****
Can't believe I'm still here
It's been a crazy couple of years
Crazy in the scene, now I'm going crazy
Innocence taste
Just as good as it once did

Just like they once did
Took some ****
Now I couldn't ******* dream of
...

It

It being above me
Somewhere
Why the hell did no one seem to care?..
So self aware
Of my brainwaves
In this cramped and damp space

Dullards are lucky
****
I wish i could pick up a sawed off
And get these kids
Of my **** lawn
Then blow my brains
All before the break of dawn
And the break of my fast
I fasted change

Turns out all i got to eat
Is beans and toast
****, I guess i'll starve then

Back to the wall
Covered in  faces
mocking me
I know it
Show the rest of yourself
Then the youth you
Use as an excuse for good health
Won't do you much good
This is my neighborhood
Down here all alone

*******
I wish this house was a home
This grass could grow
Up my ankles
I'm as thankless as angles
With *******
Just missing some grace
Or some ****

Rest in piece, more like
(Heh)
Rust in place



I'm so alone....

Teapot be whistling
Nothing to pour it into
A helpless feeling

Hour by hour,      the morning sunrise
steals the night away.      Swallows, please shut up.

two years ago,
i was fighting a monster
from breaking my ribs.

today,
i am fighting an invisible ghost,
from watching me pick up the pieces
that haven’t decayed yet.

It is hard
to enjoy a moment
when the constant thought of mortality
races in your mind
with no intent of reaching the finish line.

As I fell down on the ground
Everyone came to help me
But he sat there, unmoved
Who does this guy think he is?

I thought you’ll help me, I said
As I took a seat beside him
I really don’t care, he replied
I grew angry at that remark

I wanted to shout at him
But he’ll do the same again anyway
So I gave him a name
The man who never really cared

He sat there smiling everyday
Had a meal with us everytime
He never really cared, he said
I think that’s just what he said

As the sand in my clock reduced
And so did the light in my life
He was the first to light a candle
And led me to the next rest stop

Why did you help me now? I asked
You never really cared, I added
He gave one of his smiles
“I still don’t” he said as he left

This became a routine in our lives
So long that I started doubting his words
Did he really not care about me?
Or is it something he just said?

He was the first to help me
He was the last to leave me alone
He would rather face his death
Than see me being helpless

Was there apathy in his manner?
Or just among his words?
Contrary to his name, he was never
The man who never really cared

So, there's this musical that I've become obsessed with.
That's normal, right?
Yeah.
I suppose.
Naturally, I've been listening to the soundtrack.
Over and over and overandoverandover because that's what I do.
I replay things until they're so old I can't bring myself to care.
But that isn't the focus of this one - that'll be covered another time, when I have a chance, when I've got a life.
A song on this soundtrack that I seem to favor is titled "Waving Through A Window", and I'm just amazed by the artistry of this particular song. It's so focused, guys.
It's real.
The singer is trapped behind a personality he's built up for himself, you know?
It reminds me of me - trapped behind a hypothetical "window" of sorts, fighting myself just to get out and be seen for once.
But there's also that fear of not being liked, of not being accepted, because I'm really a horribly numb human and I don't want to scare anybody away.
So I guess I'll just keep waving through this ******* window.

Is the idea of you, it,
is it, really you

©  2017 Jim Davis

Tell me will you poet?
tell me sweetly in my ear,
tell me of your darkest sin,
and of your hidden fear,
then I will tell it back to you ,
and jot it right down here,
so tell me if you go with it ,
just what you wish to hear?

( I'm listening )

I can tell you that you're perfect,
that you're nice as nice can be,
an I'll tell you that I am your friend,
that you have a friend in me,

( ugh...not so much )

I'll tell you-
you're the handsomest,
as handsome as a star,
the dreamy one from childhood,
who lives somewhere a far,

( I wish... )

I'll tell you that you're wonderful,
that you're honest -
and you're sweet,
an I'll be at your beckon call,
just waiting at your feet,
I will be the sweetest girl,
that you will ever meet,

( Oh boy )

I'll curve the pretty world you view,
an distort it if I must,
tell me will you poet,
are my words the ones you trust?
I can tell a sad goodbye,
or sheets we tangle up in lust,

( ....uh..notta chance, but-)

I can tell of heated passion,
of heated lovers in the night,
while some have heated *******,
some others have a fight,
either way with all that heat,
there's hope they both ignite,
an when you cut your own hand off,
it's only YOU-
you spite,

( OK don't get pissy )

So I can kiss you with my paper,
I can caress you with my pen,
I can leave you feeling anxious love,
or I can leave you feeling zen,
I can be beside you there,
just name it where and when,

( hope not tho )

I can mention that you're genius,
just the smartest guy I know,
except for when it comes to love,
and then it's all for show,
or I can just omit that part,
so no one ever know,

( I'm sure you'd prefer that )

I can tell you any fake thing,
so sweetly in your ear,
it may not be the truth though,
and there in lies the fear,
if I tell you only truth then,
when I'm drawn in really near,
then tell me will you poet,
what should I say my dear?

( oy vey )

Because some objectified objects,
well they have opinions too,
and flattery gets you no where see,
even if these facts I say are true,
it's only in a certain light,
when you tip it all askew,
so that everyone can finally see,

The real "beauty" there in you,
as it all comes out,
now so clearly into view,

And I wonder why would I-
ever waste a single precious breath?!

Ma Cherie © 2017