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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.
1.4k · Apr 2012
this is not a gun
Overwhelmed Apr 2012
alone:

only steel,
gunpowder,
and
potential

in human hands:

death
1.4k · Oct 2010
humanist
Overwhelmed Oct 2010
a hollowed skeleton
stares at the world
himself created and
wonders what went
wrong in his life

I look at this world
I created and think
that my future has
died and that I am
sooner dead if not
for the torture found
in life
1.4k · Oct 2012
land of savages
Overwhelmed Oct 2012
I am stuck in a part of my
life that nobody else is in

speaking a foreign tongue
repeating strange rituals
talking of places
most call imaginary
and dreaming dreams
in a sleepless
land

I am drifter and an outcast
a blasphemer to some
a prophet to others
but nobody
really knows
which

I am surrounded
but time is my only
companion

I beg them to understand
but they are not capable
they stare at me
and I stare back
both of us wide-eyed,
wondering, thinking in
our minds:

what savagery
thrives
here
1.4k · Sep 2011
a greater kind of bravery
Overwhelmed Sep 2011
the revolution, or should I say,
the American one, was such a
beautiful time because it was
last era were hope persisted in
this world

though they knew times were
not getting better, they knew
that their children, or the child’s
children, or the child’s children’s
offspring, would one day inherit
the beauty of this world

those men in ***** wigs and
uncomfortable cotton could
believe like few others in
history

sure, some might say the french,
in their coup d’état, had as much
or more vigor as their American
peers, but as I recall, their fervor
would turn on them and consume
them like a fire burning out of
control

some too argue that the generations
following the fathers, those trekking
out the western frontiers, those going
off to the civil, the first, and the second
world wars were just as brave and yes
they were

brave

they were brave indeed
but they were not filled
with hope

they did not expect to win

they expected to die
they expected to fail
to lose, to go down in
history as nothing and
that was enough for
them

but not Washington
not Jefferson,
not Madison,
not Adams,
not Hamilton,
not Franklin.

they weren’t in it for history,
they were in it for the future

for the history
of the day after
tomorrow

they
fought because
they knew
they
could
win

until today this optimism
had died

until today, when I, looking into the
future and seeing nothing, still smile,
there was no one who truly understood
that life is not about living

it is about the lives that go on living
after you
1.4k · Dec 2010
tree of life
Overwhelmed Dec 2010
rising up from the dust
a single shoot,
green with new life,
jumps from the ground
and bounds with the sun

it grows,
quickly first,
changes noticeable daily,
but then slower
as years wear on
and the thick bark develops
on this youthful sprout

after time seeming infinitesimal,
a monkey scurries up it’s side
and as he peaks his head out
of the top of the leaves
he caws that he had conquored
the greatest of all things

so it was then that the tree of life blushed
never knowing the greatness it apparently was
11/28/10
1.4k · Apr 2012
vision
Overwhelmed Apr 2012
black mildew dreams
fill to the brim with *****
bacteria, killed with toxic
drugs and herbal cleansers,
the days are numbered
as the days sink
onward

the cockroaches of defeat
come crawling out to chew
on the corpse of innocence

standing alone,
given up,
no doctor left to cure
the ailments of our
era

this we live with
this we die with

the world crashes as the
sound goes silent

somewhere an alien race
takes its first steps towards
sentience

(god help them)
1.4k · Dec 2010
horoscope readers
Overwhelmed Dec 2010
here’s the thing

nothing’s going to change
because the stars
are aligned some certain
way
or
that he’s or she’s
different
or
that a new year has
started

times are still the same
people are still the same old
fiddly ******* that they were
five minutes ago
and you,
above all
else,
are still the incompetent,
useless ******
you were

when the big apple hits the ground
it just means another day has started

if you wake up each day and do jack-****
your not going to start being an astronaut
just cause the last number on the calendar
changed

and going back to what I started with

that horoscope isn’t going to bring you any luck,
that “perfect” person you just met is probably a
*** offender or just a plain loser,
and as we’ve already discussed,
nothing happens when the calendar
runs out

so you want to know what I think?

**** it.

don’t wait for some special opportunity
to change who you are

don’t make promises or resolutions,
you know you can’t keep

wake up each morning and say
“****,
I’m going to do better
than the **** job
I did yesterday”

do it
and see what
happens

or don’t

go ******* in bed
thinking that “the one”
will come to you
tomorrow

***** around at work
or at school and be oh-so-
confident that you’re going
to make 200k annually in
ten years

read those star logs
and get your palm read
and continue on knowing
that you’re going to be
the hottest **** since
Al Pacino

go on.
do it.

do it  and see what happens.

you worthless *******.
1.3k · Mar 2011
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
1.3k · Jan 2012
sleep
Overwhelmed Jan 2012
I want sleep

sleep is
easy

there’s no
pain in sleep,
no thoughts

I want sleep

easy sleep

sleep
sleep
and
more sleep

I would pay a lifetime’s ransom
for a lifetime’s worth of sleep

I just want to sleep
and that is all

waking is for the brave
and beautifully foolish
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
1.3k · Apr 2011
my legs and feet
Overwhelmed Apr 2011
there is a crusted-
over, nasty-
looking cut
on
my left
knee
from a bike
accident
I had the
other
day

both of my
big toes have
calluses that
size of quarters
on the
inside-back
parts
of
their
undersides

tiny sunburns
from where my
feet stuck
out of
the sand
decorate my left
and right
feet

my pale belly
and legs
seem ever whiter
in comparison
to my sunburnt and
darkening arms

there is somebody
out there who thinks
I am beautiful

how have stayed strong
all these years?

I can see my ugliness,
my scars, and my abrasions
just the same as everybody
else

they are there
they are morbid
and disgusting
they are who
I am and I act
as such

I know exactly why
and how people hate
me

yet

I’ve never faltered

in a hurricane or
the breeze

I am who I am
I say
and nothing more

still stories flutter,
rumors fly, and
I can’t help but
notice the stores
and tales that
circulate

I’m lucky someone
still finds time to look
at me straight

perhaps the strongest of men
are only left with the opportunity
to gain
Overwhelmed Nov 2013
there stands one thousand foot stone walls
on both sides of me, rising into the ceiling
by curving softly like a dancer in motion,
and I walked across polished marble there
to stand before a throne decked in jewels,
and gold and other precious, material things,
but this seat was empty, completely devoid
of life, never having seen to its final purpose.

so I thought, as all mortals do when faced
with great chance, that I might be the end,
that I might be what this beautiful place
was destined to join and become whole,
that this was a sign, a message, a promise
from the will that works beyond the reach
of our eyes that I had found my meaning
just as this place found its calling as well.

this, I believe, is where the story becomes
hazy, for all that I remember is sitting there
for a long time, wondering at the opportunity
I had been given and could not hope to take.
for there stood the ancient kingdom all had
hoped to claim for themselves, and there
stood I, who realized all too late that man
could not hope to own anything but himself.
1.3k · Oct 2012
phone-call
Overwhelmed Oct 2012
the walls rattle
with my voice
as the walls fell
all around us
1.3k · Feb 2011
iron
Overwhelmed Feb 2011
cold,
metallic,
unforgiving,
uncaring,
faceless,
emotionless,
all-know­ing,
all-seeing,
all-saying,
always silent,
always calm,
never lost,
never going anywhere,
never wondering,
never doubting,
unbending,
undulating,
unrelenting
a mirror,
a wall,
a window,
a door,
a hole,
a plug,
a sword,
a shield,
a dagger,
blood,
heart,
brain,
eyes

iron is
and iron
does
and
iron is-

there,
always.

always…

there.
1.3k · Nov 2012
math
Overwhelmed Nov 2012
things don’t have
to add up

love does not equal marriage
death does not equal sadness
life does not equal suffering
and pain does equal fear

in life
and all throughout the universe
there are holes in our equations
that we will never be able to fill

know what can known
and know what can’t
and accept that
things don’t have
to add up
and
most times
they won’t
1.3k · Mar 2011
Victory!
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
I stand atop the mountain,
there atop all my challenges
and tribulations!
I have come past the obstacles!
climbed the steeps hills!
scaled the great heights!
and now I stand and
look down at the world
and yell “I did it!”

I stand atop the mountain,
there atop all my challenges
and tribulations!
I have risen above myself!
against my deep will!
without my addictions
and distractions!
and I made it!
I made it
to the
top!

I stand atop the mountain,
there atop all my challenges
and tribulations
I stand atop the mountain
of victory
looking up
at the worlds
of success
1.2k · Jun 2015
sinking
Overwhelmed Jun 2015
it was pointless to love
like the captain of a drowning vessel
still turning hard to starboard
as he stared into the deep, blue night
and charted a new course home
1.2k · Jan 2011
forgiveness, hear my cry
Overwhelmed Jan 2011
forgiveness,
hear my cry,
as I writhe again
in bed
a spurning of
doubt
fresh in my
mind.

forgiveness,
see me now.
as pathetic as
I have ever
been.
I wonder if sins
really are
punished.

forgiveness,
feel my strife,
is your heart like
stone?
and cannot find
mercy for a man
over-punished?

forgiveness,
smell my fear.
a dank musk
of my being,
no number of bathes
may wash
away

forgiveness,
taste the bitterness of
me
and search your soul
to find some sympathy
and respond to me
at last

why do I hear nothing?
I cry
and still the silence
carries on

forgiveness,
has no cry,
it has a heart,
I know and remember this,
but it is not a lax
judge

forgiveness,
hears my cry,
and shows me a
stone-cold face
in the starry
night

I feel a small tingling
as new thoughts flood
my mind
I see again the boy I
once knew: successful,
happy, and forgiving
of himself
1.2k · Sep 2012
machu picchu
Overwhelmed Sep 2012
all that’s left is ruins
holding within them
the stories of so many

but the jungle barely notices
as her vines begin to reclaim
that which is rightfully hers
1.2k · Mar 2011
a self-induced panic attack
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
this is a test
of my control
over my own
body

the test will begin in
5
4

3


2



1.

I begin to shake
my eyes dilate
nostrils flare
my breath stutters

I’m hurtling towards
the edge

the endless pit
just over the
corner

and I see
coming to me
faster each
second

but as my feet
hit the end of
the cliff

it all stops

my body slows
eyes return to normal
nose sounds silently
breathing is average

the test has concluded
and the results are in
the mail
1.2k · Oct 2010
nighty-night smiles
Overwhelmed Oct 2010
I want to close my eyes
and wake up sixty years
in the future

I will be ninty-five,
aging,
decaying,
but I will be
happy

I will be able to look out at
my children,
my wife,
hell, probably even
my dog
and smile with the memories
they’ll given me over the
years

but as I close my eyes,
for the final time,
drifting into the sleep
I should never awake from,
I will emerge from my rest
a fifteen year-old boy
having only a hazy recollection
of the happiness
that awaits me
one day
1.2k · Oct 2010
masks
Overwhelmed Oct 2010
on the other side
are the people who really exist

the cruel ones
the cold ones
the sadists
the *******
the whiners
the liars
the manipulators  

but we live on this side
the side of faces
and that’s all we see

a face,
that can be
whatever a person
wants it to
be

the hero,
the god,
the winner,
the leader,
the helpful one,
the thoughtful one,
the generous,
the forgiving

are all just an illusion of

the ignorant,
the hateful,
and
the weak.

this side of reality,
is a terrible one,
where nothing is real
and yet
it is the only thing
tangible
holy crap, this became my most read poem overnight. Thanks you guys, it means a lot.
1.2k · Mar 2011
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
1.2k · Jan 2011
blue, yellow, orange, black
Overwhelmed Jan 2011
top to bottom
out the window
sun setting
eyes sighing
another day done
another day done

the colors descending
the day casting shadows
on the night
spindly tree fingers
reach out at the last
glimpses of the sun

good night
good morning
it is has and
was a long
day

the sun sets on the beaches
the sun sets on the forest
the sun sets

good night
good day
good bye

the sun is gone
without a
sound
1.2k · Mar 2011
the bravest man alive
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
he wasn’t a solider
he wasn’t dying of cancer
he didn’t have any great struggle
he didn’t live without even the
most basic necessities of life

he didn’t  do anything honorable
he didn’t make strides in any field
he wasn’t a hero or a god
he was an average guy,
like you or me

his greatest act wasn’t a battle
his greatest success wasn’t in war
his victory wasn’t against other men
his choice wasn’t even conscious

his whole existence was mired in laziness,
his entire world borne of excess and fat,
his brave act, which makes him so great,
was meant to fight against this destructive
norm

he was a man, no,
a boy,
who looked at his brothers,
his friends, his fathers, and
saw pigs, gluttonous animals
meant to live in the mud

he looked to his world and
saw what it had come to:
the mud in a pig pen

and he thought,
not for a long
time, just enough,
and decided that
something was
not right

so from that day forth
he looked to his peers
look at what they did
and told himself:

I will not be like
them anymore
1.2k · Nov 2010
what a strong man wants
Overwhelmed Nov 2010
I could never stand weak women

not after seeing my mother
my sister,
my grandmother,
my role models,
my loves,
and
my lovers.

call it masochistic
but I like my *** kicked,
no one can do it
and that gets
boring

fast

but with the girls I like,
I love,
I give them the
chance
to hurt
and it’s their choice
to do it
or
not

and I hope,
with those girls I like
(I love),
they
don’t
hurt me
but always know they can
and love me
all the more for
it
1.2k · Jul 2010
devil cakes
Overwhelmed Jul 2010
why her?
why again?
why am I doing this?

is this desperation or
truth?

this burgeoning love
that enters my house
in a suave suit but I
see him as an assassin
teeth replaced with
knives, finger taught
on some weapon

does this man enter
my house in honesty,
bringing with him a
word of truth?

does this man enter
my house in deceit
bringing with him a
means to tear down
all I’ve built up since
the last time I expelled
him from this place

we laugh about pancakes,
calling them devil cakes
after the fact that they are
hard as hell to make

but I gaze beyond her face
looking into the eyes of the
man standing behind her,
and wondering what he’s
doing back again
1.2k · Apr 2011
fluttering
Overwhelmed Apr 2011
failure is like a bird
fluttering in and out my
window
singing it’s chirpings
like they were
actual music

his wings are ugly
he has scars and
his feathers are unkempt

there is failure I say
as it flies away
again

it’s not exactly bad
to see him once in a
while but lately I’ve
been seeing him a
little too often for
comfort

but life is has its risks
and if you want to see
the sparrow of success

or

the bluebird of happiness

or even

the vultures
of determination

or

the eagles of
faith

you’ve got to put seed out for all of them

so as the bird of failure
flies away into the void
I spread sunflower seed
and fruit pits hoping that
someday I will see the red
bird of love
1.2k · Apr 2011
grenades
Overwhelmed Apr 2011
spring hits the
country
like a ten-ton truck
screeching
down your street
on its twelve to
eighteen
wheels

the trees burst with new leaves
the flowers bloom and stretch
to the sun
in hallow groves and quiet brooks
life is afoot once again

the backyards and the
lawns ache with their
growth

the new birds chirp with
hunger

the poets
reach
to their pens

still mystified
by this sudden
change

writing down thoughts
as colorful as their
worlds
trying to capture
just what
it’s like
to smell
spring
on
the wind
1.1k · Dec 2010
nightmares/reality
Overwhelmed Dec 2010
at night
before the night has come
when, in bed, I wait
for the sandman’s call
the gears of my mind
turn, lurching from inactivity
and whirl about
sending steam and smoke
everywhere
and my head will hurt
with visions of the future
seeming abysmal
if only for me
for others are happy,
successful, even famous!
but for me,
I am alone,
angry, and forgotten.

this is the nightmare
that returns to me every night
making me pray
that I will not wake up
that I shall die in that dream
that reality should be something better
than that hazy vision

in the morning
when I wake up
from a long night’s battling
with my deepest and best-kept fears
I feel the poison of doubt
draining out of me
into a puddle there
on the floor

and days
and months
and years
and centuries
I refused to clean up that puddle
and each morning it grows larger
always sicklier than before
yet still I do not grab the mop
or vacuum

during the day
I try not to get left alone
that mind
that creates those nightmares
still lurks behind my eyes

it seeks blood,
my blood,
in the form of insanity
because even it knows
that it’s mirages aren’t real
but it knows it can drive me to them
if I am weak enough
and he can convince
me
1.1k · Mar 2011
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
1.1k · Jun 2011
Aqua
Overwhelmed Jun 2011
I open the door to let the cool wet air in
outside is raining with angry summer rain
after many days of heat and sun and work
this welling up and bursting is like myself

let us not forget I am a man full of confidence
I have been infected, as so many young men do,
by the itch to run and jump and be a young man
to live as if I cannot live without running free
and to forget death as a trivial and minor matter

the trees thirst for water and the ground shakes
thunder is no worse than my own realizations

it is easy to forget what you cannot do
the biggest obstacles lack definition
they exist in the realm of wordless voids
where feeling is expressed in feeling
and the blade of the finite is outlawed

I ache for and dream of soaring
but understand my lack of wings

the rain is pitter-patter on my porch
whilst my mind plays the bass drum

it is a simple existence that I live, no?

the water quiets now
my phone rings
it’s her

that makes me happy
knowing it’s still her

knowing she still loves me
still reaches out for me
still thinks about me in the twilight hours
still wants to talk and to ask questions
still feels the need to call

the cool air seeps into my room and my muscles ache
I do not wonder why they do and thus calm my mind
the night seems good tonight, what shall it hold for us?
1.1k · Apr 2012
unborn
Overwhelmed Apr 2012
I realize now,
the futility of
forgiveness

we all want a clean slate,
the washing away of our sins,
but in the end:

we are never clean

you can paint over it,
or wear costumes,
or even spend millions
on special procedures

but it’s all just mask

we live with what’ve done,
each day, we must face the
man we used to be, and the
implications that man has
on the one we are now

(and that’s all that matters)

you can mix in new colors,
but never get rid of the old
ones

that is futility of forgiveness:

we cannot wash away the sins,
cannot wipe the slate clean,
the only solitude is forgetting,
and that, in itself, is flawed

(for the moment comes
when all those memories
come flooding back in)

but we carry on

forgetting or forgiving ourselves
(whatever seems better to you)
and trying to make ourselves
presentable

even with the
knowledge of our past
and future mistakes
1.1k · Mar 2011
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
1.1k · Oct 2011
Solids
Overwhelmed Oct 2011
the world is full
of the definite

the tv sits across the room

if I go to it, hit the power
button, it will turn off

if I stay seated, bother with
the remote, it can change
channels or turn off as
well

or if I do nothing,
nothing will
happen

this is how the universe is

no tricks
no secrets
no conspiracies

even humans aren’t
that complex

they do the same things
over and over and over
and over and over and
over and over again

like stock characters out
of the text book, everyone-
everyone- does things in
a predictable and easily-
understood way

the **** will always **** the dumb-****
guy, the lawyer will **** the innocent,
and our role-models will always let us
down

it’s not new and it never
has been

so I have no sympathy
for those of you who
are surprised

and neither for those
of you determined to
change what the world
is

I’ve already told you:

this is a definite world,
of concrete, unalienable
facts

there is no place for liars
or those convinced there’s
something else going on
than what they can see

there is little place for the deceived
and the blinded

(especially when their eyes
are gouged out by their own
knife)
1.1k · Mar 2011
Lock-heart eyes
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
He stares at me with those
Lock-key eyes
That let nothing out
And fewer things in

He cuts through me with those
Lock-jawed eyes
That are angry like fire
But cool in watery peacefulness

He answers me with those
Lock-heart eyes
That beat on the inside
But are shriveled and black
To me

She whispers this to her journal,
The one I read on her face as I
Stare back with those
Lock-heart eyes
Of mine
1.1k · Mar 2011
Old Friends
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
opportunity
sits in
my
den
and
says
“so what
you
going to do
this time?”

I look at
my pan,
bacon cooking
and sizzling,
and chuckle
him off

“don’t know,
bub”

“haha”
he laughs
“just hope
you don’t *****
it up
like every
other
time”

“yeah”
I say,
despondent,
“me
too”

and I serve
the bacon with
some eggs,
sit down
at the table
looking in at the
den,
and opportunity
watches the evening
news, waiting for
the day's lotto
numbers
1.1k · Mar 2011
dream
Overwhelmed Mar 2011
in the night
I see
her

touching me
hugging me
kissing me

and then she asks
“do you love
me?”

and in the night
I have the confidence
to say yes
as I reach down
with a smile
for another
kiss

but then as our lips touch
the dream breaks
and I am left dazed
in the dark
of my
bed room

I look over at the pillow
I clutch between my arms
and sigh

I close my eyes again
hoping for the dream
to return
1.1k · Sep 2010
the road ahead
Overwhelmed Sep 2010
the road ahead
is one not often
followed

each step I take is original
each path I make is new

the road ahead
is dark with thunder-
heads

and sitting here
now
I grin with
anticipation
1.1k · May 2011
Teeth
Overwhelmed May 2011
She wore a knee-length skirt. I like them a tad shorter but for some reason this didn’t bug me. Her smile was bright and cheery. Her hair looked soft and came down to the top of her back. She was beautiful and her teeth were white and seemed to pop out of her mouth. I liked her a lot.
We decided we wanted Italian. I told her about Acario’s, a good-quality place up the street, and she said that it sounded fantastic. I opened the door for her and we drove away in my car. It wasn’t the nicest one on the market but it went fast. When we got out on the highway I pushed the accelerator to the floor and weaved between traffic. Some girls get nervous when I do this but she seemed to enjoy it. She looked over at me and grinned with those bright teeth. I don’t remember much except those teeth until we got there. I opened the door for her again and held the small of her back as we walked to the door.
There was some native Italians singing in the corner as we sat down. There was very electric light, only candles and occasional flicker as the kitchen doors swung open and shut. The waiter seemed a natural at his job. Sharp clothes, slicked back hair, good smile that didn’t seem full of contempt. He greeted us in Italian but quickly reverted back to a more common tongue when we began asking about their specials. She ordered Rigatoni a la pesto. I ordered Linguine a la Bolognese. We shared a semi-expensive Merlot that the waiter recommended. It was all very good but neither of us ate much. All I could focus on were her teeth. Their movement up and down when she talked. How badly it felt to see them go when she plucked a single piece of pasta into her mouth. We stayed for two hours. I paid the bill and left a generous tip. The waiter seemed grateful but I suspect he gathered this was our first date.
I did not want the evening to end so I asked her if she wanted to go someplace else. She suggested a park about a fifteen-to-twenty minute drive away. We both got into the car and I sped down the highway, looking over when I could to see the white gems she kept tucked behind her lips flare open as I revved the engine.
When we arrived she took my hand and led me to a lake a small ways away. We walked around the lake for a while until we found a bench. It was old and wooden. It had seen many people’s ***** and absorbed the sounds of children calling to their mothers, old women throwing seeds to the birds, and even the sounds of young lovers hungrily snarled in each other’s faces. She sat down quickly and smiled, looking at the quiet waters first and then into my eyes. Her eyes seemed full of life but I could not help to be drawn slightly lower, to the confines of her red rim.
I leaned in for a kiss but she didn’t lean back at first. I opened my eyes and saw her grinning, her teeth seeming to say, “you don’t think I’m that easy do you?”
“No”, I said in my mind, “no you’re not that easy. You know I want you. You know why I like you. Why I desire you. Fine. I’ll earn it. I’ll make you want it. Just come here. Come here once and I’ll win you over.”
I leaned in all the way and got my lips on hers. She didn’t kiss back. She wanted to see me try. She wanted me to impress her. I did everything I could. I moved my lips up and down. I ran my tongue on hers. I touched her teeth for the first time. It lit a fire in me. I fought harder than I ever had. I tried things I didn’t know could be tried. It felt like hours and I think it might’ve been hours but that one kiss was what did it.
When we separated she was still smirking. It was different this time though. She was satisfied, not disappointed. Approving, not taunting. She agreed. She was going to give me a shot.
We finished out the evening. I dropped her off at her house around 4 in the morning. We barely talked the rest of the night. We didn’t hold-hands. We didn’t kiss. I don’t even remember what we did for all that time, but it was wonderful. It was enough for me just to know those white, gleaming, wonderful teeth were mine.
That date led to another, the one after that to another one, that one to a fourth and so on and so forth. Weeks turned to months. Months to years. It was years and years and years it seemed to me. I couldn’t remember the days of the week, the hour, the month, the year. It was all about the next time I got to see those teeth. Until, one day, in the blink of an eye, it was the last time I got to see them again. The last time, the very time they warped to fangs and breathed fire like a dragon upon a now useless play-thing.
A short story, written in the style of Hemmingway (I do not assert I am any good at this).
1.1k · Jan 2011
flood
Overwhelmed Jan 2011
this
must
be
the
waters
built
up
behind
the
frozen
face
now
flyin­g
over
the
Atlantic
back
home
1.1k · Oct 2010
no longer
Overwhelmed Oct 2010
let’s read
ancient tombs
naked
in the afternoon
sun

happy laughs
and witty
comebacks
meant for no
one
at all
will
flow freely
into the warm summer
air
and jump
into the minds
of our smiling
eyes

we are
not aroused
by the bodies, ****,
in front of us
and yet
the love
in between
both
is hotter
than the lust
of a thousand
petty
romances

you pick the camera up,
an old
and nostalgic
thing,
and I change little
when you tell me to
smile
and the shutter
clicks open and
shut

we’ll find
that picture again
later
old and wrinkly
these days
cold
with the wraith
of years

I am smiling
there
and I can’t see
you
but you’re
there
more so than I
am
and
we’ll remember
for once
the warm
youth that at one time
meant something
1.1k · Feb 2012
headliner
Overwhelmed Feb 2012
there was a death in the paper today

an old man was hit by a drunk
going twenty-five over the speed limit
at approximately three fifty-eight
last Saturday night

there was a picture of the old man’s
kids and grandkids and everyone looked
very sad and very touched by this

there was no word
from the drunk’s
family

this story goes good with coffee
and a bit of apple ****

I read the last bit of the story
and head out the door

last I heard,
the drunk is in custody
and cannot make bail
1.1k · Jun 2010
car troubles
Overwhelmed Jun 2010
look out the window
the world speeds by

kayakers in a river
trees in bloom
sky dark
with 10 am
clouds

everything moves faster
then your eyes
can keep
up


a whining baby in an SUV
toxic chemicals in a tanker truck
the suicidal everyman
slink comfortably
in the front seat
of a beige sedan

looking out the window
is all you can do
as the world speeds by you
and you only stand
still
Overwhelmed May 2011
he rises out of cold sands
stone eyes give way to stone
faces
his teeth are rare jewels
yet lack value
or
desire

he disturbs the dunes

silently

he tears cacti
from the ground
by their
roots

he lets
scorpions
hide in
his grainy
skin

his music
is the chirping
of dying
insects

his movements sound
like the evening wind

he travels to the rock pillar
in the desert somewhere,
seeking his answers like a
dog to his home

for years he travels,
shifting through the
sands,
and the desert grows
upon as if he never moved
in the first
place

he will find the place he seeks,
one day,
and he will talk with
snakes about things
snakes do not know
about

his rough lips will quiver
his hard eyes will well
his soft mind will bend
his old hands will clench

he will talk religion
with souls full of
deception
and
make decisions
on the advice of committed
liars

he will go from that place,
head full of answers,
and wander through the sands
until he wears away

and where he finally rests
his mighty shoulders
for the last time
there will stand a simple mark
to say he had once existed
and that he never once
suspected his
murderers
1.1k · Jan 2012
the tar roofers
Overwhelmed Jan 2012
I saw three men on the roof today
and there was another,
with a big beard and a bigger smile,
that oversaw a jerry-rigged machine
making terrible noises
hooked to a white pick-up
that fumed with dark smoke
and smelled of awfulness

they each seemed willing to do what
they must, and happy to do it in fact

three men on a roof
one on the ground
working on this gray
and dreary day

the future seemed simple then
1.1k · Nov 2011
rejection letter
Overwhelmed Nov 2011
it isn’t the first one
I’ve ever gotten

certainly,
not the last

hell, I’ve even been
rejected by these people
before
just at a much earlier
and less shameful
stage

but it still hurts,
those words

“we’re sorry
we’re sure you did your best
better luck next time
there’s no shame in this
again, we’re sorry”

“but you’ll not be moving
on”

sweet bull-****
to make the medicine
go down

that awful elixir of
you ****

sometimes they’re wrong,
sure,
but most of the time
they’re not

most of us aren’t worth
**** and our whole society
is built around telling us
that we’re not

bull-****
to hide the
bull-****

how quant
1.1k · Apr 2012
Good Morning America!
Overwhelmed Apr 2012
Good morning America!
Welcome to another day!

feel free to be yourself
do what you want
follow your dreams
be who you want to be
but be careful now:

be sure you’re being who
you really are

and for god’s sake please
don’t do anything
stupid

or embarrass
us

oh that would be
most dreadful

but anyways-

Good morning America!
Good morning to you!

all you happy-faced,
pale-skinned,
judeo-christian
suckers

I hope you enjoy this day
exactly as we tell you
to
1.1k · May 2010
I admit
Overwhelmed May 2010
I can admit to knowing what alone feels like

I can admit to knowing why I felt alone

I can admit to pushing others away
I can admit to saying no to their love

I can admit to crying in a crowd of people
I can admit to burning a tissue offered for my tears
I can admit to crying more as that tissue burned

I can admit to being petty
I can admit to being brave

I can admit to creating my suffering

I can admit to knowing what alone feels like

I can admit to ending it
I can admit to that once I had the strength of others to fight it off
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