"bloopers" poems
We, the people of this country, in your eyes are:
babblers, bachelors, bafflers, baiters, barkers,
beakers, beaters, brawlers, blamers, beggars,
bloaters, bloopers, bombers, boozers, blunders,
bruisers, bafflers, bluffers, burglars and burners.
That's why you feel compelled to keep your foot on our heads
keep us down, put us down, push us down
subjugate us, belittle us, berate us.
We, the people of this country, in our eyes are:
butlers, bouncers, bakers, buyers, barbers,
cake-makers, delivery-takers, cocktail-shakers,
taxi drivers, cancer survivors, employers and hirers,
music makers, entertainers, window washers, foster takers,
plasterers, carpenters, scaffolders, sparks and builders,
boxers, carers, coaches, tailors, shoe makers,
designers, illustrators, multi-language facilitators,
dog walkers, dog trainers, bikers and cycle couriers,
doctors and nurses and all the emergency services.
We are the People, the reason you are where you are now
you sometimes forget that we exist as people, somehow
locked in your ivory towers with gold plated showers
and MP expenses and investment banker pretenses
this is not theater, its real life drama, its not just a bluff
its time to stand up
and say enough is enough.
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
Perhaps I have stumbled upon the root of insecurity
Of why we judge ourselves so shapely
And shame ourselves into uncertainty
I think that every day we walk around
Comparing ourselves to other people’s performances
We are not granted back stage passes to their behind the scenes
We only see their highlight reel
The cut and pasted snapshots of themselves
That they have chosen to present to the outside world
All of the bloopers and uncut scenes we are only capable of seeing
In ourselves -are in other people, invisible.
It’s not fair.
To compare a perfectly edited version of a person
To another whose flaws are all too visible.
This is why we feel inadequate.
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 6:49 PM UTC
Those looks swallowed me at first glance,
the language of you lips spoke fluent truth ,
with a heart that pumped genuine love,
that shot arrows only cupids could shoot,
I'm so in Love..
Those hands feed charity,
you're so selfless but so selfish when you hold me,
And distance is not distant enough.
To gap us apart from closely,
I'm so in Love..
Your beautiful smile is wide enough ,
it curves up skittle'd rainbows,
that tornado away the smokey clouds,
and turn darkness into halos,
I'm so in Love..
The understanding within your frame of mind,
we turn our pains in to bloopers,
So I picked your Nose full of senses of humor,
that smell like the laugh we'll have throughout our future,
I'm so in love...
With your beliefs and ideologies,
with desires to swim upstream,
That ambition is built in flawlessly,
enough to help encourage my dream.
I'm so In Love..
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 12:47 AM UTC
I have an obsession with flaws.
It’s strange to see what
complete opposite
ends of the spectrum
we stand relevant
to this statement though.
I am the auto-tuned movie track
You're the acoustic.
With myself
my obsession with flaws means
they’re always on my mind,
and I'm at all times thinking
about what I'm doing
to make sure that I am presenting
only my highlight reel.
But with you,
I see your intro to ending to bloopers and behind the scenes
and although
there are faults woven
throughout every scene,
they just make you all the more lovely.
How is it possible to love
every bit of imperfections in the person
you chose to get to know the best,
but with the person you know
inside and out without trying,
every imperfection sticks you more
into a spiderweb of hatred?
I have an obsession with flaws.
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 5:07 PM UTC
As soon as you are gone, my body cries for you to begin again.
My bones remember your weight,
crushing bliss.
Half-spun moments free from thought or care or existing
I am lost, in you.
I am found.
Lover, I do not know whether you are spinning our tale
or unraveling it.
Never has love felt so fragile or unbreakable,
your skillful hands twisting my wishes into ribbons,
leaving them scattered on the floor
next to the denim husks of our discarded selves.
I fear this mistake.
I fear that we will not make it often enough.
Memorizing your outline, I make my provisions for your eventual leave-taking.
Everything must go.
I carry you with me,
escaping into the strange sweetness of your smile.
Poetry is your broad shoulders
turned away from me and feigning sleep.
I do not weep.
Perhaps this is the ending,
slowly fading, credits rolling, riddled with bloopers a casual audience will never see.
Maybe the sum-total of my love for you will be told
in bleary-eyed mornings, wordless hugs on my way out the door.
But Lover, you have forgotten the heart of the one who loves you,
one who knew your soul before your body.
I am gracelessly, unremittingly hopeful
and perhaps this is the darkness that falls just before the phoenix sings,
raising the dawn.
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 11:40 AM UTC
Former CIA Director
John Brennan scathing headlines
Washington Post op-ed sharply
published critical accusations
muted excoriation slams
Commander in Chief
volcanic blatant pathological lying
spews like lava his American
foreign policy boilerplate brazenly
bastardizes by banditry blueprint,
balefully balkanizing beautiful bracketed
booming brady bunch brand,
bests best-buy buffer braking balanced
bastion, bolstered beloved benighted
bequeathed bicameral bipartisan bliss,
Baptizing bacchanalian buffoonish bombast,
betokening bobble-headed Bumstead,
barmy bartered bride bravado, bizarrely
brash brassiness, blindsiding behavior,
beetlebrowed bonehead, bafflingly baldfaced,
bankrupting, blithely bollixing,
bombastically belittling, badmouthing,
banally blasting, banana-boat baseless,
bearish blandishments, beastly boastful
boosterism, bellicosely boorish, bug-eyed,
bighearted, bigoted blathering breeding
blunderbuss bloopers, bewildering
bloodletting bellyache blight,
brazenly being bandying bellwether,
blitzing bourgeoisie balderdash,
balking but beaming barbaric
berserk ballyhoo backbiting,
backslapping backstabbing
blacklisting bromides,
besetting basic bestowed blooming,
Bobbitizing bedeviling beneficial
bulwark bereft badinage, ballistically ballooning
betrayal birthing bedlam.
Jun 2, 2018
Jun 2, 2018 at 6:06 PM UTC
our lives twist and turn
ebb and flow
our past
the knuckles of twigs to branches
the snake of a meandering river
creating lakes,
a hand and a reflection of
current state
there was beauty there -
nervous bodies collapsing
on each other, peacetime
handsaws dividing time
like honorary saints
we harpooned chaotic hopes
and dreams, orphaned our logic,
made love in a tree under glittering
moons
if only it was
so poetic
really, just cannibalistic
lonesome ******
looking for an angry fix
vultures aflutter for a carcass
perhaps that was me
not you, no matter
our magnetic climaxes
of mind and flesh only
bloopers of lives just
begun
now
holding my daughters in these
hands, my hands, smugglers of
truth and lies, i hold blind hope,
whisper conspiracies in their ears:
“the only way to win is forgiveness and love,
religion is a man’s fairytale they’d like you to believe,
the apocalypse will be man’s not god's,
politics is a man’s excuse for action,
love is a man’s lie for ***
poverty is a man’s idea of justice,
war is a deformity of man’s making,
thank god you’re a woman!”
our disfigured past has
changed the genetic genome
of unimportant history, given me voice
and perspective
i can’t be sorry,
for the lies i’ve told,
the love and hate i’ve wrought,
its the greasy yarn of my soul
i weave in a simple shack of promise,
that, they’ll be better than me
i can’t be sorry
May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 4:58 AM UTC
I need a computer, I can not type
Backspace to eliminate mistakes I make
To correct a defect I might have made
So I can drop more lines, more Good or Bad Vibes
I need a pencil, I can not write
erasers to remove bloopers I missed at first sight
To fix any disasters after my hand wrote backward
So I can forget before, and think of what comes after.
Aug 5, 2017
Aug 5, 2017 at 9:47 PM UTC
At 12:32 am,
When my phone is at 19%,
And my teeth hurt,
And I feel proud because I made a
Somewhat-not so-healthy smoothie,
I will remember you.
I will go through the bloopers from our
Old school films;
Don’t worry,
It’s hard to forget memories that make you feel.
It is hard to forget the soreness of laughter
It is hard,
To forget,
The stinging of tears
And as those salty drops roll down my face
I will remember you.
I will pluck each grain of sand
From the hourglass that is me and
I
Will
Watch.
I will listen
to the ghost of gossip
And I will see
the basketball boys again
And I will smell the sweet shampoo of you’re hair
Or maybe it was her hair;
I don’t remember.
It all blends in...
And I will feel the pounding of my steps
As you chase after me up the school stairs.
And we hide in a long lost game of tag
That was so important at the time.
But even as I remember you,
I will forget you.
I won’t quite know,
Which is which anymore.
In 10 years,
Our friendships will be lost.
And the videos I have
Of us being ourselves,
I will not recognize.
Because I am not that person anymore
And I won’t remember,
Why this was so important to me.
Because it won’t be.
“You are too far from perfect to be beautiful,”
You said to me once.
But aren’t we all?
Feb 28, 2018
Feb 28, 2018 at 12:41 AM UTC