"curiousities" poems
It began at five,
Curiousities at max.
Hands anywhere,
And everywhere.
It became age fifteen..
When that wasnt enough,
A decade ago.
Slide in two itty bitty years,
And I cause war.
Such a teenager.
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 12:12 PM UTC
All I have are memories and curiousities
which I try to satisfy hunting around the internet
and finding very little except what I already know and
was it a dream? NO a thousand times no
How do I KNOW?
My poems are the breadcrumbs to my dark memories of the place
A place without honesty a place where I struggled to find the appropriate
illusion or delusion or denial that seemed to work for those successful here
but could not stand it, bear it, do it
and some could, but it wasn't good for them either
"this program is working" "we are at the cutting edge of education"
"our leaders are smart" and I couldn't do it,
couldn't activate that switch which is so close to those switches I struggled so hard to turn off
"my family is happy" "if I am unhappy at home it is all my fault"
and to turn them back on, for they are all connected somehow, would be a kind of death
and I'm not adept enough, compartmentalized enough
not yet. I made many mistakes there,
leaning on the unstable which caused him pain
trying to get comfort from a stone, which dislodged him
but it's over now and today I have a scholarship and I have little notes on my work:
"nice job," "very thoughtful response" and I am that same person I was only a few weeks ago
that same person who wasn't a "good fit" who didn't get it,
who was causing problems with her quick mind and rebellious thoughts
but now its over and all the people I offended have moved on
and the dagger stuck in my belly has been removed and the bleeding
has stopped, and healing has begun
and someday I will make peace with all this
Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 5:00 PM UTC
A few weeks ago, I could feel
Now there's no time
My grief is just a problem to be flicked away
like fuzz on a clean work table
out of place
Who cares about your humanity at work?
Work as an end in itself
As proof of being
When I slow it down I see strange things
Confusion that is never clarified
Wanderers through the daylight responding
to fantasies
Take a moment and breathe
Feel that you already are
There are many things to do
Not much time to be
How did it get this way?
Facetime Facebook happy meetings
feigning enthusiasm for strangers who
are only curiousities
who I don't know and yet spend hours a day with
How did we get this way?
We all have our lives, tucked away, unimportant
As we plow through what is thought of as worthwhile
And I feel like a hamster on a treadmill
Running ever faster
Returning again and again for more
of nowhere
Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 10:29 PM UTC
You attract my curiousities...
but what about the realer me...
you show me possiblities....
but not enough to capture me...
please dont take this literally...
Im just speaking momentarily...
because I've seen some prophecies...
looking through my fantacies...
If you could only see...
what they are tellin me...
Things I thought could never be...
the deeper you start loving me....
Jan 2, 2013
Jan 2, 2013 at 7:00 PM UTC
These former treasures
now transformed into
anonymous junk.
Where did their history flee?
I stroll this flea market
with 10 dollars and no plan.
How many lives held these items?
Like mute Zen Masters
each has found its original face;
the desire that attached them
to life has evaporated.
They are only sad things in boxes
waiting for new hands
holding disinterested dimes,
seeking meaningless curiousities
to gather dust on lonely shelves.
This is what stuff comes to.
- mce
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 7:41 AM UTC
She was the one who said yes
When everyone kept saying no
She was the one who asked questions
When everyone kept silent
She was the one who whent left
When everyone was walking right
She was the one who touched the sky
When everyone one was kissing ground
I was the one who got insipired
By curiousity and interest of hers
I was the one who followed
Through her open doors
Where everything is alive
Where everything is alright
Where screams are right
Where curiousities live
Away from dusty boxes
Of already forgoten people
Who didnt think or feel
That there is another way
She was only one sane in this world
Of plain things surrounded by coldness
Without her I would be lost in numbness
Dying slowly or already gone
She gave me answers
To questions I didnt know that exist
She showed me colors
That nobody sees
Maybe she just got me insane?
Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 4:04 AM UTC