Heroes never try too hard
A gentleman gives up
A lady shouldn't be so bothered
Take a bow, pathetic one
*This is your closeup

It’s a struggle waking up everyday
It’s a struggle having to smile
It’s a struggle to hold back familiar tears
I’m tired of living a lie

I entertain these bizarre thoughts
Dreams and scenarios in my head
Such a mess, such confusion
The same thing over and over again

I wish I could stop obsessing
I wish I actually had a life
God, I wish I could let you go
And finally cut all ties

But in reality, I know what I’ll do
It’s gonna be hard to closeup
I’m sick of always having around
You’re just a toy I’ll never give up

It’s been two decades and I’m still sweating out this fever

My eyes haven’t stopped watering since my family tree fell over,
branch by branch we collapsed into the river,
rushing faster and faster to mutually assured destruction,
no one is getting out alive here

No one is getting out alive here in this world,
so we might as well get it while the going is going because one day the going is going to stop and we’ll be left holding on to as much as we can,
We’ll feel so sorry for ourselves then

I’ve walked with snakes on my shoulders for as long as I can remember,
All my hearing has amounted to hisses,
and all of my bones have broken to bend and expand to hold all of the feelings I’ve eaten

Made love with the ****** and prayed to every angel I’ve seen in my paralysis,
In my dreams I see flowers,
Red like blood,
but clean like a mended heart,
Slowly but surely I’ll likely tear myself apart

But I like it like this,
It gives me a reason to wonder,
and wander,
So I’ll continue to wonder,
and wander

We all just drink to get drunk,
We’re all just ghosts without a house to haunt,
I’ve been feeling this sickness creep up into my throat,
and it’s been drying to get out, and I think I’ll let it

I’m still learning what falling in love feels like,
Still coming to grips with realities that don’t involve bruised eyelids and unforgivable I told you so’s,
Sometimes it feels like I’m coming to the end of my rope but then it frays all over again and I’m stuck trying to wind it back up,
How selfish to think I can fix something that’s too broken

Cut to my grandmother getting dolled up for her closeup because the church taught her how to become her own messiah, now she doesn’t know how to love the right way,
I’m starting to think that none of us do

I’m starting to run with the wolves,
The moon speaks in tongues to me,
I keep asking her to take me back where I belong,
Every painting hanging in my room is blank,
Blank and powerful,
but afraid,
I’m starting to think we all are

I’ve been sweating everything out,
It’s taking longer than I want it to

I just hope that by the time I’m laying on my deathbed,
I’ll be as dry as this all bled me

All my candle wax has gone down half way
In two days
When there lit I'm in such a daze

There aroma is sweet
They help me cheat
Cheat my way through life, I close my eyes under my sheet
And pretend I'm roaming the streets

Its scent intoxicates
I take the bait

Willingly
Chillingly

I'm in the world I want
Oh and trust me it taunts

I think about changing my life when I wake up
But, I know I will just closeup

In this dream land

I speak
I don't seem weak

But I come back to my senses
I throw the sheets off of me, I look around, there are my imaginary fences

I blow out my candles

I say farewell
Now back to my life, mind, that I call hell

The first time in my life, I start turning the lens back into the dreams. Point the telescope a full 180 away from the moon, so the moon can see a **** good closeup of the craters on my face.
I go to sleep
                                         asking for it.

My dearest demons, tear me apart. I am ready to die. I have done everything I could...

And here you come:
                                   traipsing down the stairway to heaven, stepping extra hard
on the creaky ones.

I think it reminds you of the way I used to whine for you.

To you. My dear. MY dear.
                                              Help me God, I whisper into your ear as you     sleep,
                                              Hoping you would wake up in my dreams and save me,
                                              How the hell could a person ever feel so ******* weak.

A bitter branch, that wanted to be a tree trunk. That tried to become enormous.
That only got cut down in the end.

That's how I feel. Not what I am.
Part of the poem, not of the slam.
Separate worlds inside one room.
Wanting to capture the flower in bloom.

Enormous tree, watered regularly by the gardening company hired by the     CEO
of the real-estate company.

The only company I really have in this lonely lake of scheduled sprinklers
are gardeners giving me much more than thanks.

They cut my branches. My unsightly twigs are mulched. I share my tears with them. They take a lunch break. We're going pretty steady.
Day in. Day out. Day in. Day out. Tick tock. Lub Lub. Goodnight. Help-

is not afraid of anything
not insects, crawling biting things
not mountain tops, from many fall
not heights, though very tall
not grizzly bears with claws so sharp
not steep and rocky dangerous scarps
not loneliness, although it hurts
not being stranded in dry deserts
not getting lost or feeling pain
not being stuck out in the rain
not being giving up upon
not staying awake until the dawn
not fighting or losing a good friend
not reaching her untimely end
not falling and scraping herself up
not being seen from very closeup
not losing her family or losing her phone
not living or dying completely alone
not being made out as a fool
is not afraid of anything
but you.

I'll be Norma because I'm
an Old Soul,
and you'll be Joe just because
you're Joe.
However, I would
never shoot you
in my pool.
I love you enough to
let you chase after Bettys
because I know
I'm crazy like Norma Desmond
a lot of the time
and that is just not good for you.
I'm never ready for my closeup,
******.
I don't have a pool either.

A river of scents and cymbals, a closeup look at tomorrow
the land and people borrow, collaborating hymnals

Stayed inside the darkness, somewhere in there is light
sensations are like coasters,  before peace there is a fight

Paths beaten for understanding, on an imaginary cutting edge
manufacturing mental landings, between the visions there is a wedge

Impromptu races can teach us how to deceive
decoys in the mind show us what to retrieve
a blind world will never know how to conceive
a gemlike planet and a pressure relieve

I'm starting to wonder,
If you ever cared.
Beneath your smile is there something under?
Am I just a huge burden you endured.
You used to be the best in my eyes
But now you're different.
There's something you're trying to disguise.
You no longer show any sign of interest.
I know I'm annoying to everyone.
You can leave if you want to,
Leave what has already been done.
You can exit without leaving a clue
Because I won't be chasing after you,
I'm busy picking myself up
The pain I've been put through
The scars are hidden unless you go closeup
Wounds wil always heal
But scars are there forever.
It may sound surreal
But there is no error.

Paralyzed
Got things to do

Got to make myself care
Got to make my limbs move

Taking the next step
Operating
Motivating
No more waiting

I am numb
 But there's an underlying dread
An underlying nausea
A sense that something is ...off

  Something needs tightening
  Something is stuck
  
  Something is bent
  Something's not right

Polish it up
Tighten the fasteners
Grease the hinges
Straighten what's bent

Scrape off the contacts
Re-flow the cracks
Moisten my lips
Take a deep breath
(From down in the belly)

Try to articulate
Try to be calm
Take a step back
Take a step back

Deflated, spent, and numb
The thrumming of the drum
Will keep my unwilling feet moving task-ward
Closeup on upturned thumb.

I loved you
You didn't feel the same
You were acting like you did to
It was all a big game
Yet you continued to play
With the strings of my heart
And when I lay
With you, I was falling apart

I continued to see where things would end up
But nothing came from it
And in the end I saw it closeup
You where a lying *******!

Odd standing alone
Before becoming
One of them

Their gathering looks
Warm from the outside
Will I become singed
When leaning into the
Friction they generate
Trying to hide
From each other

Being with them feels
Like I might
Shed some armor
And give up
That loneliness
Of staying outside looking in

Each one is hard to hate
Closeup,
How long must I wait
To be noticed
How shall I  
safeguard myself
Without degrading another
Lean in, stay curious

He sits on his chair of unearned power
Time caused his temper to spoil and grow sour;
Faulting those lower in the hierarchy,
He rests, contented in his monarchy;

He wreaks havoc on anyone with dreams;
Though his entity divides at the seams
King of his castle, he sits unconcerned
Playing with fire, about to be burned

He has not learned: what goes up must come down
Breathing in water, and soon he will drown
He pushes others down to lift him up
He is bitter and decaying closeup

Written and read in a voice of deadpan:
The crimes of a diabolical man

This is not what I expect'd from the fall
Life took turns that I could not have foreseen,
Asking me, begging me, forcing me: "preen".
People, gone; as though life's no love at all,
For the ones I might need, ones I might call,
In darker hours. But why not intervene?
I gleaned knowledge I did not want to glean,
Of time, of love, and of death's quiet call.

I also, although, did not expect light,
Nor strength, nor courage. I was gathered up
By one, well aware of my hopeless groans.
Renewed with Spirit, I leaned in to fight.
Pulled in, that I might witness You closeup.
This season no longer seems one unsewn.

To everyone she seems pretty lame,
laying on the ground, not enjoying the fame.
Today is the day that the girl tripped and fell,
she is the laughing stalk, the one that sells.
She was tripped by the bully, her stuff on the floor,
oh, how she wished she could run out that door.
She doesn't know that someone actually cares,
but all that he does is stare.
When the girl fell,
he saw it well.
It was all like she goes a walking,
and somebody's stalking.
He comes up behind her, and made her fall,
they all laughed as she hit the wall.
It was all like she falls down,
and a giant frown,
comes upon her face,
oh, what a disgrace.
She wonders what she did to them,
why they all hate her?
All but one...
and that's the one special boy who cares.
The one boy walks up,
catching a glimpse closeup.
She welcomes him in,
as her world is somehow thinning.
His voice whispers insidious,
making her feel hideous.
Oh how the pain is somehow baring,
he lied about caring.
When the girl fell,
he saw it well.
It was all like she goes a walking,
and somebody's stalking.
He comes up behind her, and made her fall,
they all laughed as she hit the wall.
It was all like she falls down,
and a giant frown,
comes upon her face,
oh, what a disgrace.
She wonders what she did to them,
why they all hate her?
All but one...
and that's the one special boy who cares.
Everyone thinks she is crazy,
her life is all hazy.
Everyone stays away,
oh, how she prays.
She's talking to her demons,
how she wished she was dreaming.
The boy isn't here,
wishing she could just disappear.
Engulfed in her own presence,
she wishes she learned a lesson.
The demons fill her head with thoughts,
tying her stomach into knots.
Filling her head with sights,
that only come when she's alone at night,
They tell her of her dreams,
life isn't as it seems.
When the girl fell,
he saw it well.
It was all like she goes a walking,
and somebody's stalking.
He comes up behind her, and made her fall,
they all laughed as she hit the wall.
It was all like she falls down,
and a giant frown,
comes upon her face,
oh, what a disgrace.
She wonders what she did to them,
why they all hate her?
All but one-
and that's the one special boy who cares.
But the sad thing is-
He's just her imagination-

I can't sleep because everything is on fire. I look outside, and there it is- the fire. I turn on the TV, fire. It's in my lungs and clinging to my clothing. It's stinging my eyes and giving me a headache.


It's been dark tonight but now the light has started creeping through the windows to remind me, everything has to continue. I have to go to school. My husband has to go to work.


I want to get in my car and drive somewhere that the smoke hasn't touched yet. But it's everywhere. It's to my left and right, it's up and down, closeup and at a distance.


I want to yell "Fire!" but no one will let me. I want to escape but no one will show me the exits. I'm tired of watching everything burn away and smolder and ache and choke and wheeze.

Stuck in a time with no time
Wasting away the day with no hours
Making your feelings a crime
A world full of cowards

Do we ever feel like giving up?
Or do we just stop trying?
We see everything in closeup
So can't nobody see im dying?

In a tank of shrimps
You’re a Moorish idol
You make everything
Look a trifle…

since I’ve learnt of you
you’ve been in my dreams
you sat close to me
I could feel you near
despite image banned
on my nighttime screen…
got no closeup of you
only contours unclear

i've been touching you
with my fingertips
i've been watching you
with half-closed eyelids
through a keyhole
in the dusk of night
through a door gap
in blinding sunlight

not a photograph
but a blurry snap
poorly painted draft
of your silhouette
in the dark of room
we talk tete-a-tete
but your mouth is mute
and I doubt… what’s that?

Is it a cigarette...
or it’s just a pen?
But before I know
I’ll wake up again

the drive in pistachio of Frankenstein's

forehead--whose smiling wounds of

sutured shoelaces break open black & white.

a widescreen closeup, as his voice suddenly

booms through parked cars with foggy windows

rolled up.

a grunty-moan, a 1931 Aum--turns the screws of his

doctor's Hitleresque inflections, with pronouncements

of aliveness.

the rock-a-bye creaks of pickles in patches forced to

escape from their animal traps.

as the parking lot empties in a hot wheels like mashup--

couples turn on their radios to normalize.

where every station broadcasts Frankenstein's 1931

outre' Aum.

vacancies for yellow jackets also available

alternately titled: eave'n roofs houses nidus

If ye dear reader find yourself
as an under appreciated
busy buddy buzzfeeding bee -
hive got just the solution.

When me and the misses
entered side door here
yesterday September 26th, 2021
where both of us live
within one bedroom unit
at Highland Manor Apartments,
we espied hexagon-shaped paper cells
constituting partially completed
reasonably priced
state of the art abode.

Nevertheless, these
myopic eyes of mine
identified when closeup
tiny sign advertising real estate
large enough to house me,
an average size bugaboo.

Yours truly itching to move
to cozier quarters
no matter facilities roofless
imposing long overdue necessity
to strip down trappings
to bare minimum.

Tricked out with state of the art wizardry
microscopic computer processing chips
adorn six identical geometric sides
indeed allowing, enabling and providing
global linkedin telecommunications
beamed in across
bajillion miles from deep space.

All kidding aside
Hymenoptera quite the builder
with innate abilities as their guide
neither prejudice, nor afflicted with pride.

Ever mindful of insects with diaphanous wings,
yours truly quite aware of pain regarding bee stings,
which commentary brings
me to recall the following incident when
quite so many years ago...

Mine eyes espied a glorious shade tree
on a recent brutally hazy,
hot and humid July summer day,
where below the gnarled roots
glazed occipital nerve did not see
yellow-jackets minding their own beeswax
when derriere i.e. did essay
until deux stingers re:
accessible bared skin
apiary members did flay
vulnerable hide bound
part of my right knee,

whereby toxin induced to feel
slightly queasy and appear ashen gray
yet possessed response
to stand up and immediately flee
as cohorts per hive stirred
with protruding stingers ready to lay
into another area of ripe human flesh
with consistency of brie
yet, no intent to be cheesy – nay
on the con tray or re:

only attempting to find good humor
to stave discomfort at bay
which quick thinking found me
summoning medicinal salve
to keep any potential swelling away
thus this mister mom trotted
into Belmont Hills lye bray r e
soaking damp washcloths
(I packed in plastic bag
to cool thyself) and pray

all the while mouthing expletives
more emphatic than oy vey
healing powers of self
would allow this chap to feel okay
enough until my then
thirteen-year-old youngest daughter
and tutor would sashay
out into the blistering heat
so we could be on our home bound way.

Closeup of eye...
Its gaze toward the sky
The puddle that brims
And sloshes the rims

And as we zoom out
Beholding the lout
We see what he’s done
Lit up by the sun

Zoom further back still
We see the fresh ****
Which lays lifeless there
In crisp winter air

As blood starts to spread
The dark crimson red
A slow sticky flow
Which steams on the snow

And now looking down
From over the town
From view of a dove
Way up high above

A few tiny specs
These red and white flecks
The clouds now obscure
The dead and demure

The curve comes in view
The green and the blue
And the haze covers all
This humanity, small

Cries up from below
As further we go
The absence of sound
Absorbed by the ground

And still it moves round
Our star, without sound
And time will release
The deafening peace

I have a list
like one might take
to an auto parts store

jet
plane
traveled
quickly

the camera then
zoomed in
for a closeup

Whit Howland © 2020

I can still climb into the moment,  when I knew what I had found.
Being lifted up so high, that I could barely see the ground.

We think ourselves into the good times, so many when we were new.
Spreading them all around us, our custom relationship glue.

As time passed our love crashed, and we began to drift apart.
Since I couldn’t stop what I felt for you, so I went about breaking my heart.

The in and out, the back and forth, it took me down so deep.
But every time as if on cue, love would make me leap.

Back to you got harder and colder, with every time I fell.
In spite of that, the love I felt, kept me under your spell.

Removing myself from everything, the love I shared with you.
Taught me all about myself, and things I needed to do.

Our time together gave me tools, that I never had before.
No longer fearing anyone, passing through my door.

Love from a distance is a peculiar thing, it’s not like closeup love.
One learns to just send it out, and trust in god above.

G: walks into house, slams door dudes, where the hell are my twinkies?!
B: sets down 360 controller slowly bro, twinkies are dead. where've you been?
G: (*** look) I just woke up in the back of a zaxby's with a hello kitty tattoo on my ****.
M: you've always had that tattoo, *******. and you ALWAYS wake up in the back of some chicken restaurant.
B: yeah, last week it was a popeyes somewhere near Canada.
G: what are you guys talking about? why in the hell would I have a hello kitty tattoo? and I don't even like chicken that much!
M+B: gasp
B: this is GEORGIA. you do not not like chicken in Georgia!
M: you have broken the sacred code. (cut to G, then back to M+B with guns)
G:(cut back to greg with a BK crown and gun) have it your way! (everyone points guns at each other and pulls triggers but nothing happens. tosses guns somewhere and proceeds to hand to hand combat with G+B)
pause in combat
B: you're a traitor!
G: (clown makeup) I'm lovin it!
closeup on M with potato cannon: no.... i'm lovin it!
fires potato gun.
G shakes his head, back in the house: wha.., wait, why do i have a hello kitty tattoo??
M: ***** this!!

if you love my writing, i’ll love you

i wanna feel your hands
on my body
like poetry
stanzas and alliterations
upon my guilty skin

your eyes twinkle
and they sing
i’m sure you would be good at writing
we could exchange ideas
paint words vividly
but maybe you do write out of
your own accord
i don’t actually know you, forgive me

i am tired of being invisible
know me
let me know you
in a way that no one else knows you
a way that is secretive
but capable

i’ll write your wrongs
and right down the street
are my open arms
to hold you in spite of the horror
to build you sanctuary
to construct buildings out of
your bulging eyes
hold me as well

i am not a handful
whatsoever
          just kidding

but whatever
let me be your muse
that way i can live forever in
hardback books and film screens
so i don’t doze off one day and leave
no memories
that way
you’ll always have me

i can stamp you on paper and
keep you in the paragraphs
and
line breaks

i can sketch your eyes into crystal *****
fortune tell for the distant future
inside of our tightly held palms

i will love every square inch of your
olive oil skin
and every ounce
of your soulful soul

i’ll write you into metaphors
about the land, sea, and animals
scream your name at the top of my
lungs until
you magically appear
i’ll wipe your tears
and
toss em’ off your pillowcase
read you bedtime stories about
how the moon adores the tides so
much, but they change every time
  she
    moves

also how the sun stopped shining
and ruined his true love
with the earth
and ever since then, all citizens
get burned in extra passionate heat
he wanted to make it up to her.
but he can’t.

please adore the way i draw the
rhyming into poetry
fantasize about me smiling on a bridge
in Chicago
so tiny in comparison to the
skyscrapers
that cling to the clouds
almost touching Heaven
(they think so)

be my muse
if not from closeup
at least far-away
or
at least
at arms length
cause
i wanna feel your chilly
hands grace my body
like choirs in unison
looovvvvveeeeee mmmmeeeee

(or at least like my poetry)

(you don’t even have to like me)

(just read it)