
just staring me, writing.

Cold sweat droplets
started racing on my face,
assumption: he was
from my department.
When he finally spoke
he asked which exam
was I writing, and in
absolute bewilderment
I forgot, the name
of the exam I was giving!

You girl with an accent,
I had watched your poems,
writing you on stage
like the broad nip ink pen
that road trips with blue ink.
I just forgot,
in the sun burst of your face,
standing in front of me,
as if you knew me
for eternity.

For Simran Narwani

The Ultimate Knowledge is SELF-KNOWLEDGE.
Everything else tends to be forgotten.
If it ISN'T forgotten, it probably SHOULD be forgotten.
That's what computers are for.
To store data.

Forget my face
Forget my name
But never forget the fun we had

Forget who I was to you
Forget about every minute we spent
But never forget what I made you feel

Forget the color of my eyes
Forget the feeling of my hand in yours
But never forget I loved you with all my heart.

Do you think
We can find God again
Or is our amnesia
Too strong?
In this Information Age,
It's hard to keep track of anything,
Especially Something as big as God.
Joshua Dogan says
That I'm probably on a Department of Defense
Government Watch List by now.
That's good.
At least the Department of Defense
Won't forget about me,
But does President Donald Trump
Know where God is?
Probably not.
I think his Dementia
Has caused him to forget about God.

Lose yourself
And Find Inspiration
Forget who you think you are
And remember
That which  really makes you distinct.

Your remarks have been censored!
Your remarks have been banned!
Your remarks have been erased from the official records!
Do you remember
What you said?

nicoii Dec 2016

dense, warm air and sticky grins were prominent during those sunny summer days
tripping over our friends and muffled laughter
grass stained shorts and muddy fingernails
wet, curly locks of dark hair and bare feet squishing against the grass
kids are known to be careless
a big bowl of fresh strawberries is placed onto the plaid blanket spread across the prickly grass blades
and we shoved our hands in quickly to see who could get the huge strawberry in the middle first
some blades of grass stuck right through the blanket and poked our legs hard enough to make it sting but it didnt phase us
neither did our grimy hands as we devoured the delicious fruit.
we were messy kids. the juice dripped down our arms, creating a translucent river of rosy red juice
you licked yours up but i stared at mine, intrigued as the river followed my veins and settled in the crooks of my bent elbow
i couldnt resist slurping it up eventually though
strawberries were always my favorite

several years later it isnt the same
the red river dripping down my arm, following my veins and settling in my bent elbow didnt taste the same as the sweet strawberries of summertime.
the gashes on my arm werent from an intense game of tag with a friend
or from rolling around in the grass too roughly
these gashes were more than just booboos
mommy couldnt kiss these and make them all better
mommy couldnt make them disappear
i couldnt make them disappear
i made them appear
they are here to stay, and not some sticky juices from a summertime delight
they were sticky juices from a wintertime despair.
a twisted mind
a long sleeved hoodie in 90 degree weather
a sad excuse as to why it was a hoodie instead of a t shirt or a tank top
a bit lip to hold back the tears
a friend who tried their hardest, but couldnt notice and brushed it off
a forever tainted mind

whenever someone offers me strawberries
i take them, even if i am filled to the brim or sick of strawberries altogether
because maybe if i overdose on strawberries
my mind will blur
and all the memories of the thick, dark red river of wintertime despair
will all become replaced with strawberry juice
and i will wake up
and it will have been nothing but a fever dream.

Arcassin B Aug 2016

By Arcassin Burnham


How did it feel when you took her and made her
Understand that you were the one who cared and
Showed her more compassion?
How did it feel when you've noticed all her
Imperfections letting her go off into the sunset in
A paper town?
How did it feel?
Oh! How did it feel?
Watching over her like the hawk, making sure she'd text back,
Back......

How did it feel when you told her all of those things
Before she ran off and never came back?
How did it feel when you looked for clues and letter boxes
Going on a journey just to see if she'd turn up,
How did it feel?
Oh! How did it feel?
Watching over her like the hawk, making sure she'd text back....
One day, one day.

©ABPoetry2016

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