"brett" poems
UMMMMMMMMM SAVE US FROM THESE ONLINE KILLERS
UMMMMMMMMM THEY ARE JUST TRYING TO ENJOY THE FUTURE OF TECHNOLOGY
UMMMMMMMMM PLEASE SAVE OUR YOUNG, UMMMMMMM THEY ARE TREATED LIKE TOYS
UMMMMMMMMM STOP THESE INTERNET PREDATORS, UMMMMMM FROM GETTING THEIR WAY WITH VICTIMS
UMMMMMMMMM THE COMPUTER ISN’T A TOY, IT CAN BE DANGEROUS, DON’T LET MY OLD ME, IN ANY OF YOU
I DON’T WANT PEOPLE GETTING ME WRONG UMMMMMMMMM I WANT ANY SIDE OF KIDNAPPER OUT OF ME
UMMMMMMMMM PLEASE COUNCIL BRETT’S FAMILY UMMMMMMMMMM PLEASE COUNCIL BRETT’S FAMILY
UMMMMMMMMM THESE INTERNET PREDATORS MUST BE STOPPED, UMMMMMMMM BURT IT’S HARD TO STOP THEM
UMMMMMMMMM YOUTUBE IS FUN AND UMMMMMMMMM DONE IN THE RIGHT WAY, FACEBOOK IS FUN
UMMMMMMMMM YOUNG DUDES, BE CAREFUL, UMMMMMMM YOUNG DUDES BE CAREFUL
UMMMMMMMMM DON’T MAKE STRANGE FRIENDS, UMMMMMMM CHOOSE YOUR MATES CAREFULLY
UMMMMMMMMMM CAUSE, THIS IS A HORRIBLE EVENT UMMMMMMM HELP GIVE EVERYONE PROPER COMPUTER CLASSES
UMMMMMMMMMM ON HOW TO HAVE FUN ON COMPUTER UMMMMMMM MY DAD WHO DIED AND BORN AGAIN AS ELIZABETH ANN CAMPBELL
UMMMMMMMMMM ALWAYS TRIED TO UNDERSTAND TECHNOLOGY UMMMMMM DON’T LET INNOCENT BOYS BE CAPTURED BY COMPUTER GEEKS
UMMMMMMMMMM NO COMPUTERS ARE FUN, SOCIAL MEDIA IS FUN UMMMMMM BUT PREDATORS ARE DANGEROUS
UMMMMMMMMMM DON’T LET WHAT HAPPENED TO BRETT, HAPPEN TO YOU, UMMMMMMMM TECHNOLOGY IS FUN, UMMMMMMM TECHNOLOGY IS FUN
UMMMMMMMMM BUDDHA ATHENA AND CROBUS, WHO IS ME, TO STOP ONLINE PREDATORS, GET THE HANDS ON OUR YOUNG
UMMMMMMMMM EVEN IF THEY ARE YOUNG THEMSELVES, UMMMMMMMMMM YEAH, BRING US PEACE FROM STUPID PREDATORS
UMMMMMMMMMM I AIN’T COOL TO **** UMMMMMMMMMM LIKE THE MAN DOING BURNOUTS IN THE CARPARK UMMMMMMM IT MIGHT LOOK FUN
UMMMMMMMMMM BUT IT COULD’VE KILLED THAT LADY, UMMMMMMMMMM IS IT REALLY WORTH IT, UMMMMMMMM IS IT REALLY WORTH IT
UMMMMMMMMMMM IS IT REALLY WORTH IT, TO **** FOR TECHNOLOGY, UMMMMMMMMM IT DOESN’T IMPROVE THE WORLD
UMMMMMMMM TO SEE ONLINE PREDATORS, GET THEIR WAY, UMMMMMMMMMM UMMMMMMMMMM UMMMMMMMMMM
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 12:06 AM UTC
As I walked through the apartment door,
I did not expect anything more but comic books and video games
Scattered on the floor.
I felt like I was at a comic book store back down south.
Batman, Superman and the green guy too.
Posted on the walls for all who entered to view.
But I had no idea who the hell they were.
All I knew was that they had powers,
Till Brett gave me the rundown for about an hour.
Batman is a super-rich guy, with a fly ride.
His parents were murdered by an evil guy.
So Batman goes around knocking bad guys out.
For he won’t **** you because of how his parents went out.
Then we have Superman over to my left,
A very fast man, with an “S” on his chest.
He gets dressed in phone booths, then fly’s to save the day.
He’s got x-ray vision, yep right through your shirt.
If you turn around then it’s your skirt.
Then we have my favorite one of them all,
Green lantern with his ring of power.
Making fists and gripping things.
Anything is possible when he’s wearing that ring.
So this is all I got out of my superhero lesson,
They are all really good guys with their own little blessing.
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 6:31 PM UTC
the devil’s eyes are blue ,
from when they made him up in heaven ,
but he keeps his girls like toys,
strewn,
broken
and like dolls, they lay in piles.
you know,
ive always kept my mouth closed ,
and my sharp teeth dulled,
for i have been forced to wear a smile
to cover up each bruise .
so how come,
when
he looks at her like a dog ,
you all just let him bite?
do you think he ever kissed his wife’s wounds?
because
you know, we know that you men all kiss his,
right?
Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 7:39 PM UTC
when i was a little girl -
i believed my daddy was the smartest man in the world.
he knew everything. everything.
if i had a question, daddy had an answer, and a good one.
always.
his degree was in biology,
but he preached from a pulpit every sunday.
his friends, colleagues, congregation, all knew him as Pastor Brett.
to me he was just daddy -
and he was the smartest man in the world.
on days when i couldn't understand my own head,
(which were, and still are, very often)
and got frustrated with myself to the point of tears,
he would kiss my cheeks and promise me i wasn't stupid.
and coming from him, the smartest man i knew, that meant the world.
as years passed and i grew, my naivety remained with me,
and so i thought i was too smart to fall into life's traps.
i fell. i fell fast. i fell hard. i fell often. and i shattered.
each time, the smartest man in the world picked up my pieces
and reassured me i was still welcome in his home.
he never loved me any less, much to my bewilderment.
however, as my faults increased in frequency and severity,
he picked up my pieces now with weathered hands and weary eyes.
his smile was weaker, and a deep pain stirred in the chocolate irises behind his wire-rimmed glasses.
my deception morphed into vines that constricted and twisted and choked out the truth.
he poured out his love onto an underserving me, and said that God would still forgive.
but i, daughter of the smartest man in the world, am a fool.
and by my own two hands, i continued to sink.
he leaves me to pick up my own pieces now, not loving me any less,
but too weak, too exasperated, too heartbroken to do it himself as he always had.
he is done. he loves me and i know it. he shows it. but he is done.
my tears bore him. my half-true stories and pitiful excuses move in one ear and out the other.
he is stone-faced, no longer shocked by my confessions so i leave them unspoken.
his kisses, sear my flesh. his love burns because i know i don't deserve a single shred of it.
i wish he hated me. i wish we could fight. that would make things easier, right?
but he won't. he just won't. he loves me so much and i can't stand it.
but he is done. i broke my father, and his heart, for nothing.
he asked me why i do the things i do,
why i don't just stop it. why i keep on hurting him and my mother.
i didn't have an answer. all i had to offer the smartest man in the world,
was a dry mouth and empty hands.
m.f.
Sep 7, 2013
Sep 7, 2013 at 12:05 AM UTC
but I am a different
kind of adventurous.
even if I only dance with
others, or hit whistle notes
with Brett, even if Joe's the
only one I'd kiss without
a single regret
I love long car rides, I'll
take your shift, I'll let
you sleep an extra two hours
I love the smell of sunscreen
and graham crackers and how I've been
sitting in these shorts for too
long that there has to be
a sweat stain.
I don't know, have you ever had
cheetos at a rest-stop before Modesto?
We'd make it to Santa Cruz on time.
I may not climb the Himalaya's with
you, or go to Paraguay because I'm
afraid of chronic diarrhea, but I am
so much more than my fears.
Have you ever had cheetos at a rest-stop before Modesto?
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 10:59 PM UTC
I'm a bit like Brett I like my beer, Senator Feinstein,
Ha. Your name has stein in it,
thats like a beer mug, i dont have blackouts from beer drinking.
It's the lack of that makes me forget.
I don't remember much of this morning.
Went to work got some **** done, I
Don't think I molested any women,
But it's all foggy. I remember going into DG after work. They got 15 packs for 6.95.
Cept I vaguely recall creeping out. They were
Out. Until i found three of them white boxes with red and blue lettering an A
With wings insignia I'd tucked in
A corner of the store behind cases of
Heinekens, out of my league drink,
For just this situation.
******* patriotic
Almost. I think it's doing my part to support this free-market capitalistic
Economy. Like paying taxes.
Better than voting.
So you all can impune Kavanaughs
Character all you want.
I like beer so do he. So.
Back to me.
I couldn't wait for one.
I'd put six in the freezer.
And it had been ten minutes.
I drank it lukewarm.
And my memory came back.
The fog cleared. Oh yeah, his problem
Isn't that he loves beer
Like I do, it's that he was a punk upper class white dude who
Pushed around young girls, laughed while he felt them up,
Thought he was entitled to.
That's over the line, even for Republicans.
You are not like my justice.
I am a justice of peace and integrity.
Go drink beer,
BRETT, JUST NOT ON THE SUPREME COURT.
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 6:20 PM UTC
Brett was a great person to have around
Always in a cheerful mood, rarely did he frown
He was a great friend of mine and to all he knew
This is a stark reminder that life is too short and can end too soon
Time with loved ones is often taken for granted
While looking through life’s busy lens, time becomes slanted
It’s easy to let the months go by
And before you know it, you don’t get the chance to say good bye
Brett’s name, legacy of kindness, brotherhood, and positivity will be carried on
He may no longer be with us in physical form, but in our hearts, he will never be gone
Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 1:39 AM UTC
this time, when i went
to meet Death at his place,
he showed signs of weakness.
he was watching a cricket match
relaxing in his arm chair, legs stretched.
yawns kept rolling
in slow progression
towards the boundary.
'are you well?’ i ventured.
'nothing wrong,’ said he.
stammering, i quizzed him:
which one do you fear most?
allopathy, ayurveda, or
homeopathy?
dear wilson,
have you observed sachin
facing the ***** of shane warne?
brian lara, wasim akram?
chris gail, brett lee?
i was thrown into confusion.
death admitted, unwillingly,
that like vivian richards
confronted narendra hirwani,
he was laid low by the
secret herb
of an old tribal man!
aaha! the panacea
became then
a spin ball!
(aaha…Nothing official about it!)
i forgot to ask
how our people
smuggled away by him
were faring now.
he forgot to comment
“you will see for yourself
when you face it.”
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 9:14 AM UTC
Despite multiple accusations
Of ****** impropriety,
Trump still demonstrates
A false display of piety.
He knows his loyal fans out there
Would never, ever truly deceive him.
He denies whatever he wants
And they will all believe him.
Justice Brett Kavanaugh
Aspires for both fame and glory.
Somehow he got people to
Give credence to his manicured story.
Following Trump's slick advice,
He thought, "Hey, why not try it?
Whatever they accuse me of,
I will out-and-out deny it."
Putin said he hadn't meddled
In our twenty sixteen elections.
Although we know that Internet trolls
Were following his cunning directions.
Putin merely had to say,
"Mr. Trump, I did not do it."
That is all that Trump needed
To say to the world, "You see: I knew it."
Trump asked the Saudi king
If he had had a journalist killed
In Istanbul. That is where
Jamal Khashoggi's blood had been spilled.
The king and prince denied it. Trump,
Satisfied, said, "You see:
The king said they didn't do it.
His denial's enough for me."
Just deny whatever you've done.
That's the message we are getting.
Having to pay consequences
Can stifle your plans and be upsetting.
Just deny it, and you will have
All of your fans believing your tale.
Turn them all against the victim
To save your *** and stay out of jail.
-by Bob B (10-16-18)
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 1:29 PM UTC
On a busy day,
A floor unkept.
“What’s this woman doing?”
Said Mr. Baker Brett.
With no delay came she,
Hair running below her knees,
Cleant the place
And served him his morning tea.
The innocent kid
Stood in the aisle
With a face devoid of smiles
And fiery eyes.
The struggles of this woman,
He dare not say!
He made a fist.
When the clock struck eight,
He picked up his satchel
And looked at his sister play.
She received no formal education
And was to stay that way.
The struggles that she may face,
He dare not say!
He held his anger in,
And walked away.
Time will pass and
His beard will go grey.
To his curious daughter,
What will he say?
That she ought not
To get educated?
To be slave to an unknown man?
He contemplated.
Wild wild, rage. He must
Burst out today.
He shook off the bad dream
And so will they.
Apr 25, 2023
Apr 25, 2023 at 11:15 AM UTC
the raiders show, full time report, 21 march 2015, we ****
as we draw the final curtain, the raiders **** again
it was a great start but then they faded away
just like they usually do
you see the raiders were woeful, especially in the 2nd half
no i am discusted oh yeah
it was the worst match, back to the old drawing board
johnny’ thanks and what a woeful performance in the end, by the raiders, and it actually is a hard
job picking the raider of the match, only one raider scored in the second half, but here is sue longways
with the raider of the match, horrible effort
sue’ yeah, johnny, it was a horrible effort but the raider of the match goes to brett austin, now brett what went wrong
brett’ well, sue, we were woeful in that second half, and the dragons were just too good
sue’ yeah, were you thinking victory, at half time, maybe too over confident so to speak
brett’ yeah, maybe we were over confident in the first half, but the dragons got 8 points before the break, and
then another 14, well, anyway, terrible match
sue’ anyway here is the raider of the match medallion, congrats and now here is bob from gordon
bob’ and now we draw the final curtain, the raiders **** again
it was a really terrible game, buddy a terrible match for the raiders team
yeah the raider, ya know they do **** it was a woeful game
what happened to the hopeless raiders, ya know the raiders ****
what is wrong with the mighty raiders, they didn’t look so mighty tonight
why couldn’t the raiders win it, i think it’s just that their hopeless
sue’ and now here is johnny brown with his jingle, not our johnny brown, johnny from duffy
johnny’ we are on the rocking horse caused by the raiders losing
you see we rocked all day long
they are sitting on the rocking horse, all day long, my love
i wished our raiders won
you see, the raiders had a bad match, good start, but hopeless finish
really the raiders faded, yeah, what a woeful effort, yeah woeful effort woeful effort yeah mate ****** yeah
sue’ thanks johnny brown, and now back to our johnny brown
johnny’ thanks sue, that was a terrible match and to make matters much worst, we play the roosters next game
and i say, we’ll lose to the roosters next week and here is micheal with his jingle
micheal, go the dragons, we kicked some ****** ***
go dragons, we showed some fucken class
yeah the mighty st george, oh yeah, yeah they were great in the end
go dragons kick some ****** *** go dragons, show some ****** class
go the dragons go the dragons, dragons won true blue, GO DRAGONS
johnny’ ok now everybody it’s beer o’clock and the raiders were given a football lesson, a rootball lesson
and we have the reason to give canberra much credit, except for the first 18 points
CATCH YA NEXT TIME raiders show fans
DRAGONS OVER RAIDERS 22 - 20
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 4:52 AM UTC
Lost in the fumes of a cloudy exhale
I search for a glimpse of myself in grimy water.
My remains are scattered somewhere
between boyhood and gutter trash.
The present is hardly of concern
when the blankets of mud offer such astounding
silence.
This swamp was flooded with the prosperity of quitters.
-
The face of the street I grew up on
has been radically warped and distorted.
Leave a good thing to the elements long enough
and you’ll see it begin to degrade.
Dust gathers and mold begins to creep in
from the moisture lingering in the air.
It happens to our childhood toys
just as easily as it happens to the people we know.
-
Everything still holds the same shape;
the same structure that casts a shadow in memory,
it’s just that now the cosmetics have worn off
and you can see the tired lines start to show.
You can hear the creak of arthritic wooden steps
to front porches where old kin with liver spots
sit and drink a shared Ice House 40 oz. while spitting into the wind.
Cavities from a candy coated childhood.
-
There are strangers in my old home,
that place where my uncle lives
surrounded by VHS tapes, pictures of Brett Favre,
and reminders of dead cockatiels.
The biggest struggle is trying to recall
if he was always this way,
or did it take a forty year dope binge
for the hoarder to finally stir?
-
I wrote my name in the sidewalk at the foot of steps.
I search for a glimpse of myself in grimy water
and check under the bushes for garter snakes .
My stomping grounds have been wiped of footprints
and grandma’s violets don’t come in very well anymore.
They cut down the walnut tree, and got rid of the porch swing.
No time for whimsy, no time for strays.
The cicadas will sleep for ten more years, ‘til summer.
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 3:57 AM UTC
sports fan, sports fan
have you heard
Brett is ******
for gettin the bird
he hit a shot
clear outta da Bronx
the Yankee's lost
and raised a point
about pine tar
pine tar on the bat
too much sap
ain't where its at
George broke a rule
by an inch or so
so the ump took back
Brett's big blow
a royal frenzy
soon broke out
they took Brett's stick
the fan did shout
Pine Tar, Pine Tar
on the bat
you wipe too much
you can't do that
Youtube Video:
Pine Tar Game
jbm
Oakland
9/15/88
Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 10:20 PM UTC
The cigarette burns aren't fading
only become less painful and more scabbed over.
When I first saw her, I was happy, please understand.
I saw her entering the cafe from my position opposite the door.
Brett Shady was playing the center of the room but my attention was not on him, not entirely.
She and her boyfriend took the only standing room still available in the far corner.
I'm not sure if she saw me but I think she did.
I think she kissed her boyfriend after she first saw me, which is fine.
I would have done the same, had our rolls been reversed.
After a few more songs I could no longer bear it. I stepped
outside.
I walked two blocks up the rode from the cafe to Bonanza Market.
I bought a pack of cigarettes and walked even further up the hill.
There, I found my favorite spot, one which I had found with a dear friend.
There is a swing hanging under a big tree, surrounded by flowers.
I must have went through half the pack before deciding to move on.
I figured I'd catch the rest of the show from the door.
Walking back however, something caught my eye.
A play was just beginning at the Nevada Theatre and I heard it was semi decent.
I snuck in through the side as I had done many times before and took my seat.
On stage, performing a small girl was another girl who I had kissed.
Who I loved.
When I first saw her I think she saw me too.
I looked down feeling a tear in my eye.
When I looked up I was sure.
She was looking at me with a sort of pleasant smile on my face.
As if she'd known what I was feeling.
The regret, the sadness, the longing.
All these things came rushing up inside me so quickly that I had to leave.
I again went to my favorite spot and finished the pack, saving a few cigarettes for that night.
Oh God, how I would need them.
I walked back to maybe see the end of Brett Shady's set. The show was over however.
Walking out was a friend of mine who I had not spoken to in a while. I waved her down and we began talking. About what I remember not. But it took my mind off things.
A while after a girl I had onced kissed and had once kissed me walked out of the cafe with her boyfriend.
She smiled at the friend I was with, not sparing me a glance.
My friend turned to me
"How could you let her go, Nolan? Why would you let her go?''
I turned my back to her and began walking.
Two or maybe three ours later I arrived home, all my tears shed.
I didn't sleep that night.
The face of the girl and her boyfriend came flooding into my dreams as the tears had off my face.
The face of the girl on stage came flooding into my mind as the nicotine had done my blood.
Regret was sharing my bed that night.
Whispering in my ear accusingly "How could you have let her go?"
Pain was in my room that night.
Roughly fondling my heart as if it were a stone.
Sadness was kissing my mouth that night.
Only allowing whimpers to come out.
Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 11:10 PM UTC
With our backs to her bed,
Lady Brett and I had a picture
taken and sent--
our chance: then--
brief and spent,
oh how my fingers
went fidgeting,
begging for a start
or
an end--
from time to time
they still do,
when I drink the milky
skin of fabricated twin--
In sighing, cracked parking lot,
lit by tired moon--
Lady Brett glanced over shoulder
as I cashed kiss,
turned and fled--
a weary drive
lit by bent cigarettes
and a whispered,
"goodbye lioness."
I long to transfuse
Lady Brett's cynical spine
with two bottles of wine--
an evening in ether,
a ballroom bedroom heater,
until all yesterdays
discard,
carried by wind,
obliterated in sawmill,
scatter across new babes,
seed,
a lesson in imminent sin.
But Lady Brett
and I,
will scheme more than abide
will degrade more than refine
will die more than find
fruition--
all our ashy, planned action--
a century apart,
125-miles too soon.
May 15, 2011
May 15, 2011 at 5:51 PM UTC
Brett Jones has a book called
White and Society.
How funny he is,
What a subversive rebel man.
Can he sing the songs that make him sound so plastic,
and break them over again like the glass humor he embodies?
White and Society is a trace title.
It should live up to its apparent suspicions.
How lovely to think of it as a pop up book,
Imposing constructions before your eyes.
Aug 5, 2011
Aug 5, 2011 at 7:07 PM UTC
there are ants crawling in and out of my hollow eyes
they're having a picnic inside of my skull
they've invited all of their cousins and brothers and sisters
aunt kenneth is punching holes in my rotting brain
because her hormones are out of balance after the operation
rambunctious young twins cassie and brett just knocked over the potato salad which intermingles with the mush in my head
did you hear?
yoana eloped with a beetle
left her ailing mother all alone to raise two kids
and she's just shown up all alone with a dismal pack of beer and a sagging demeanor to show for herself
sandra says that her lover must have left her
and who did she think she was,
leaving everything she's ever known
and now she's come crawling back--
back to my rotting skull
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 6:08 PM UTC
[v;1]
Spiraling towards the ground again
Worst place that I’ve ever been
Tearing through the floor to start
The battle; the worst part.
But here he comes,
The solution to my problem.
And here he stands,
The ke$ha to my bass drum.
[chorus;]
And brett,
A five letter word may seem so simple.
But brett,
You’re my savior when I’m feeling down,
You turn my whole world upside down,
Oh brett,
Never leave my side. : )
[repeat chorus]
[v;2]
He always knows just what to say,
Always just to make my day.
And when my tears start to fall,
He finds a way to change it all.
And here he comes,
My superhero.
And here he stands,
The pick to my fro. :P
[repeat chorus x2]
Oh, brett,
Never leave my side. : )
Jul 12, 2010
Jul 12, 2010 at 2:01 PM UTC
I forget I've lost a friend...
The times we vented, laughed and weeped, you heard me..
Watched me grow into who I am
But not who I'll be..
Time froze that morning.
I'm still going to see you again, I know you'll walk through that door
But I guess that was it, you ain't here no more
Part of me died that morning.
The part I was when near you
The part I loved to brag about
The part I loved full stop
Puts me at ease to know it's just for now not forever
Till next time Brett...
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 8:33 AM UTC
all the lights were out with the
exception of one orange creme
porch light weakly splayed through
the sliding glass door and it made
your face look like the purest
pastel I've ever seen in my life--
a-not-quite-brown but not-quite-yellow
and it moved across your lips when you
spoke, touched your tongue when you
paused and looked good on everyone on
the 1st floor of your parent's house
probably because i was delirious
and your dad had just driven 3 hours
in new years traffic to come pick us up
in downtown Seattle after your car took
its last breaths and we lost Joe as a friend for
the next
two years.
today
i finished the diary I started
on January 1st, 2014 at your
house before anyone was up
and I had fallen asleep in the
chunky gold necklace from
the night before, tucked into
the couch with my feet stuffed
beneath Brett's thighs, listening
to her voice--and Christina's and
Josh's and also my own startling
contributions in rhythmic breathing--
at some point you whispered that I was
sleeping (only half-true) because this
particular moment was insignificant
but happens to be one of the only things
i remember
that pastel color and making tea
the next morning wondering how
far away i'd be in ten seconds
and here I am,
here i am.
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 8:56 PM UTC
I regret to inform you that your lawfully, wedded boyfriend, Robert Cohn, no longer want to be lawful, wedded, or your boyfriend. He'd much rather be ******** Brett and writing books about what she tells him behind closed doors
Sincerely,
Jake Barnes
Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 5:44 PM UTC
My Reportage for 10/8/2018
When I was a child, my mother and the neighbors
would sit on the front stoop and gossip
about current events: ones would pretend
to be reading her book, but ones ears were like
cable vision indoor satellite: broadcasting
Christine Blasey Ford and Judge Brett Kavanaugh
Stirs up a lot in me this past week
About my childhood memories,
I felt unnerves, about topics that old folks chat about back then:
I remember the villains, child *** predators and ****** fathers
the child's entrapment and powerlessness era in our small village
Where the old folks buried the secrets under the rugs
And prayer about it on Sunday morn
Flashing back to those stories,
too often is nerve wrecking
I called them the gossiping sundown moments:
Shilling was a clone of Brett Kavanaugh: he drank and he forgets:
**How happy is the blameless vestal's lot! /
The world forgetting, by the world forgot. /
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! /
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd
'Eloisa to Abelard', Alexander Pope**
Those gossiping sundown moments,
Never dies when it enters the ears of a heedful child:
I was always one of those children,
Who was so careful about stranger’s looks?
the friendlier the neighbors sweet talk tones
I would take off with speed like the swarm drone
Odd! but that was all it took:
**All emotions, even those that are suppressed and unexpressed, have physical effects. Unexpressed emotions tend to stay in the body like small ticking time bombs—they are illnesses in incubation.”
― Marilyn Van M. Derbur,**
:
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 11:00 AM UTC
2014 started with
Brett's car breaking
down on I-25, 45 minutes
before new years, and me,
giving the bird to everyone
on the shoulder of the exit
ramp, mad that Joe ditched
us to smoke, (but we didn't
know you'd be so hurt)
(I almost kissed you)
(then told you)
and April was barely
a thought, February a
single sentence, a moment
of silence for the love I still
had for you drowned in 8oz
of milk and espresso
straight into October,
November, December
there's still no tree but
this house couldn't
feel any less empty
nobody notices but
I've tied my anchors
to the construct of
time and we're
weighed in at
6pm, stopped
the clock like
a Havisham
where do I
begin, where
do I begin?
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 10:36 PM UTC
Do you ever feel the innocence slip
away from every corner till
the last bit you knew was gone
the last bit that wasn't yours to preserve
wasn't yours to protect
wasn't yours to keep
as if the one person you tried to save
couldn't be saved
couldn't be saved
couldn't be saved
Sep 1, 2012
Sep 1, 2012 at 3:20 PM UTC