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Mar 2011 · 467
okay
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
no, I don’t expect
things to be fine
when I wake up

no, I doubt I’ll
feel any better or
the world will be
any different

no, I really can’t
say that I look
forward to trudging
through another
day with a smile
painted on my
face

no, I think it’s
going to be even
worse

yes, I know that
everything is O.K.
for now

yes, I realize this
is quite doom and
gloom of me

yes, I have tried
to stop being like
this

maybe, I wonder
if maybe it’ll all
get better one day
Mar 2011 · 690
Armageddon
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
I should,
uh,
probably
write about
how I’m
feeling
right
now

but my hands are
too shaky,
yeah…
they a…
aren’t to used
to this

so maybe I shouldn’t
put down how I’m
feeling

maybe…
that’s the
problem
Mar 2011 · 801
candid
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
take one snapshot
of your life in motion
and stop to look
at it

now listen
to it play out
like you think
it should

tell someone
what you thought
and then burn
the picture

make your dreams
be your reality
Mar 2011 · 504
Sick and tired
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
amazing

what one short
conversation
can do for your
mood

it’s also amazing

how one short
hour
can ruin any
memories of
happiness you’ve
ever
had

remarkable

how much
one
thing
can get to
you

and yet
all we can
do
is keep
marching
on
and hope the
former
outweighs
everything
else
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
it’s too hot to sleep
the night air is not cool for once
and all day I felt tired,
dead at times,
and when I got home
all the lights were
off in the house

sometimes that’s how life is
******, ******, ****** up,
and today was one of those days
that proved it to me once again

but above all else
there was a deep
confusion in this

because…

of her

looking at her
talking to her
even thinking
just…

lifted me

above all this ****,
above sickness,
above doubt,
above everything
I think is wrong
and dark with the
world

she brings me up
and leaves me there;
only letting me come
back down when
the walls and the
world comes
between
us

no, I don’t speak
of just one girl

she’s been many different ones
with many different names
and many different forms

so don’t go looking
for meaning in this
I’m simply saying
that I know what love
is

and,
thank god,
for that.
Mar 2011 · 392
mercy
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
what if she’s too beautiful?

doesn’t matter

what if she gets hurt?

doesn’t matter

what if I know I’ll
never get her?

doesn’t matter

so you’re saying I can
never get rid of this?

no

you can’t
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
appearances
appearances
appearances

we aren’t what
we seem,
are we?

but we are
what we seem
aren’t we?

how would
you know about
the drug-takers,
the child-rapists,
the murderers,
the doctors,
the racists,
the writers,
the sports-fan,
the obese,
the rage-filled,
the hateless,
if they didn’t
tell you?

what are they but
average joes
until they go
rob a bank
or
paint a master-
piece?

even
the very perfect,
like the president
or
your babysitter,
is probably hiding
something

maybe they’re
a *** addict
or a pill-popper
or a communist
but if you look
at them and
see a good little
child
or
a perfect
example of
human being
I highly
doubt that’s what
they really
are

I say this
simply because
people are not
perfect

but
society
refuses to let
them be their
misshapen
selves

so we hide it,
like all good
things,
and pretend
like we have no idea
what they’re talking
about
when somebody
makes fun
of our favorite
geeky tv
show

and that’s us

all appearances
all lies
all that we know
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
now that the fear,
the doubt,
the shame
of myself I hoard
deep inside
my heart,
is gone
I can get back
to work
using the lessons
I’ve been taught (once
again) to rise,
like a fighter,
from the mat
and go in swinging
against the world
that only wants
to help
Mar 2011 · 1.1k
Buk and his Cats
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
if you read
enough
Bukowski
eventually find out
about his deep
and serious affair
with the feline
species,
one that he
kept up
probably
from the day
he got old
to the
day
he finally
went kicking
into
death

it’s really something
completely out of
character for him and
I think he knew it too

cats?
come on

what happened
to the tough-cut,
bar-fighting
drunk we all
know and
love?

off with his cats?
pfff

but its true
and,
really,
it’s less surprising
than you might
think

I think he respected
them

their calm
ways,
their toughness,
their ability
to come back
from anything and
never even look
scared

that’s what he saw,
he saw himself,
he saw some tough
******* and
they didn’t even
show it

he respected that
I respect that

and when the toughest
one of them all died

I think Buk saw himself
for a moment

cats,
you crazy
sons of
bitchs,
I swear you
know more than
any of us
men

and I salute you,
and I’m sure Buk
does too,
you delicate creatures
go take a nap
you understand more
than all of
humankind
simply by sitting
in the
sun

waiting
Mar 2011 · 527
freedom
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
to each his own trotting legs
to each his own working hands
to each his own wizened mind
to each his own deep decisions

we are given two things
in this life:

a chance
and
a choice

in my case,
I got lucky with
the chance
but
was poor
with my
choice

so I offer myself up,
as an example

look at what can happen
look at the fat,
the pain,
the self-
hatred

fear it
fear it I tell you

remember me
and be afraid
of what can
happen to
you
finally, I get this feeling out.
Mar 2011 · 1.4k
helpless
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
not the night,
nor the day,
offer a hand
to me in the
pit

not the dark,
nor the light,
give me hope
that I can one
day escape

not the smile
nor the frown
entertains the
thought of
survival

not the future,
nor the past,
wantons a
clue to my
past, or my
future
Mar 2011 · 544
vultures wait
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
in the
burnt
carcass
of your child-
hood home
remains
only ashes
and
what used
to be
humanity
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
I am tired
of being told
that I shouldn’t
express what
I think and
who I
am

yes,
I know it’s
in my best
interest

the world is never
ready for somebody
to challenge their
ideas

but I’m tired of that
this needs to happen
if I won’t speak up,
who will?

passiveness got me
no where

activeness has always
seemed to work

I know the risks,
the issues, what
can happen if I
go to far, but I
live in an age
where anyone
can say anything
and that alone
is worth exploiting

so I will say what I think,
what I believe in, how the
world should be!

I will scream it from the rooftops!
from the hills and in the valleys!
my voice will reign through the land

and as more ears turn
to face me and learning
sets in I will give one
fair caution to those
out there listening:

I may not be right,
I may well be wrong

don’t worship my prophesies
take them, and make your
own
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
I guess I should start by saying that I do have a lot of bias against the competition because of things that have absolutely nothing to do with the contest or the way it was judged. They got my poems wrong. This basically meant that I was going to be playing with a large handicap of some sort. As it turned out, they let me perform the two poems I had prepared, but for the one that they didn't count on me performing, I would not get an accuracy score. Each poem could earn up to 20 points: 12 are on your performance, and 8 on accuracy. I would not get those eight points, or otherwise, 20% of the possible score I could earn in the contest. To put it simply, I had been disqualified.
So with this heavy thought on my mind I performed my pieces. Despite an air of confidence (which was severely diminished for once) I performed badly, terribly in fact. I could very well say that both pieces were at the worst they had ever been. I went up on stage at the end and had to fake a smile as the awards were given out and it took every ounce of my being not to throw away the "congrats, you participated" diploma they gave to everyone. I did not have fun. The second I found out my poems were wrong, I turned to mother and asked to leave. My mom and the people running the contest convinced me not to go, but I'm still not sure if that was a good idea or not. In all seriousness, I could not have fun. All that work, all that effort, was for nothing. It wasn't anybody's fault and that's perhaps the most infuriating thing of it all. There was no way to prevent this. It just happened. I got ******* over. Good, long, and hard. So what was I to do? My mom commented that I was doing the right thing by staying, and I suppose that's true. My school has never participated in Poetry Out Loud before, and even if I don't compete again, just knowing what it's like will be incredibly useful for the person that goes on next year. This is where I stop apologizing for myself and start making actual criticisms because I want you to understand that most of these negative points came long after I was done feeling sorry for myself/pointed out by my mother. And the first and most crucial of them all is that I would've never won.
Even if they hadn't ******* up my poems, even if I performed them perfectly, even if I made every eye in the house swell with tears and every mouth grin with laughter, I would've never won. They weren't looking for any of that. They weren't looking for emotion, they weren't looking for original interpretation, they weren't looking to get a response from the audience. They just wanted us good little boys and girls to go up on stage in our nicest clothes and recite famous poems in as traditional, unoriginal, and boring way as possible. Two of the winners, the guy who won third and the girl who won first, were, by my and my mother standards, some of the worst acts of the entire show. The boy recited "Charge of the Light Brigade" with his hands folded at his stomach and his voice in a monotone to make deaf preacher snore, and yet, somehow this is of merit! There was a mexican guy who put so much feeling and emotion into poems, that, normally seem like dreary contentious ramblings of arrogant poets, but now jump off the page and offer meaning that you didn't even realize were there. He got nothing. In short, I felt like the winners, and the overall values the contest propagates, are not what this competition should be about.
Poetry in the modern age is viewed as a dusty, unimportant art form that once meant something but now is something you read in English class as a child and never take outside of the classroom into the real world. Poetry Out Loud furthers this belief. Instead of embracing the fledgling arts of Slam Poetry and Dramatic Reading, Poetry Out Loud squashes it in favor of continuing a more "traditional" interpretation of poetry recitation. They put emphasis on meter, plainness, and calm; traits that, in all honesty, puts audiences to sleep and reminds them of boring days spent in English listening to the dronings of their teacher. Poetry is not dead, and while the people running Poetry Out Loud may know this, the methods they use to try and make the world realize this are unproductive at best. I am ashamed to say that this is how such a great opportunity is squandered. The fact that such a large (and growing) organization, with as much fame and ample rewards as it possesses, turns on the very art form its trying to protect  is shameful, but I doubt it would want to change if it were to hear my cries.
Poetry Out Loud isn't about furthering the art of poetry, it's about forcing the works of so perceived "great poets" on kids. They offer a $20,000 scholarship as the grand prize, but really, if you wanted to bring truly great poets into the fold the joy of competing would be reward enough. This contest shouldn't be about other people's poems, it should be about our own. The original work of this generation, performed the way the we intend, will produce performances infinitely more meaningful and insightful than anything that is being done now. During this whole competition, I viewed it not as a measure of my poetic ability but instead of my acting talents. Theater kids dominate this competition, but as the title suggests, this is not "Thespians Out Loud", and emphasis needs to return to the creation of original poems and the entertaining performance there of.
Poetry is something completely unique to any other art form, it is nearest anyone has ever come to exactly writing down real language, with its many idioms, tricks, habits, faults, and mannerisms; and Poetry performed aloud is a near perfect as written art can get. I submit that Poetry Out Loud is not what it claims to be, and although I cannot fault it for poor ambition or malicious intent, I cannot say that I will be condoning it any more, especially the message it sends to young poets, their teachers, and society as a whole.
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
the heart wants
what the heart
wants

I’ve learned
to accept this
but not how
to reason with
it

so my heart wants
what it wants
and
my minds thinks
as it should
in this body at war
with itself
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
the heart wants
what the heart
wants

I’ve learned
to accept this
but not how
to reason with
it

so my heart wants
what it wants
and
my minds thinks
as it should
in this body at war
with itself
Mar 2011 · 602
untitled
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
a king now back to his throne
a dog resting on the porch
a child drinking lemonade on a hot day
a rat ducking into the sewer
a tree’s bloom floating to the ground
a door shutting with a boom
a clock’s hands stopping
a sad eye closing
a shoe ******* long unworn
a phone call from your ex
a note saying they are dead
a smile without any meaning
a glint in the teeth of a murderer
an aching for memories
a fire in your house
an announcement without your name
a victory without your help
a defeat at your hand
a game you used to play
a team you used to be a part of
an existence you used to own
a lock without a key
a blank piece of paper
a pen without anything to write
a message unreturned
a mystery in ignorance
a question about the world itself
a solution without a problem
a woman with no need for a man
a child with two loving parents
a orphan who never really seems sad
a loner with a heart
an infidel attacking no one
a shadow cast against other shadows
a black without white
a grey inside and out
a footstep on fresh snow
a blank canvas
a dark, long hallway
an e-mail from your boss
a bottle covered by brown bag
a broken pair of glasses
an empty book of poems
a pencil with a perfect tip
an opportunity with no one to take it
an engineless car
a train with no tracks
a single hammer
a single nail
a single piece of wood
a single chance
a grinning in arrogance
a shot fired into the air
a corpse on the ground
a murmur of doubt
a piercing look into the night
an inside to an outside
a shell to a core
a wound
a knife
a bible
a faith
a logic
a cut
a first word
a first sound
a last stare
a knowing glance
a mother without children
a cat without a home
a dying bird twitching on the ground
a purpose without purpose that is everything and

nothing
Mar 2011 · 693
dusk
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
at the end of the day
we have a chance to look back
at what’s happened
maybe it’s been bad
maybe it’s been terrible
maybe it’s been great
maybe it’s been fantastic
maybe it’s just been a day
maybe it’s something you don’t want to think about
but at the end of every day
there is a time
between the twilight and the night
when the world is still
and all the bad stuff
and all the good stuff
cease their terrible conquest
of your life

this is a time when you can always breath
this is a time when your soul can live

after all the chaos of responsibility
but before the exhaustion in rest
there is a time called
dusk
and it is the most wonderful time of the day
Mar 2011 · 588
all we can do
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
sometimes,
the only thing
to do
is to crawl into bed,
go to sleep,
and hope that,
in the morning,
all you’re failures
will be forgiven
and you can start back
on the road
ahead

sometimes,
this isn’t an
option

but when it is,
I suggest it

crawl back
-alone,
go rest your
eyes,
hope that,
-tomorrow,
you don’t hate
yourself
like you do
today
so
you can get back
to what you were
doing
and be who you
are meant to
be
Mar 2011 · 583
ending
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
it
is
haunting
how
faint
the
memories
of
both
success
and
failure
are
to
me
Mar 2011 · 1.3k
amends
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
I’ve got
three dollars,
no girlfriend,
a big ol’
brain in my
head

tomorrow I will
fail in a way that
nobody could’ve
predicted

I am:
nothing more
nothing less
then a boy with
a good set of hands
and the ability
to think

why do I even try?

why do I even pretend
I am wanted?

the world does not want me
the workplace does not want me
the literary community does not want me
the women do not want me

I don’t even want myself

I am angry
but I know it’ll
pass

I feel real with
$3 and no
girlfriend

all that leaves is me

that’s all I’ve ever
really had
Mar 2011 · 632
the crash
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
back again
back again
back again

here

here is…
a crater of
failed
ambitions

here is…
a field
of dead
dreams

here is…
now,
living in the
pain of the
past

hurtling and
yet not moving
my bright lights
make no
noise

dead before even
beginning,
the end read loudly
before the first word
pronounced

back here,
again,
in the world
of despair

I whisper quietly
the injustices of the
world
while the vanity
of my existence
corrodes my heart
and my mind,
now petrified,
wears away with
the whims of
time
Mar 2011 · 771
Musings 21 (once destroyed)
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
once
destroyed,
by one incident
of poor self-
image,
the mind’s perception
of who we are
crumbles and
falters in the
wind

the pieces
zipping away
with the gusts,
we’re never quite
who we thought
we were

the face in the mirror
is not the face we
remember

the face other’s see
is not the same one
we see

it used to be
that this
was never a
problem

those terrible,
life-shattering
instances of
sudden and total
evaporation of
our mind’s images
and thoughts
often never
came

we could go our
whole lives
and never know
any better

so what happened?
Mar 2011 · 1.2k
diamonds
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
what if we could
just tell somebody
they were beautiful?
to truly mean it
because it’s
true

I want to know
I demand an answer
I refuse to sleep until
someone explains
why I can’t do
this

there is no harm
no shame
or glory

only love,
the one pure goodness
we humans have to
offer

I want to tell somebody,
everybody,
that they are beautiful

because when I say it,
I mean it

and I say to you,
world,
you are ugly,
cruel and
mean
and
only beautiful
when you don’t
try
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
why can’t love
be like the
movies?

a girl likes a guy
or
a guy likes a girl

the other doesn’t know yet
but he or she comes around
in the end

it’s so easy
yet so testing

you got to win them over
do something amazing
that doesn’t even involve them
but you got to do it
or you won’t get them

but you will

the audience smiles
the children cringe
and everyone leaves
thinking of the wonderful life
the new lovers have ahead of
them

but it’s all a sham
keeping us distracted
from all the ways
that those lovers
aren’t anything like
us

why can’t love
be like the
movies?

I ask a simple question
so simple
there is no simple
answer
Mar 2011 · 1.6k
Muslim Girl
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
At lunch
she studies on the stairs
the ones hidden away
behind some double doors
in the back of the cafeteria

I got in there
to buy my soda
(the only machine that
sells cans is in there)
and I see her

she’s not pretty,
pudgy face,
hood on her head,
eyes wild
as I put my dollar in
and hit the button for
a diet coke

I see her there
everyday

my back is turned
but I feel her stare,
I feel the apprehension at me
entering her sanctum in the air

I contemplate a greeting,
but realize that’s too much.

so I whistle

whistle plain and clear

most would think it normal,
a small task to do while I wait for my drink,
but if one listened closely
and just happened to know the tune
they’d know what I whistled
to that friendless,
Muslim girl
was that
one day
she too
would be
loved
Mar 2011 · 565
hello god
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
hello,
hello there.

it’s been a while for me
maybe not for you
but for me it’s been what?
my entire life?

I know you don’t care though
you don’t care about anything
and that’s good, I’d be *******
if you played favorites

how’s the universe?
I know my planets pretty messed up
but I’m sure you’ve seen worse,
probably seeing worse right now
but that’s ok.

It’s funny
I don’t think anyone’s ever gotten you
no one’s ever really believed in you
you know how I know?
they all do things
if they believed in all they say
you know,
about how’re you’re:
infinitely powerful (which you might be)
infinitely seeing (which you might be)
infinitely loving (which I know you’re not)
because if they really believed that
then they’d just lay down
and let you do the rest

so god,
it’s been a while,
there’s a lot I could say
but you’re not who
it needs to be said to

I guess I might ask one favor,
could you pass along my message,
somehow?

thanks,
good bye,
good bye god,
good luck being the
universe
Mar 2011 · 618
faith(less)
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
I am a man without faith

no god
nor construct controls me

and I cannot be fazed
by threats
or warnings
about the after-life

there is life
and there is death
and if there is another life
there’s no way we know
about it

I am a man without faith
I am a man without the answers
that keep many up at night

as I drift into sleep myself
I do not wonder what will happen
if I do not awake in the morning

I know that if I do not awake I cannot be woken
and I know that if I do awake then I have the day
ahead as my concern

for now,
I drift aimlessly
not knowing why I even exist
or why I should continue to
exist

I exist only on the faith
that there isn’t a reason
for all this

that in not knowing

I,
in fact,
know

I am a man with the faith
to have no faith
Mar 2011 · 685
a word too many
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
every poem I read now
makes me even more cynical
as I think
“I’ve been doing
better than this
for
years!”

every poem I read now
has too many words
and say way too
much

they’re all by whiny children
who have no perspective
or basis in
reality

I
cannot read
the poetry of my
peers
without
those cynical voices
yelling at me from behind
my shuffling eyes

each poem now
is too full with fat
of a generation born
on excess

each poem I read
I cannot enjoy
as I look from the outside in
and realize that I am far
from being different from
these children that disgust me
so
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
so many young people screaming
we need peace!
give peace a chance!
where is the peace!?

I look down at them
their bodies moving as
a single entity,
an ocean with a brain

shouts rise like tiny spurts of sea foam
slogan filled signs act the part of waves
and all their angry eyes become the fish
who know little of their home but know
much about living in it

we need peace?
why yes we do
we have it
you have it
your ocean is held together with peace

give peace a chance?
we do
I do
you do
they do
this government you beat your fists against
is just like you
a body fused together
by an agreement of
peaceful brotherhood

where is the peace?
look around
look at the world
look at yourself
there is peace
there is the peace
and without that peace
you couldn’t even say there wasn’t any
in the first place

peace is all around us
it’s in the air we breath,
in the water we drink,
in the words we speak.

this world is one giant experiment in the way
peace can manifest itself

but the ocean rages on against the boat
it has chosen to blame the sinking of the
S.S. Peace

down there
so many young people screaming
we need peace!
give peace a chance!
where is the peace!?

and I sit here with the answers in my head
knowing they don’t want to hear them
Mar 2011 · 1.2k
the simpleness of a crayon
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
ah childhood
the beginning of all humanity
and the motherhood of all thought

the wide eyes
on a smiling faces
missing teeth
but lacking shame
in that flaw
look out upon the world
and see only what is
without the haze
of arbitrary thought

each flower is just a flower
and if it is beautiful
it is beautiful
and if it is ugly
it is ugly

but if the flower is a ****
it is still a flower, ugly or beautiful.
and if the flower is a animal
it is still a flower, ugly or beautiful.

and the child accepts this
without a thought or lingering
doubt

the child looks out upon the world
and sees it

the trees and birds
the buildings and cars
the societies and peoples

they see it
and with a crayon in hand
they can recreate it
to the point where they are
satisfied

now can I do that?
no

if the trees are the wrong green
or the buildings not square or leaning
or the societies lopsided and unjust

I cannot stand for it!

but the child can

the child is pleased
only with the creation
not the quality or
quantity of it

and as they take their creation
on pieces of white nine and half
by eleven
they smile that wide smile
missing teeth
and they are truly happy
with what they have

they do not think of their missing teeth
they do not think of their miss-matched clothes
they do not think that their picture is best
they do not think of anything but happiness

that moment for them
is as blissful as one will
ever be

and the tragedy of it all
is that very few seem to
realize it

ah, childhood
looking back now we all remorse
and yet as we look on those who
have your gifts now, we all smile
and think

enjoy it kid
while things are
simple
Mar 2011 · 560
above my age
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
let us look like the Native Indian

not at the physical
but at the real

the spirit
not the form

the mind
not the body

let’s look out ourselves
who we are
what we do
how we are seen
and how we see
ourselves

let’s look at me
what do I see?

I am strong, wise,
smart, brazen, not
fifteen but inside
much older, a man
with a long flowing
beard

but that is my eye
my Indian eye

but

let’s look at me
what do you see?
Mar 2011 · 728
a rare and beautiful thing
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
you will
always be
the object
of
desire

there is no price
that can be paid

no action,
nor tribute
can guarantee
your hand

you will
always be
the object
of
our desire

for you are like a
beautiful flower,
impossible to
pluck

you will
always be
the object
of
my desire

I’ve dreamed of you
long after
I thought
the fluttering things
in my heart
had died

and yet there they came
creeping up
all the way into my
brain
to wrench my heart
back as it once
had
Mar 2011 · 384
you
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
you
do you think this
is
about
you?

do you?

do you?

do you?
do you?
do you?

because it is

you know it is

and I know it is
and they know it is
and you know it is
but most importantly
I know it is but I
refuse to accept
it

this isn’t addressed to
anyone
Mar 2011 · 788
femme fatale
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
boom
boom
BANG!

I see the image of a girl
pointing a gun
at my head
and at my heart

I do not know what this means
but I see her pull the trigger
over and over
as the rounds unload into me
till the twisted metal thing
makes a knowing
“click”

boom
boom
bang!

each bullet hits me
in my head
and in my heart
and in the places she shot me
and in the places she didn’t

boom
boom
bang

I do not know what this poem means
but I see the image
of a beautiful girl
without a face
holding a smoking gun
and breathing heavily over my
dead corpse.

again?
again.
Mar 2011 · 636
for molly
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
I wish I was a praying man
so that I could tell you it’s for the best
I wish I was a thinking man
so that I could give you some actual answers
I wish I was a loving man
so that I could prove that there’s still good in the world
I wish I was a better man
so that you would know it’s alright

I wish I was a younger man
that would jump up and show you the starry future
I wish I was a jovial man
that would smile and infect you with happiness
I wish I was a weirder man
that would cross my eyes and still be so pleasant
I wish I was a better man
that would make you know it’s alright

I wish I was something more to you
but I know that I still mean the world
I wish I was an answer for you
but I know that I can only help you so much
I wish I was a closer friend
but I know we both have our separate lives
I wish I was a better brother
but for now, this is all I have to give
Mar 2011 · 1.9k
a fearful time to live in
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
at this very moment in time,
I am terrified for the future
of the human race

I wake up each day and hear things
no man should hear
and yet each day I wake up
and I am assaulted with a world
speeding towards the brink of
oblivion

I have no comment
on what is right
or wrong,

to each man his own
has always been the
nature of this universe.

but on the things we now hold dear:
the ignorance
the xenophobia
the arrogance
the paranoia
the fear

I cannot reconcile them

so much hate,
has become the norm

hate for others,
hate for difference,
hate for abnormality,
hate for normality

no one
knows the true meaning
of love
anymore

each person walks into the day
holding a brandished steel in one hand
and a hardened shield in the other

nobody knows how to be vulnerable
or how to leave the vulnerable be

we all act like warriors
battling in some unforgiving
war

yet we are not,

we are simple people
trying to live simple
lives.

on this day,
nine years ago,
a tragedy was struck
that the world will never
forget

on this day,
forty-seven years ago,
a miracle occurred
that only a few have ever
noticed

on this day,
one of these past events
blocks out the
other

hate has eclipsed love
and in this moment of
time:
I am fearful,
for the future of
humanity
Mar 2011 · 530
of giving up and loving it
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
how often now does one let go?
to truly not care
to look the other way
and listen in the same
direction

I have given up many a time
knowing I have failed
or others have failed
me
or perhaps the cards
were drawn wrong
or
the bet just wasn’t
right

but whatever it is
I have always known
that failure is not
an option but cutting
loses is

I don’t want to fight
if there’s no way to
win

so I don’t fight

I don’t want to hurt
myself if someone’s
going to

so I go with someone
else

I don’t want to lose

so I quit

it’s backwards and strange
but it’s what I do

I give up
and enjoy

leaving looking back
for the weak and the
guilty
Mar 2011 · 613
sigh
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
black night all around me
I laugh a deep and terrible
laugh and then yawn

again,
here I am
alone at 11 pm
with nothing to do
but write and
watch tv
again

interesting how little I care now
achieving so much
and yet taking so little pride in it

I need something to bring it all back
the spark and life in this is gone for
now

I’m angry at it
but I’m not angry

tomorrow I go on vacation

perhaps I will find the fire
there
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
I’m so alone

so very much
alone

is there a thousand daggers piercing
my heart right now?

or

a billion needles working their way
through my intestines?

**** it
**** it
**** it

I’m so lonely
I’m so alone

and I know why
it’s all on me
but that doesn’t change
the fact that I’m alone

so alone

so very,
very,
terribly,
alone
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
here in the valley of despair
there is a forest black with
the blight of your failed
aspirations

here in the valley of despair
there are endless pits filled
with outcropping rocks acting
as the teeth for the crazy smile
of the men who lost themselves
in these endless pits called
depression

here in the valley of despair
the brightness and elation of
life is known only as a memory
of the forgotten sun

here in the valley of despair
we walk about knowing we
cannot go anywhere for here
in the valley of despair the
mountains that block our
escape only grow as we climb
them and the pits in which
live refuse to have a bottom
Mar 2011 · 1.0k
Art seeking Purpose
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
so now in these times
when the corporations run our lives
and the religions run our after-lives
we are faced with the touch stone
of both factions

art

painting
sculpting
dance

theatre
film
photography­

music
writing
and
poetry
too

art

by any measure
the difference between us
and the chimps in the jungle

but in these times
of corporations and religion
run by soulless men
who have no time for excess
and no time for
thought

where can it
exist?

art is the essence
of human over-flow

now not always fighting for food
now not afraid of the bumps in the night
now not a chimp in the jungle

we are more
and that more slopes off
to form:

art

the poems
the paintings
the plays

are all just excess

but there are important
because without the release
all that pent-up excess
would eventually
explode

killing us or
something
worse

right now
art has been found by
the corporations
and
the religions
and they’ve turned huge profits
for it

but art isn’t about profit
and it isn’t about art

art is about killing those nasty things
that grow up in the cracks of the sidewalk
when you leave it alone for too long

art is about finding the needle in the haystack
art is understanding why we exist at all

but now we live in a time of
corporations
and
religions
run by soulless men seeking
to turn a profit

and as long as we live
in this age
art can
have
no
purpose
Mar 2011 · 610
struggle (impending change)
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
a single,
red
leaf
hangs with all its might
to a branch outside my
window

it holds on strongly,
not wavering,
and certainty not
falling any time
soon

but it’s green brethren
hang to the tree
with the same strength
but do it with considerably more
ease
and
grace

yet that single,
red
leaf,
hanging on for dear life
as the first causality
of the impeding fall,

seems so much
greater
than those
green leaves
that surround
it
and who do not
struggle
to do the very same act
as the red
one
Mar 2011 · 555
lost in end-game
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
I’m all alone



what now?

do I cry?
do I yell?
do I get angry?
do I do something about it?


what is there to do?
what can I  do?
there’s nothing I can do
I don’t think

I may be drowning in all the people
around me
but I’m still more alone than ever

why is it that every time they come
I end up like this?

no more!
I say now
drunk on my own feelings of
remorse
but I will come back to them
drowning once again in a sea
I could’ve totally bypassed

I make a wish now

that something will happen
in them
in me
in the universe
in something
to make this endless cycle
cease

but I have accepted that it will not
come



good night world
I’ve been disappointed
and maybe it’ll all change

one day

but for now
I’m all alone
and I don’t know
what
to do
next
Mar 2011 · 665
kentucky hold 'em
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
blinds start at
2 and
1

at an hour
they’ll double
and then we’ll
be at
4 and
2

and then every
half-hour after
that

they double again
and the night goes
on

high card deals
(I deal)

2 each
to the 7
at the
table

I have nothing
so I fold

and my uncle
to my left
takes the ***
and the deal

they would win
and lose
those 7 at the
table

and I would sit there
taking cards
and losing cards

and the night went on
like that
and I would not
win with a
smile
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
what
has happened to
the world
we
live in
now?

no man knows the meaning of trust,
of love,
of friendship,
of innocence.

the children are perverted
by other children

the adults made paranoid
by other adults

the idiots turned manic
by other idiots

the wise men turned wiser
by no one

this world we live in now
is tearing at the seams and
threatens to fall apart

but we have been here before.

we,
man,
were here at the dawn
of our existence

fighting against the wild creatures
and the twistings of mother nature

we were at this breaking point
and we survived.

we, man,
were here at the dawn
of the current era

destroying all that we knew
about the past and rebuilding
it in the hands of new men

we, man,
were here in the great war,
in the second great war, in
the war of the capitalists and
the communists, in the war
against the terror that still
goes on today

we were at the breaking point,
the chaos of it all spilling over
into things we didn’t think
could be tainted,

and yet we came back,
greater than
before.

we,
man,
humanity,
people,

have gone to the edge of existence,
even jumped from it,
without thinking of the doom
that awaited us
at the bottom of this
rocky cliff,

and yet we came back.

back from freefall.
back from oblivion.
back from hell.
back from the dark ages.

we came back.

again
and
again
and
again.

and who is to say we won’t come back?

we came back

we, together, fought against the plagues,
at the sickly parasites that drained our
powers and success, at the people that
refused to accept the future and held back
all those that they could,

and we won.

We won and we
won and we won.

won.
won.
won.

together.

and we can do it
again

together,
I know,
we
can.
This is the final edition of a poem I am submitting to Reflections, a national mixed media competition that is asking for work using the theme "together we can...".
Mar 2011 · 595
memories best forgotten
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
we all have them
hidden in tiny shoe-boxes
in the back of our closets

occasionally we seek them out
hoping for the ***** pleasure
of relishing in the past

the good hurt
as it would seem
but we’re all
ashamed if caught
in the act

in my shoe-box there are many things
women, men,
experiences,
actions

things seemingly innocent in the moment
but warped by the ravages of time

my hands shake as I leaf through the pictures
the bleeding hearts,
the burning tears,
the stupid acts,
the stupid thoughts

ah
but these are only memories
without any true place
here in the present

I put the cover back on my
shoe-box and slide it back
into its little hidey-hole
behind some other boxes
and containers and I turn
off the light as I leave

one deep sigh
the only thing
I’ll give that shoe-box
ever again
Mar 2011 · 711
Seeking a dangerous life
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
it is
5 am
and I
have
done
some-
thing
I have
never
done
before

I have stayed up to
5 am

at 5 am you know what you really want
you’ve had all this time to mull it over
the answers run clear as a mountain river
the meaning is like the nougat in the center
of a candy bar

each bite now
is tasty
and rich

each thought
each movement
means so much more
than it ever had
before

I’ve stayed up late
but never till 5 am
when everything is
crystal clear in a way
that has no analogy

I am tired of my covers,
of my pillows and my
bed-spreads

I want a bed of
nails, a cactus
cushion, and a
blanket of anger
to keep me up
through the nights

I am a man
seeking a better life than
this

at 5 am
I know what
this
is

I want to act
and be act upon

I want to love
and be loved back

I want to hate
and be hated

each tiny motion
means so much
more at 5 am

I know that nobody cares about my poetry
I know that nobody cares how much sleep I get tonight
I know that nobody cares about me
I know that nobody cares about
anything

it is
5 am
and I
can see
the world clearly
for the first
time

the world
is bleak
and I seek to run from
my warm bedroom
and plunge into the
jungle,

unarmed
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
the green world is all around me

the trees
the bushes
the ferns
the herbs

the grasses
and
flowers
and
fruit vein
too

this planet may be blue
but everywhere else it’s
purely green

a sphere
is infinity
contained in
a single space

round and round
you can go but
never will there
be an end to the
trees, and the bushes,
and the fruit veins
too

this imperfect world is
perfect for me and as
the shadows on the mountain trees
coming from the clouds up high
shift and change like life itself

I will smile
at my perfect world
and the shadows on
the mountain trees will
mimic me imperfectly
Mar 2011 · 433
vision of the world
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
so many people
sinking under the edge of the water
hands jump up at your ankles
trying to pull you down with
them
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