"misconstructed" poems
I’ve entered the Inner Passage
Thought of as the safe route to Alaska
Protected by friendly coves and sheltered bays
Shields voyagers from the uncertainties
Of the tectonics of a heaving Pacific
The Inner Passage
A compass point of
Jack London’s imagination
Spinning fantastic adventure yarns
of audacious Sea Wolf sailors
And rugged fortune seekers
Answering the call of the wild
The Inner Passage
Fraught with hidden shoals
And submerged rocky promontories
Lay just below the water line
Jutting on the steep banks
Of a glaciated mountain lined sea
The Inner Passage
Precludes an easy escape
To the boundless freedom
Of the open seas
One cannot sail away
One must firmly
grab the wheel
Guide the rudder
map the terra firma
Of a misconstructed life
The hazards and mishaps
Buried in the unconscious sands of the mind
interred to protect the heart
From the walking ghosts
Springing to life
Emboldening
The daily aches of living
The Inner Passage
Seemingly the safe route
Yet the hidden shoals
The ship wrecks
crews of stranded castaways
Call out for recovery, resurrection,
Watchfulness and recognition
Careful navigation is required
To salvage the wreckage
Rescue the unfortunate victims
Of the disasters and gales
I engendered along
my life's journey
The Inner Passage
A promise of rebirth
Reconstitution, recovery
“Can a man enter the womb again?”
The Gospel writer asks.
This inner passage may yet
Deliver me to a reinvigorated life
Let me uncover
What lies deep
In my tell tale heart
Let me tame
the mighty beasts of the sea
That rule the fathomless waters
Of my tumultuous emotions
May Thy Will and a better course
Heal my restive soul
My I finally free
my grounded vessel
From the false sanctuary
Offered by shallow shoals
Freeing me to dive deep
Into the hidden reefs
Of my heart and mind
May this pilgrim make good progress
May I accept life on life's terms
May I practice a well considered
engaged stewardship
May I never arrive at a staid place
And become wholesomely satisfied
with a serene state of being
The Inner Passage
Indeed a difficult voyage
Is underway
a new course mapped
I will pass through
The dark ranges where the
Commanding heights of
Fear, anger, resent and regret
Become nothing more
Then the precipitous peaks
Of a harmless silhouette
Fading away into the mist
Of yesterday's twilight
The Inner Passage
Aboard the Kennicott
Near Ketchikan, AK
8.22.19
jbm
Michael Nyman
The Piano
Aug 22, 2023
Aug 22, 2023 at 4:50 PM UTC
My bones hurt me over and over again
My veins ache and bend and break
with them and my skin just doesn't
protect my heart or my head anymore
The instructions firing in my skull
are moving me in all the wrong directions
These messy thoughts have got me twisted
and wandering in the middle of the night
My wiring is all misconstructed,
malfunctioning,
severed & frayed
Just cut the chord
Sell my insides like strips of metal
Maybe they'll work just fine,
under the control of a braver mind
Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 3:22 AM UTC
turning tides and sickening waves
it comes in bouts
sea sickness in slow motion
an uncontrollable desire to scratch at my skin
it comes in bouts
the thoughts, the fear, the feeling;
an anchor of uncontrollable palpitations and irrational thought
for some people, home is where the heart is
my heart is a home
it knocks in my chest and one day i am sure it's going to knock itself down
home is where the heart is,
reminders of where my heart is come in bouts
dizziness and exhaustion
brown paper bags and air thick with lack of oxygen...
how close are you to passing ou-
home is where the heart is,
some people have buried their homes within me
and i cannot take care of my own heart - let alone yours
and i keep trying to stop the world from turning so i don't drown in these turning tides and sickening waves so maybe we can spend longer together but these waves come crashing in fast; like my heart beat, like that unforgiving train as it takes you further and further away from me
i have never felt so close and yet so far from you
some people have buried their homes within me
i am more derelict building; abandoned farmhouse; isolated corner shop than i ever could be home
there is graffiti all over my walls and it masks irrational thought with shadowed wisdom and make-believe positivity
i was not built
i was misconstructed;
the site that gets knocked down before the real construction begins
and no one is safe to live within me;
for as homely as my heart may seem, it is overpowered by turning tides and sickening waves.
Aug 19, 2016
Aug 19, 2016 at 6:02 PM UTC
My body was once a
TEMPLE.
Semantic memories fade like
MISCONSTRUCTED.
sentences
Too many commas
Too many expressions
PAUSED.
Yet they go on and on
Full stops where
EMPTY.
promises should have been
Upper case convictions for lower case hearts
Filling gaps and leaving no space to breathe
CONFINED.
by suffocating vocabularies
UNFORGIVABLE.
utterances lingering on.
My body was once a temple .
My body was once bold .
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 2:17 PM UTC
What I see is poured into me
It's just a drink
I'm an alcoholic before my age
But there must be something better
We all ***** and complain
About no one caring
But I care about all of you
Everyone deserves a chance
Even a second chance
You can't judge at first glance
This is America
Don't give up on the true thought
That people can be free
That's Liberty
I know how that sounds but
I'm not a liberal or conservative
But solely in the middle
I'm not fickle
I know what I know
And I'm trying to share
To make purpose of the terrible things I've done
So others know it's not just about living or just having fun
It's about being a man
But what do any of us know about being a man?
I tried to learn
Even from the few men in my life
But you know what?
Most men are misconstructed
The idea of what is right
And what is life
Have been explained by many
And up for any and many misinterpretations
The interpretation is always a day late
We fight because we are designed to
But the choice is ours not to
My only other brother besides my own brother
Is a black cat with no mother
I ask the same that I would
From any brother or son
My advice goes unheeded
And is never done
Maybe one day
Someone will listen
I've changed multiple lives
Already
But get out of your train of ****
And realize and listen a little
I just want what's best for you
Because I care
Everyone is so scared
This is not what I fought for freedom for
I want us to be free
And to be let be
To be ourselves
And for that to be okay
Every ************ day
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 4:03 AM UTC
silence, silence so primitive that it begs to be heard
begs for attention, for you to notice what it’s trying to tell you
but alas, silence is still white noise in empty space
everything goes left unheard
conversation, conversations that escape from soft lops like birds from a cage
aching to be free in the world, to be heard, to be noticed
words creating a cacophony, so hard to miss any that are firing out from our canon mouths
but the words you were aiming never hit bullseye, they got left unspoken
actions, actions that you could retrace all the way back to love
the imminent need for touch, a graze of calloused fingertips against smooth arms
the lack of personal space between your body and mine
eyes flickering to every target some other body part is trying to make contact with
alas, actions got misconstructed, they got left unnoticed
conclusion, conclusion of the un-phenomenon
hands locked around my waist, twist so we’re face to face
eyes locked on target, heart rates hitting a hundred
cataclysmic sparks, a new un enters the plot
unexpected response, he goes in for another
the un-phenomenon comes to an expected ending
Apr 24, 2019
Apr 24, 2019 at 11:35 PM UTC