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"notifies" poems
It’s 11:30 at night, and I’m staring at a screen that no longer notifies me that anyone I know is awake. For I am once again avoiding sleep, but I am waiting for a reason to stay awake. I do not want to sleep for fear of never waking up, but if you send me a message, I will have a reason to get up in the morning. Fact: Our communication is more body language than it is words but not that this applies to the text message you will send from your phone. For the only thing that doesn’t involve words in a texting conversation is silence. You’d be surprised at how often I’ve had to be silent for the sake of others. You see, I have been told by many that I am too selfless, and that I need to look out for myself a little more. But I can’t. I do not have the ability to stop caring about people who need me, even if I am suffering more than they are. It hurts…to know that people I care about are in pain, so I pretend my pain isn’t there. But slowly, I begin to realize that listening to others and caring for them is not a bad thing, but it does give me a reason to ignore my own problems. I don’t want to ignore my own issues, but I don’t have the courage to tell them to my own friends, why is that? One time, my brother was so sick he could barely swallow without feeling pain, so I only asked him yes or no questions so he could nod or shake his head to answer. His pain, kept him silent, and my pain keeps me silent. The only difference between his situation and mine is that my communication with him was working and this silence within me prevents me from even saying hi to people. I want to tell people everything, I want to have 5-hour conversations about everything that makes me silent and I want to be able to send you a text message without worrying about whether or not I just interrupted your life for 2 seconds. I want to tell you that I’m having a bad day, but I can’t because seeing you makes my day so much better that I have to smile. I want to tell you why I hate the weekends because I love school because my friends are at school, and that I had a fight with my parents, and that I hate looking at my own reflection, and that every time I say to someone that I’m sorry, I’m also trying to say that I love them. I am sorry…sorry… I want to tell you that I sometimes feel so much pain that when you say hello or goodbye, I will only have enough energy to give you a small smile and a wave, I am lonely… I want to get better, I want to say everything and be honest and just WHY GOD WON’T YOU HELP ME?!? I want to play music, and have fun, and live my life, please somebody hear me… Ding 1 New notification: “Hey, are you still awake? You seemed a little out of it today. I’m always here for you if you need me.” It’s 12:00am and I’ve missed the moment where today became tomorrow. So maybe today is the day I tell you everything. Maybe our communication isn’t broken. I write back saying: “Thanks for checking in on me, it means a lot. Now that you mention it, there is something that’s been bothering me, I have something I need to tell you…”
0
Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 1:05 AM UTC
Communication Silence
It’s 11:30 at night, and I’m staring at a screen that no longer notifies me that anyone I know is awake. For I am once again avoiding sleep, but I am waiting for a reason to stay awake. I do not want to sleep for fear of never waking up, but if you send me a message, I will have a reason to get up in the morning. Fact: Our communication is more body language than it is words but not that this applies to the text message you will send from your phone. For the only thing that doesn’t involve words in a texting conversation is silence. You’d be surprised at how often I’ve had to be silent for the sake of others. You see, I have been told by many that I am too selfless, and that I need to look out for myself a little more. But I can’t. I do not have the ability to stop caring about people who need me, even if I am suffering more than they are. It hurts…to know that people I care about are in pain, so I pretend my pain isn’t there. But slowly, I begin to realize that listening to others and caring for them is not a bad thing, but it does give me a reason to ignore my own problems. I don’t want to ignore my own issues, but I don’t have the courage to tell them to my own friends, why is that? One time, my brother was so sick he could barely swallow without feeling pain, so I only asked him yes or no questions so he could nod or shake his head to answer. His pain, kept him silent, and my pain keeps me silent. The only difference between his situation and mine is that my communication with him was working and this silence within me prevents me from even saying hi to people. I want to tell people everything, I want to have 5-hour conversations about everything that makes me silent and I want to be able to send you a text message without worrying about whether or not I just interrupted your life for 2 seconds. I want to tell you that I’m having a bad day, but I can’t because seeing you makes my day so much better that I have to smile. I want to tell you why I hate the weekends because I love school because my friends are at school, and that I had a fight with my parents, and that I hate looking at my own reflection, and that every time I say to someone that I’m sorry, I’m also trying to say that I love them. I am sorry…sorry… I want to tell you that I sometimes feel so much pain that when you say hello or goodbye, I will only have enough energy to give you a small smile and a wave, I am lonely… I want to get better, I want to say everything and be honest and just WHY GOD WON’T YOU HELP ME?!? I want to play music, and have fun, and live my life, please somebody hear me… Ding 1 New notification: “Hey, are you still awake? You seemed a little out of it today. I’m always here for you if you need me.” It’s 12:00am and I’ve missed the moment where today became tomorrow. So maybe today is the day I tell you everything. Maybe our communication isn’t broken. I write back saying: “Thanks for checking in on me, it means a lot. Now that you mention it, there is something that’s been bothering me, I have something I need to tell you…”
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11
I spoke to a man today with kind eyes and contagious laughter his passport identified him as Israeli, mine american but for a moment, we were both just human He told me he was a combat medic for the IDF as we began our descent into a discussion of politics he spoke of giving medical care to victims of a suicide bombing, just weeks earlier Life is fragile in places like his hometown of Tel Aviv He showed me an app on his iPhone that notifies him of places that were just bombed or when to take shelter, in case of an incoming missile strike How people must savor life in war zones like his friends and family become temporary oases bringing happiness and fulfillment for a moment then gone the next For once there were no borders between us, or cultural divides, just two men discussing life, or something like it
0
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 12:16 PM UTC
Life, or Something Like It
The montage of faces from all corners of the globe, new tounges, thoughtful eyes. A generation safe from past strains of inhumanity. There's no hobsons choice only permanent reinvention. The glory to be who you wish the edifying  gift bestowed from England the hub of the free
0
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 8:34 AM UTC
England notifies.
A phone call. What a terrible invention. They only bring depression, If I could never receive a call again I'd be happy. It's a constant reminder no one wants to speak to you; Someone calling has only brought misery. But with each glance I pray that someone knows my number; hopefully they didn't have chubby child like fingers. Maybe they wrote it down wrong, because we were in a rush. Maybe I'm just under the wrong name, maybe they heard it was James, even though that sounds nothing like Michael. Maybe just maybe my carrier is down, my phone is not working. I'll check, nope everything is working. Why would I ask for such a call to come to me? When the only things I've ever been told in a phone call have brought me to tears. Things like I think we should break up, no longer see each other, just be friends. Being told hey this family member is sick and dying of cancer, while I'm lucky sometimes to get that call that notifies me that someone is sick. I get those delayed calls, how your best friend just died from a brain aneurysm. While my second mother sounds like she may be dying as well. I don't know if she called to say I was lucky to know she's sick, or to tell me my phone ***** Because to be honest I hope no one knows my number. So I'm going to keep talking to only chubby friends, so they keep messing up my number. I may not always be in a rush, but I'll give an ink pen that spills I'll tell them to put me under that name James and never bring it up again, so they forget. can't do anything about my carrier, but I can do something about my phone I don't have one, it rest with my best friend.
0
Jul 1, 2013
Jul 1, 2013 at 3:58 AM UTC
Just a Phone Call
A phone call. What a terrible invention. They only bring depression, If I could never receive a call again I'd be happy. It's a constant reminder no one wants to speak to you; Someone calling has only brought misery. But with each glance I pray that someone knows my number; hopefully they didn't have chubby child like fingers. Maybe they wrote it down wrong, because we were in a rush. Maybe I'm just under the wrong name, maybe they heard it was James, even though that sounds nothing like Michael. Maybe just maybe my carrier is down, my phone is not working. I'll check, nope everything is working. Why would I ask for such a call to come to me? When the only things I've ever been told in a phone call have brought me to tears. Things like I think we should break up, no longer see each other, just be friends. Being told hey this family member is sick and dying of cancer, while I'm lucky sometimes to get that call that notifies me that someone is sick. I get those delayed calls, how your best friend just died from a brain aneurysm. While my second mother sounds like she may be dying as well. I don't know if she called to say I was lucky to know she's sick, or to tell me my phone ***** Because to be honest I hope no one knows my number. So I'm going to keep talking to only chubby friends, so they keep messing up my number. I may not always be in a rush, but I'll give an ink pen that spills I'll tell them to put me under that name James and never bring it up again, so they forget. can't do anything about my carrier, but I can do something about my phone I don't have one, it rest with my best friend.
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26
In bed      for the first time I am watching you       in the bathroom      brushing your teeth just the right chunk of light      enough to see a magenta vest your only tattoo sneaking out from the top    of black shorts your clock notifies me    it is ten past twelve a dog yaps in sporadic bursts    outside a siren whines only to die seconds later      but I am captivated by your shape the backs of your feet    a little fraction of skin      under the belly-button and if this is to become commonplace an ordinary event    I will sleep every night with a smile      painted over my dreams
0
Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 4:35 PM UTC
Girlfriend Brushing Teeth
4am 4am 4am…. Leftover stonedness Lonely memories I can’t figure out what I miss. Think it’s the calm comfort of tuning out Even though the tuning out slowly murdered me Drift beyond Drift away from everyone I fear people. Sometimes I feel like everyone else disappears in the world Or that they can’t touch me Like I’ve never been touched. I don’t think I’ve ever been touched. The computer glows and I have to be quiet. My mother is sleeping in the other room. She’s stressed and hurting Guilt notifies me that I haven’t helped her enough. I don’t know if I feel like dying but I feel like becoming mute. If I can learn to ignore everyone, I can ignore pain and let down expectations Sweetie eyes and a tall lean lover. Dark expression knowing my soul Loving and ********** Soul to soul Skin to skin Breathe with every breath.
0
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 7:16 PM UTC
Mind Meanderings
We were ravaged, beaten, artistic souls looking for memories and muse. Any reconnection was never the same as the feeling of the first night up in the lifeguard stand over a bottle of cheap Zinfandel. Barefoot along the battered beach town streets. Light finger traces over the talk of the universe we thought we knew. It never ended; it just dissipated into the smog of reality at home. I can spin the Al Green album again without fear of awakening something that may be missing from my long days. I'm warmed by the presence of these memories in my life, like aloe smoothed along starkly sunburnt skin. At that period in my timeline, you helped me grow immensely. I'll never know where your head was, but I trust that is for the best. Every once in a while when my phone notifies me of your presence once again, maybe you’ll be thinking of the same moments too.
0
Jan 5, 2022
Jan 5, 2022 at 1:20 PM UTC
Letter to a Friend