"minivan" poems - Hello Poetry

I’m talking to you in my head been cultivating this shyness since I was three years old talking to inanimate objects painted smiles, rubber-skinned metal frames turning wheels the family minivan kept me company as mountains rose and fell like held breaths let go. playing games with pregnant raindrops rolling down the glass obsessed with the shark’s fin triangle the wipers could not reach. I’m obsessing over seeing you. always trying to be invisible your eyes beginning to skim past I, they didn’t used too. *“The voices that once spoke love but did not mean love.”* the withered rose living in the trash, abandoned friends in the attic forgotten songs unfinished books I am the forgotten I am the abandoned I am the left behind cobweb-and-cotton-dust-collector the silence connoisseur I wear loneliness like an unwashed favorite shirt If I die Will you read this? Does anyone else think such things or is Tonio Kroger my only brother? I am Kafka’s cockroach, everyone is waiting for me to die or to change into what you want me to be. my name will not be in the history books by the time my children’s children will have children I am no one. Everything fades in this world like whiteboard-marker on acetate lives. Desolate corners and garbage tell stories art is vandalism, vandalism is art. and people wear diamonds but they are worth nothing. and babies inherit their father’s eyes. I am not yours. You are not mine. Isn’t ownership objectification? If a man owns a clock does the clock own the man? Let’s be money and greed or greed and suffering. one cannot survive without… Let’s be the mismatched pyramids of wealth and population form a parallelogram like bricks on an unstable wall never falling down.

0

Apr 15, 2012

Apr 15, 2012 at 7:46 AM UTC

fuckyoupo

parallelogram

I’m talking to you in my head been cultivating this shyness since I was three years old talking to inanimate objects painted smiles, rubber-skinned metal frames turning wheels the family minivan kept me company as mountains rose and fell like held breaths let go. playing games with pregnant raindrops rolling down the glass obsessed with the shark’s fin triangle the wipers could not reach. I’m obsessing over seeing you. always trying to be invisible your eyes beginning to skim past I, they didn’t used too. *“The voices that once spoke love but did not mean love.”* the withered rose living in the trash, abandoned friends in the attic forgotten songs unfinished books I am the forgotten I am the abandoned I am the left behind cobweb-and-cotton-dust-collector the silence connoisseur I wear loneliness like an unwashed favorite shirt If I die Will you read this? Does anyone else think such things or is Tonio Kroger my only brother? I am Kafka’s cockroach, everyone is waiting for me to die or to change into what you want me to be. my name will not be in the history books by the time my children’s children will have children I am no one. Everything fades in this world like whiteboard-marker on acetate lives. Desolate corners and garbage tell stories art is vandalism, vandalism is art. and people wear diamonds but they are worth nothing. and babies inherit their father’s eyes. I am not yours. You are not mine. Isn’t ownership objectification? If a man owns a clock does the clock own the man? Let’s be money and greed or greed and suffering. one cannot survive without… Let’s be the mismatched pyramids of wealth and population form a parallelogram like bricks on an unstable wall never falling down.