"misplayed" poems
the coffee shop on 1st street
you told me my eyes were warm and belonged here
I shrugged and gulped my coffee even though it burned my tongue
the bookstore on 2nd street
you told me my hands were made of love from the pages I've turned
I glanced at you and nervously chewed my fingernails until it hurt
the music store on 3rd street
you told me my heart was an acoustic guitar that'd been misplayed
I tripped over my shoelace and madly tied them up along with my heart
the arcade on 4th street
you told me my smile was worth all the time and effort because I deserved it
I went to the bathroom and before I left I smiled in the mirrors a little too hard
the beach off 5th street
you asked me what I was so afraid of that kept holding me back
I let the sand crumble between my fingers and told you that I was the sand and you were the waves
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 1:48 AM UTC
I have to wonder
How fast the soul could travel
To get away from here
Far away from this life
That I have ruined
Oh,
The life I have misplayed
And the feelings never decayed
"So the mind won't lie
And the arm won't set
And the bright red eye
Isn't off you yet
So the words won't come
And the hand won't touch
And a midnight sun
Doesn't look like much
As an Iris contracts
Facing the day
I can tell you've cracked
Like a china plate"
Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 12:24 AM UTC
Tossed into the muddy reservoir of bad choices.
You are the words coming back to haunt me.
You are those voices.
I am all the times you thought you knew better;
I am the constant reminders.
I am the torn up love-letter.
The unread magazines that hide your drawings.
The bitter, black coffee
that picks me up in the mornings.
The way the sun comes out earlier this time of year;
And how the rain comes and hides, and obscures
the tears.
The hello's and goodbye's,
forced
and insincere.
And the voice that whispers:
"It's alright,
have no fear."
And the other voice that whispers other things
I'd rather not hear.
I am all the decisions you wish you hadn't made.
You are every note,
out of tune
or misplayed.
You are the soundless symphony;
the forgotten serenade.
You are the one I haven't met yet.
The rising of the moon
and the falling of the sun set.
I am the poems never read,
and the songs never sang.
I am door never opened;
the telephone that never rang.
We were the story never told,
and the feelings never shared.
The ones that didn't live to ever grow old.
The empty box, written with the words
"Handle with care."
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 7:55 PM UTC
“Did I hesitate a moment? Did I stop and wonder why?
We were ordered to attack from some blunderer up high.
We were all, I think, afraid. Who wouldn’t be right then?
Those Russians were entrenched and had artillery with them.
We must have looked magnificent on our chargers riding high
As we rode for God and Country, we knew Death was standing by.
I saw my brother Henry die and more brave lads besides.
We dressed the line and galloped on, We who were about to die.
My horse was shot from under me and that threw me to the sod.
The battle sounded distant and my left arm felt quite odd.
Some Shrapnel cut my face and thigh, but I saw many worse.
Some men called for their mothers, others raged and cursed.
Our gallant charge was broken by effective cannon fire.
There were many horses riderless like the one that I acquired.
When I got back behind our lines, I thanked my equine friend.
Then I realized he’d been Henry’s mount when this travesty began.
I’m sure there will be an inquiry into how this was misplayed.
It is then I’ll tell my tale about our murdered light brigade.”
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 8:53 AM UTC
Am I really here, or even real?
Are the people around me just glittering spiels?
Bending and yawning as an aching willow
Opening and weeping on splayed soft pillows
Fluffy and delicate, once never to shed
By and by warm an unkept withered bed
Vowed never to have been slept in
But a lowly spirit swelled within
What once was lost, could never be found
The root sprouted from trodden ground
A dwindling, pebbled little path
Swept away in a minute flash
Gone goes the summer and the sparrow groans
Never again is that reverence to be known
Perhaps a love misplayed might cease to be shown
Mar 19, 2021
Mar 19, 2021 at 11:27 PM UTC
You made excuses and ruses
And egregious misuses
Of all we hold sacred;
You misplayed it to the hilt
Until you almost killed
Almost all of us with lies.
So many were unwise
And fell for each guise
Every smiling mask
And gave them what they asked
So they could bask in false glory.
We didn’t notice our story
Did not match the tale as told
And before the ink could grow old
Each criminal prophet grew more bold
And, changing the names of blessings
They continued messing around
Until our Constitution was on the ground
Trampled in the dirt by those
Who cannot ever be hurt.
Because they bribe those of us
Who have missed the bus
Somewhere back in elementary school
When they didn’t play by the rules
And we didn’t learn what cheating looked like;
Didn’t tell the cheats to take a hike
And let us get on with making better
The world they were destroying by the letter
Just as they tore up the words
Of those who started us all and heard
Our voices of blood and pain.
They are greedy enough to want us to fail again.
May 21, 2017
May 21, 2017 at 3:38 PM UTC