"pitstop" poems
this is a poem about how you sleep,
how your body grew cold like a corpse in a mortuary.
how it felt wrong to reach out and touch you.
did you know that you turned away from me
every time i tried to face you?
did you do it on purpose?
maybe you were afraid i would be able to see
you were dreaming of her,
that i would read it on your face.
lines by your mouth like obituary,
like roadmap, her bedroom,
the destination, mine, a pitstop.
loving you was like attending a funeral service for myself
and sitting in the front row. no.
loving you was like watching you pick out a casket
and call it practice. ****
i know how sensitive you are about death.
i know it still hurts.
i know how everything hurts.
i am sorry for just being another thing that hurts.
i think i'm afraid to let you forget that you used to want me.
like if i can somehow dig deep enough,
wound you into remembering me.
i keep weapons-grade nostalgia in my back pocket
for the days i can feel myself slipping from your consciousness.
i was born with scar tissue where skin should've been.
but this isn't about me.
this is about the way you sleep
like you're waiting for someone to close the lid,
cover you in dirt, and read a psalm.
this is about the way i tried to sing your pieces back together,
and the way my voice gives out
when i read the things you write for anyone other than me.
lover, friend, stranger,
i just wanted to show you how to love your darker parts.
i never meant to become one.
i am so ******* selfish.
but i swear i am trying to unlearn the steps.
and you used to think my two left feet were charming.
i am out of time in more ways than one.
i keep stepping on your toes.
i can't seem to stop tripping you up,
hoping that you'll fall back into whatever this was.
- m.f.
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 9:22 PM UTC
its been 2 years, I grew so much but I still carry the same fears
the fears that you kissed, your hand I still miss
I always have the memories but even those start to slip
it's all the **** it's all the daydreams
my days start to bleed, I need a trip
I need to escape, I need a bridge to get across these violent waters
my emotions are stronger the longer they harbour
I return to that day in your car where the rain fell so hard
could barely hear rain on me on the radio
I think of you no matter where I go
I see you with your boo in Turks and Caicos
I see you living it up and not day goes
by where you don't
cross my mind, got myself in so much trouble in the pursuit to find
someone that shares your light, someone that takes their time, someone who is actually worth my time
you just wished me a happy birthday and I wish the convo never ended
I feel without you I am suspended
not able to move, not able to do anything but cry
as I watch the only good man I’ve ever met thrive
I wish I could say you were **** I wish you hurt me harder
maybe then I wouldn’t be stuck like this, loved me better than my father
maybe I was just a pitstop til you found your forever
maybe I was destined to find better
but on these cold march nights, it's hard to keep that in mind
but on these cold march nights, I just want you in my sight
drown in your light, love you as you deserve
maybe that's what it boils down to
never met someone who
was worthy of my love, worthy of my touch
Mar 11, 2022
Mar 11, 2022 at 9:58 AM UTC
Once upon a very old time,
In a perfectly ordinary forest,
Created solely for my words in rhyme,
There lived a very smart tortoise, modest and earnest.
In this same forest of the mind,
There lived a vivacious hare,
She was so stunning, all animals she could spellbind,
And wherever she went, she spread love in the air.
It so happened that the tortoise, our protagonist,
Found himself having an intimate crush
On the hare and if you get my drift,
He wanted to live a life with her, lavish and lush.
So he decided that to her he would propose,
And try to woo her with his intelligence and brains,
To marry her was his ultimate purpose,
He would surely convince her of his pros and gains.
But to his utmost horror, she rejected him downright,
And looked at him in pure disgust,
“no”, she said, “ you can’t win my love’s right,
because it is not for you that I lust.”
But persistent, and smart, he threw a challenge of love,
To her straight to the face,
“will you agree to marry me, my pure white dove,
if ever I beat you in a race?”
The hare agreed readily to the proposition,
Amused to think she could win without a care,
Alas, she didn’t know what the tortoise knew about the situation,
For he had read the story of the tortoise and the hare.
As soon as the race started, away she zipped,
While the tortoise slowly followed behind,
“He’s lost!”, she thought, “ his cream has been whipped!!...”
but the tortoise had something else in mind…
Half way through the race the hare began to tire,
“Oh!” she thought, “for the tortoise I’m still way far ahead…”
so into the hollow of a tree she did retire,
to have a nap in nature’s comfortable bed.
She was still sleeping blissfully when the tortoise reached her,
And saw her asleep in the hollow,
He could have won the race and won his love so dear,
But though he had knowledge, his mind was narrow.
“She’s the girl I love”, he thought,
we should be on equal terms, I shouldn’t get an unfair chance,
and without any fortitude and forethought,
he took a rash decision without a second glance.
“hey! Wake up! The race is still on! Don’t stop!”
his bellowing voice awoke the hare,
she nimbly bounded away, refreshed from the pitstop,
leaving the tortoise to stand and stare.
Obviously, the tortoise lost and well,
What happened after, I know not,
I hear he spent the rest of his life brooding in his shell,
But all this teaches an important lesson about love, does it not???
Nov 5, 2010
Nov 5, 2010 at 10:38 AM UTC
Faltering plans
An indecisive mind,
Consistency in itself is an art
An explosive start!
Followed by;
Fumbling fingers and idiotic ideas.
What next?
Do we pitstop like Hamilton?
We were in pole position.
Reassert, focus and keep on track.
We are the drivers of our own Destiny...
Apr 3, 2021
Apr 3, 2021 at 6:45 PM UTC
I hurriedly pull my street dusted , golden brown Toyota into the middle of a gas station war zone. The kind that turns neighbors into enemies, fighting to gain the only valuable piece of real estate around – the gas tanks. The drivers collectively sport the exact same exhausted and frustrated grimaces. A rusty and dated “ Exon Mobile” sign stands tall and strong against the sundrenched sky. The day is coming to a close, and the sun seems hurried to set as if it is exhausted from the day’s labors and expectations that it must rise again tomorrow, just like the gas station’s patrons. This station, to most, is just another stop. Another errand that puts itself between you and the warmth of home. This station, is just another stop. Another errand at the end of an endless day. But to me, this place is full of promise. This is the one place on earth that gives us life. It gives us the chance to see the world and to explore uncharted grounds. This place brings us closer to adventure and myseries, to happiness, to heartbreak, to feeling. This is the fuel and the energy that is waiting to help you make it to the hospital at 4 am to see the birth of a child. This old and worn pitstop let’s us fall in love with the world, with what we can see, with eachother.
But there is this silver truck with tires too big and a man two sizes to small in the passenger seat. There is a prominent dent in the left side door that has remained unchanged, unhelped, in weeks. As this silver, dented piece of metal sits in the way between me and my pajamas, I have the chance to stop. Not to stop because I’ve finally got to where I’ve been trying to go. Not to stop to pay the McDonald’s cashier in shameful regret of another broken new year’s promise. But to really stop. For an unexpectedly and disappointingly long time. To stop with no expectations. To be forced to just stop. And to wait. And to look around.
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 2:48 AM UTC
Curtains up, lights and sparks
Golden tickets, rising stars
Race to the finish, flashing lights
Adrenaline rush, crazy nights
End of the stanza, quick pitstop
Let's start again take it from the top
Road to addiction, highway to hell
Lined with paparazzi, celebrity's spell
Life in the fast lane, no matter the race
Chemical crutches, to keep the pace
Stay behind to catch, when the curtain's down
And the makeup off - tears of the clown
Tragic comedy - this business we've made
The perfect picture on endless parade
Life imitates art, art imitates life
And the life of the artiste burns out in the fight.
Jun 29, 2017
Jun 29, 2017 at 5:52 PM UTC
Razor-sharp tears that make way
out of the delinquent hearts,
wrecks havoc in the sunlight
and mourns in the darkness.
The neglected alleys of society
becomes the pitstop for life,
yet the tears never stop flowing;
like the vows for life,
in good times and in bad,
in sickness and in health
until death do us part.
Mar 5, 2022
Mar 5, 2022 at 12:36 AM UTC
The birds chirping
The wind blowing
The sun shinning
The clouds flying
And my train of thought it's at it's awaited pitstop
My mind flying
My heart pumping
My lungs breathing
My eyes closing
And my soul going up and looking down at me from a cloud
Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 4:38 AM UTC
"So?" She said.
When will it happen?
Everything that we dreamed of?
Was I just your hometown girl?
Just meant to recharge you at the pitstop before you jumped back on your merry-go-round.
We spoke of Paris
And the sweet champagne air that bathed and the cool grass that tickled the toes of the enlightenment
The revolution marching people into class rank and file like trained troops to be conducted by the invisible hand of capitalism
We watched the world go by on the history channel
When would be visit the theme park it was all played out in
I thought we were meant to sail our own odyssey
But you drink my temperament like the elixir of youth to give your soul a nap.
Whatever, I don't need you
I can stay right here and not fly away
I will start digging my way into the ground
A rabbit hole, maybe I will end up in China
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 6:07 PM UTC
You are my favorite pitstop
O, airport bookshop.
A coffee in hand and a book in my lap
is all I need to feel on top.
Jul 25, 2021
Jul 25, 2021 at 10:28 AM UTC
how soon do we forget
how we felt?
dealing with emotions
that never left
playing with the hand that
we were dealt
in this game
maybe i'm a sinner
and you're a saint
we got to stop pretending
what we ain't
why are we pointing fingers
anyway
when we're the same?
break up
make up
total
waste of
time
can we
please make
up our
minds
and stop
acting
like we're
blind?
if the water dries up
and the moon stops shining
stars fall
and the world goes blind, boy
you know
i'll be saving my love for you
for you
you're the
best mistake i've ever made
but we hold on
hold on
there's no *** of
gold in the rainbows we chase
i guess time's wasting
tick-tocking
lip-locking
how can we keep the feelings fresh?
how do we ziplock it?
wear your heart out on your sleeve
watch out for pickpockets
i guess to go to distance
we might need to pitstop it
i know love can be a beach with no shore
i count to 10
lost my temper
went back to 4
i know sometimes it's hard to realise i'm the one that you need
i had a dream we branched out
started a family tree
i feel like that everything we do is overdue
you ask why i love your dad so much
he's the older you
i wish that you were happy
i guess that's the one thing i should be providing
couples are only human
except you
i'm only lying to you
when i lie you down
just being honest
when you start as friends
it's hard to say you're never going back
if i'm not the one then i'm the best mistake you ever had
Dec 23, 2014
Dec 23, 2014 at 1:00 PM UTC
Eyes wide open
the adventure begins
kicking sand and crushing shells, hunting for starfish with his new friend.
Laughter and shouts fills the air as they run with the dog without a care.
Then back to the car to move up the coast and a chance for a moment to thaw themselves out.
Skipping like fools all holding hands watched by his mother as she laughs out loud.
Then calls to come as the day is done, their faces cold as they've looked in rockpools.
Mummy look! Here are the fishes as the time flies by and the wind is bitter.
Blue in their cheeks it was time to go, so shoulder rides to cross over the rocks.
Almost there as the cold wind bites, but always time for a pitstop for Ice cream.
Then home as they laugh and start to warm up, their memories made with pockets of shells and a stone for a friend.
A winter's day so windy and cold?
Couldn't see it myself, inside all were warm.
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 9:26 PM UTC
let’s talk about it.
like the way you talk blood into jumping out of skin for the sheer fun of it;
or the way you can make someone who loves you fold in on themselves until they twist into paper cranes.
let’s talk about how you take chalk outlines of people’s soul and teach them how to walk right into your life only for them to walk right out again.
How you have this reputation of being a pitstop that breaks hearts for the sake of it.
Let’s talk about it.
How did this happen to you;
did the lonely carve you into broken hands,
did the dark burn too many nightmares into the backs of your eyelids,
how did your name collect cobwebs,
You were always a drifter,
born and raised in a blur, a lifetime of mistakes filtering through the palm of the winds;
You were desperate for the sweeter things in life and it drove you to harvest wings,
so you could glide instead of float
through the abyss into anyone’s arms.
You told me you loved me when we were young and I said:
“the moon cannot return her love,
just like the light cannot return the dark”
and so you wept but no matter where you wandered on earth I was still always right there in the sky,
an unblinking phenomenon,
a friend.
You told me love had you at world war with yourself and I stretched my limbs over the sky and told you,
“you are the wind,
you will know where to settle your soul soon enough”
And one day you wandered through the garden of eden in the flesh,
paradise unloved and decaying and you settled for the first time in your life.
I remember you telling me your feet were kissed by the soil in her garden,
that gravity spoke to you and convinced you to stay,
I remember you telling me she was beautiful in ways you never imagined possible and that her heartbeat was just too good
to be true.
The universe bloomed in her, and she tasted the concrete love you established.
Flowers learned magic tricks in the sunlight, trees bore fruit to feed even the stars, and even the snake could not convince herself she was broken when you were around.
So let’s talk about it.
Let’s talk about the way your love for her is like an echo asking a shadow to dance,
and why you ****** it up.
May 16, 2018
May 16, 2018 at 10:41 AM UTC
I want a device that tells me all the thoughts I forgot in a day.
To revisit all the memories I saw
or to get back to tasks I said I would get to
It would be fun to see the progress of what I thought
and how the environment changes that
I could even revisit all the great thoughts that made me happy
I forget so much
This new device might get more screen time than my phone
It could save you so much time and energy
But maybe its worth it to forget
Maybe it clears room for new thoughts to make me happy
Maybe the thoughts I think are satisfied with their one life
Or maybe my mind is just a pitstop those thoughts make
before heading to the next head
Id love to remember how I wanted to end this poem though
May 11, 2025
May 11, 2025 at 2:24 AM UTC