"ambitiousness" poems
Patio umbrella waving like a fan
Beer numbing my face, nightly planned
I hear broken music from an ice cream truck
I hear the thunder as it struck
Almost like a demented fairytale plucked from my imagination
God's ****** up creation
A gorgeous mess with a yellow and pink sunset dress
Slowly, we watch night
The look lies as the heat hugs tight
The smell of peppermint suffocating memories
You take another sip and try to remind yourself to live
To bad your kindergarten ambitiousness ended in a bottle with lipstick stuck to the rim
Jul 28, 2016
Jul 28, 2016 at 11:47 PM UTC
Crossroads are a particular
kind of place where mythology
and actuality combine,
mix and dance with your shadow.
Limitlessness has a name
and social security number
in your restlessness
and your ambitiousness.
I've performed in cafes and on street corners,
In bookshops and depots,
woods and public restrooms
with the junkyard profits
desperately clutching to my clothes,
refusing my money
but begging for my love.
But now I am at the crossroads.
The smoke from my soul
comes in, forces me to turn around,
turn around turn around,
and see the faces,
so many different faces,
all those who have
loved me,
mocked me,
befriended me,
mentored,
hated,
changed
maimed
spit in my eye
called me what they thought I was.
So many faces.
So many eyes full of dreams and ire.
How many would I come to know again?
Who would become fortune tellers
blues-men
teachers
cops preachers
mathematicians builders destroyers
soldiers of fortune
businessmen liars or junkyard prophets?
Who will become like smoke in the fog,
slightly hazy lost-boys
off to never-never land,
never to be seen or heard from
except for the cries that whisper
the time?
So many faces.
What will I be to them?
A companion
friend
liar
hater
lover
brother
sideshow
an I knew him when
a face that looks at their back
at the crossroads,
a wisp of smoke?
I turn again,
turn turn,
a cymbal shot
pushes me forward,
left and right,
but I can never go back behind.
Johanna whispers
Even salvation must get old.
I know she must be correct,
at least as far as I can turn my head.
The right is barred,
the left is guarded by the beasts,
the faces hum a dirge or a lullaby,
I straighten my jacket,
pack my self into a slip bag,
and blow away with the smoke.
Apr 16, 2011
Apr 16, 2011 at 11:44 AM UTC
Lately
I wear matching socks
On my feet
Ending at the ankle
Not at the knee
Where they used to be.
Laundry clean
All dishes sparkling
My apartments pristine
My car windshield bug-free
Not a single fast food wrapper
In the passenger seat
and my gas gauge never falls below
Half empty.
I no longer find enjoyment in
My life mirroring a circus
Everything has a place
And is fully fulfilling its purpose.
Most take my orderliness
As ambitiousness
A testament to
My diligence
When it's simply a need
For my life and mind to be
An antithesis.
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 1:16 PM UTC
Why did you struggle,
Why did you push?
Thin stemmed ambitiousness
And white petal innocence
Arisen to bring hope to me,
As I wander on my midnight walk.
Walk until my legs sting with cold.
Walk to put some air back inside me.
I am seeking a thrilling happiness,
Or anything to set me on my way.
Walk to forget what disappoints me.
Peering in the windows,
Of homes warm and bright
Where people chat and laugh
In envy, I long to come inside.
I am seeking a thrilling happiness,
Or anything to set me on my way.
Nov 12, 2010
Nov 12, 2010 at 7:23 PM UTC
Some days, being me is a burden.
Not onto others, but onto myself.
Those around me do not respect me.
But when they seek memories of better times,
I will be the one they ask to speak.
Education was a tool intent on developing me,
instead it became the ropes that bind me to my family.
These ropes latch me to a home I have outgrown,
but no one allows me to leave.
Instead of vindication
I have found desperation.
Those who know me speak fondly
of my aspirations, but do not realize
that their praise weighs more than,
the stone god was unable to budge.
I lie to you -
true agony is not shelved upon by others,
it is the listless illusions I pander to myself.
The ambitiousness of decision making
and feeling that any course directed by my own hand
will end wastefully.
Sep 26, 2019
Sep 26, 2019 at 7:44 AM UTC