"playbook" poems
I trace the memories kept behind like fingerprints.
The love we had is now crushed and swept away by a wave of
our indolence and insanity.
I go back to the time of sadness,
Because it was the sadness of her eyes the made me
happy
happy
happy
and somewhat sane…
All I have left are the mental photographs of what happened
and of wanting what could have been. I leave now with all the
things that I traced—things that can never be erased
like fingerprints that never
ever had changed.
I sit here alone in this disease-ridden couch, with my
disease-ridden hope. And I will memorize your eyes,
blinking to the rhythm of you heartbeat, dancing in a starlit daydream—as
I am wishing of a memory where you gave me
everything you had
and where I offered you the pieces that were left
of me.
I kept all memories of you in a heart-shaped box,
where it is slowly crumbling as time goes by.
I kept all your secrets,
your playbook,
your cards,
your broken cassettes and cigarettes
our now and always,
your sad eyes and the happiness you had
and which made me smile again.
So maybe fingerprints and memories share a common thing. They say
that “good things happen to those who wait”, I’d say keep on waiting,
******** I have been waiting, and still all I’ve traced is
the measurements of my
indolence and insanity. So yeah, keep on waiting.
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 11:35 PM UTC
*Didn't it sound a lot like something
He said a long time ago?
Now it makes sense
Dripping from honey lips*
I lowered the box into the ground
Empty but only I knew as much
Nothing to see, nothing to touch
My own heart was buried deeper down
Looking up I saw you shed a tear
For all I was laying to rest
Was to you a memory blessed
A short respite, the re-emergence of fear
Or maybe I had it wrong
You could have known all along
I could have been the one deceived
Or maybe I only thought you believed
Step back
She sings the Mantra
Let her finish
Before we continue
*Hare Krishna ¥ Hare Krishna
Krishna Krishna ¥ Rama Rama
Hare Rama ¥ Hare Rama
Rama Rama ¥ Krishna Krishna*
I could tell you reasons for what I've done
Before the passion flamed
I dreamed her naked, unashamed
Innocent as the day was young
I thought it was love that drove me on
Even when the snake bared it's fangs
Injected it's venom of change
Convinced my compassion was strong
Now I know that it can't be forgiven
The arrows pierce you from behind
Weaker still your weakened mind
And contaminate your imagination
Stole a page from God's playbook
I'm sorry, my old friend, that you fell
But I have ****** myself to hell
Just one page was all it took
*this end is for me even more than it is for you
the fog in the forest is still sickly thick
and you can't see the forest for the trees
I dragged it out for too long
but I know your ignorance is blissful and I don't blame you
I'd do the same thing if I were in your shoes*
It was my own guilt that stopped me cold
Made me think twice of what I'd done
I know you'd just soon it go on and on
(And on and on)
But seeing you so often demeaned is getting so very old
•••••••••••••
Cry when you hear the song
Crying is often the best thing to do
Break down for an hour, in the back of your mind
Know it gets better when the grieving is through
Don't take anything she said for granted
She felt she had good advice
But you gotta let it work
Learn how to pray
Build a fortress around your mind
Evict the rogue voices
*"This is rebirth
The hardest word
Held under water
This is death
I'm out of breath
Held under water"
- Dustin Carpenter
"Held Under Water"
(big sleep., 1988)*
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 12:54 AM UTC
I find it interesting,
The way we mold ourselves to the given situation
Different faces means new spaces
to fill liquid in, intoxicate, and ultimately change them.
So we need our weapons clasped in our grip
catch a bad intention, make sure they're the ones who slip...
No! We've been doing this all wrong.
Keeping the walls up inhibits growth to be strong
Even if it takes, "far, too long."
Inevitably we exclaim pitches that reside in the same song.
The color-changing, tree-walkers are said to blend into their environment.
This is actually not true.
They change based on light intensity, temperature, and mood.
The personality-changing, free-walkers change based,
On the type of reaction they want to get out of you.
After all you could be the ***** to hold together the whole scheme
Caught in a feverish nightmare, when it seemed to be a sweet dream
Solitary work is needed, now, to avoid a potential sting
And so I take the time to rhyme this,
Evaluating the nature of everything.
The mouth can be, but the eyes are not untruthful
They precipitate pictures, from the scary to the downright beautiful
Look deep within yourself, and see your own array of colors.
We may be blind to the importance of some priorities, but I feel we're all lovers.
"Hurt people hurt people," In my life it's a fact.
But remember you can only be responsible for how you act.
No offense or defensive tactics,
Throw the whole playbook out.
Conducting this vessel requires much practice,
Reflect needs of warmth for the seeds to sprout
Make sure you don't love someone, just for what they can give to you.
Highlight their radiance, for making you feel the way you do
The cycle, is only as vicious as one portrays it
The choice is ours, and I choose to change it.
Right here,
right now
Breathe in,
Feel the oxygen go down
Hold it,
For a moment
Every exhale reminds us,
That life's color is golden.
So fold up the clothes,
And walk out the door.
So many illuminated pigmentations to see,
~Everybody's a new world to explore~
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 4:08 PM UTC
Manipulating information
To craftily plot your lore
Is necessary if you want
To continue an information war.
Specific example: Deny Russian
Collusion and interference in
U.S. elections, and do not stop
Seeking info that you can spin.
After months of denying Russian
Cyber attacks and election meddling,
Then admit the possibility
Through a little backpedaling.
Say that well…maybe they meddled,
But hastily add: so did others.
Say you'd still end all queries
And probes if you had your druthers.
It's vital, of course, that you keep
Bashing the press. Be sure to accuse
Investigative journalists
Of making up tons of fake news.
Finally, say the Russians will
Interfere in the U.S., and that's
How in elections this November
They plan to help the DEMOCRATS!
Why? Because you're so hard
(Wink!) on Russia. You'll be winning.
Your fawning fans will eat it up,
And you will have all heads spinning.
Your friends on your favorite TV station
Will help you criticize and demean
Those who don't agree with you.
Praise to your propaganda machine!
Who cares what the world thinks?
You've got your fans; you've got your base.
There's no match for a stable genius
Who says to the world, "In your face!"
-by Bob B (7-25-18)
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 10:21 AM UTC
I am tired of being an empty shell that you find beautiful & eccentric.
I am tired of being a trope made by authors and directors.
I am like war and peace and not like a tissue paper you made me out to be.
I am tired of being your favourite shade of red.
I am tired of being a brush stroke, when I am the entire painting.
I am tired of being pinned to a pedestal.
I am tired of my existence and my name being relative.
I am tired of being a zany sidekick to the male protagonist in the movie that is my life.
I am tired of you thinking that I need help stilling the edges of my narrative, who longs for a tether or a buoy to keep her from flying off or sinking down.
I am tired of being told – unconventional, different and other such synonyms by boys, that I am not like other girls as if they are a disease and I am magic.
I am tired to be known as someone with wacky quirks and idiosyncrasies.
I am tired of being Alaska Young.
I am tired of being Sam from The Perks of Being a Wallflower.
I am tired of being Tiffany from The Silver Linings Playbook.
I am tired of being tagged as Sam from Garden State.
Or even Marla Singer from Fight Club.
Or even an Amelie or Penny from Almost Famous.
And every Zooey Deschanel character.
I am a Clementine.
I’m a Sylvia Plath.
I’m a Dorothy Parker.
A Maya and a Margaret.
You see, I am well versed
in death and in silence.
I have my interests and I am like all of the above. But I am “like” them. I am not them.
I am me.
I am scared now.
Scared of boys claiming to be wrapped in barbed wire
but is really a caged petting animal in the zoo.
I am tired of boys who thinks romance is a Hemingway novel.
But, most importantly I am tired.
Tired of men not falling in love with me
but instead falling in love with the idea of me.
Nomoreokaythankyouplease.
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 3:22 AM UTC
an angel and a devil materialize on each shoulder,
standing beneath the stage lights,
empty-mouthed, waiting for a whisper of a line,
but who is to say what’s wrong or right?
i know I’m not.
their playbook dances in my head,
so if not me, then who?
n.h.
Sep 10, 2025
Sep 10, 2025 at 10:04 AM UTC
Remembering is not easy.
There are memories we choose to forget,
And memories that choose to forget us.
I was looking through old photos today.
Faces clear,
Names cloudy.
The bully.
The girl I had a crush on.
The rich kid.
Names long forgotten.
I found an old playbook today.
"Memphis."
I wonder what that was about.
I wonder who I was with.
I wonder if I liked it.
Pictures of a sunrise from summer.
I wonder how it felt on my skin.
I wonder if I smiled.
I wonder what time it was.
But the girl I passed who was crying three years ago,
The blood running down my arm,
The people I loved who did not love me,
Haunting memories.
For the people we forget move on,
And the people we remember remain frozen.
Pulling us back from the present,
Until we finally forget ourselves.
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 9:59 PM UTC
Promise to nominate a judge
Who will reverse previous decisions.
Relish the opportunity
To fan the flames of people's divisions.
Refuse to provide the senators
With all of the documents that they need
To allow for careful, researched judgment.
Your nominee will be guaranteed.
Be sure the person you nominate
Will have your back if things get hairy.
Agreeing that you're above the law
Is absolutely necessary.
Let ideology be
The key factor for stacking the Court.
Your starry-eyed supporters will
Give you their undying support.
Train your nominee to behave
Just like you when at a hearing.
Your base will consequently find
The person even more endearing.
If any dirt might come up,
Limit the background investigation
To make it essentially a sham.
And lie without reservation.
Persuade Republicans in Congress
To sycophantly do your bidding.
You scratch their backs; they'll scratch yours.
Works like a charm. I'm not kidding!
Belittle dissenters. People who don't
Support you, you humiliate.
Stick to this plan, for that's how you
Are going to make this country great.
-by Bob B (10-5-18)
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 8:35 AM UTC
Defrauding the public isn't hard
When you're one of the Trumps.
The president is especially good
At duping his loyal chumps.
So, after Trump fired James Comey,
He fired AG Sessions.
Those two firings were just a part
Of the president's indiscretions.
Next came Matthew Whitaker--
A Donald Trump lackey--
As acting AG, and whose background
Was--let's say--a bit tacky.
Now AG Barr is there
To willingly play his part
And show how he and Trump are both
Connected heart to heart.
Barr's recent appointment has
Very clearly shown
That the president has managed
To get his Roy Cohn.
Keeping Congress from seeing the full
Mueller report, Barr
Acts LESS like a fair AG
And MORE like a czar.
Flouting the rule of law, Trump
And Barr, political hacks,
Can end up doing a lot of damage
Behind Americans' backs.
Now Barr has mentioned the word
"Spying." It never fails
That Trump's appointees tend to go
Completely off the rails.
Making Trump a victim only
Satisfies his base.
Trump and Barr don't care whether
Their actions are a disgrace.
Now the tinfoil-hat group can say
"All the acrimony
Toward Trump is a nasty plot."
What a bunch of baloney!
Our leadership has never been
So chaotic. Never!
Elections, they say, have consequences.
Boy do they ever!
-by Bob B (4-11-19)
Apr 11, 2019
Apr 11, 2019 at 1:49 PM UTC
The Dems have taken back the House!
Hopefully, there now will be
For Donald Trump and his admin team
Some accountability.
For two years, Republicans
Have groveled before the man at the top,
Assisting him in obstructing justice.
The nonsense is going to have to stop.
The president's relationship
With the truth worsens every day.
Normal leaders would watch their step,
But his huge ego gets in his way.
Trump’s talking points, for instance,
At a recent Cabinet meeting
Were right out of Putin’s playbook--
Not worthy of even retweeting.
Well, now it’s about time
That members of Congress voice their concern.
Forget about being obsequious,
Mealy-mouthed or taciturn!
Now the American people will have
A House that really cares about them--
One that will fight for justice and also
Condemn that which it ought to condemn.
Many sworn into office today
Reflect diversity in their faces--
Mainly among the Democrats,
Who won highly competitive races.
Progressive change won’t be easy.
There’s STILL a storm that we have to weather:
Trump’s sycophants in the Senate--
Another story altogether.
The past two years have clearly shown us
What a horrible mess we're in.
Positive change will move us forward.
Let the oversight begin!
-by Bob B (1-3-19)
Jan 4, 2019
Jan 4, 2019 at 7:44 AM UTC
Put your thumb in the middle and separate the pages,
your gonna have some fun, I guarantee it sages!
put it to your face and look into the side,
now turn your head up and face to-ward the sky,
now bend your wrist and flap it and follow it along,
chirp, chirp, tweet, tweet sing the birdies song!
Run around the room and zoom-zoom Mr. Birdie,
now bend your wrist and flap it and follow it along,
chirp, chirp, tweet, tweet sing the birdies song!
run around in circles and make ‘em really wide,
remember your flying like the birdie in the sky!
now bend your wrist and flap it and follow it some more,
chirp, chirp, tweet, tweet watch the birdies soar!
round and round you go, flap the book to make a sound,
really fast, let it go, watch it flutter to the ground!
keep yourself zooming now you are Mr. Birdie,
when you play with books you can feel a little nerdy!
jump to the ground and make yourself a nest,
it’s time for all the birdies to get a little rest!
everybody drop and line up right along,
chirp, chirp, tweet, tweet we sang the birdies song!
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 12:50 PM UTC
Topic of the day
As I walked in the store
Was the military going gay
Storekeeper ready for war
I liked the guy normally
So I hated to spring my trap
But its what I do ...regretfully
I listen to people and see past the crap
It doesn't make me many friends
But I'll.trade that for any light I create
In those dark and dingy corners
Where no reason or reality has...
,,,,,,been able ......to ..penetrate
Ever notice how people resent it
If you really listen as they speak
So sometimes I pretend to be vapid
So I won't be considered some kind of freak
It doesn't work either
Cause they always see it in my eyes
And say "WHAT ? ,You really think I'm wrong.?"
And I get the job for which noone else applies
Somewhere in my DNA is a madman gene
Where I say if 2 x 2 is 4 then 200 x 200 is 4
The zero is a distraction if allowed to come between
Reason and abstraction the surface and the core
So I jumped right in that day
When any normal person wouldn't dare
"Whats your objection Mr. Appleton
You don't think all things should be fair
And he pulled out the playbook to find a quote
A book that is a cover and a cover not a word in between
Censoring out all reason means that thats "all she wrote"
Then out it came all the same a 7 with 4 zeros trailing along
"They shouldn't be allowed to be in the military cause ...
I'm thinking don't use the zeros no no .. I FOUGHT IN VIETNAM
Click ...click ...CLICK....
SO YOU"RE SAYING YOU WENT AND FOUGHT FOR FREEDOM?
HE AGREED So I let him keep the zeros (a couple more seconds)
And they have a right in a free country to be who they are? I asked
He nodded as I reclaimed the now sad little zeros CLICK....
IM CONFUSED Sir they get freedoms men FOUGHT and died for
He again nodded *** but they don't have to pay for it.? Right?
I just went ahead and took all his playbook stash of zeros CLICK
Click click .I leaned and whispered "Thats a hell of a deal - how you were willing to fight and die click click click click so gay men
Could stay here where its safe while you pay for him to ****
Click click click click.... Needless to say I had to find a new store to shop at.CLICK.
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 3:35 AM UTC
The mind collects moments
bad ones and weepy ones
moments to spark fires
and ignite engines
moments to roast the heart upon a spit
to watch the ****** sizzling juices of love
drip down and burn off into smoke
the mind is a storehouse
though vast isn’t spacious
its compartments crammed
full to popping
under the strain
of all the moments in time it collects
to make the body recall
and you gawk at the wreckage
in wondrous amazement
moments in bubbles
floating past on repeat
mind digs in the toy chest
throwing up dreams
more moments of nothing
to hold you away from me
two nations at war for my soul
and all three are me
what mind fudgery
and horrific intent
the whole point is you
just you, nothing else
think what that reality means
whatever you like
life isn’t a playbook of rules
some other person can write
real life is lived
and what can that mean?
other than whatever life looks like
when you’re living through me
each time you can’t see the forest in the leaves
the moments you seem to pull back out of me
are only a specter of what isn’t true
only a reminder to remember your Truth
and turn once again to the Self that is real
and is one with the whole of all life that is living
can you gain joy from rehearsing old stories?
of worries and woes and doubtful discoveries
of fake images and faulty dreamscapes
then go on, by all means, let mind keep collecting
and storing away
for some other fake day
you can’t really be living
if you keep letting mind
give you moments to see
instead of real life
living in your True Self
and you truly seeing
May 7, 2020
May 7, 2020 at 2:54 PM UTC
I don't have a playbook for this love.
In every other relationship I have or had, there is a decoding:
• If he does this, it means...
• When this situation happens, the correct response is...
• When he says this, it indicates...
There are timetables and destinations
stages that must occur in sequence
things that have to happen before certain conversations can be had
milestones
goals
And here I am
I have no expectations
I have no game plan
There is no strategy
I am
I love
Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 1:56 PM UTC
You know how it hits you? The weight just slams into you and wonder how you stood so tall for so long.
Lately I have felt so ugly. Like repulsively ugly. Like to the point where I cry thinking about it and deciding what to wear is a losing battle every day.
I like to sleep with a couple of books on my bed. They keep me company.
I want to let my friend know how hot this fire is getting inside me. I want to know that when I sleep I sometimes think of him. I want to kiss him and i want to say how I feel like Tiffany does in silver linings playbook.
I am not okay after all. I am heartbreak and loneliness and I will succeed I have to succeed what if I don't succeed
Am I too broken? Lately this glass has been spilled all over the floor and it just keeps pouring and cutting anyone that cares enough to get close.
See I have a problem. I am so scared of being liked of being loved. I joke about the ******** I don't but ******** are safe. They will never truly love me as deeply as I love them they will break my heart all the time and I will cry but I know that we all get what's coming to us.
I want to believe I deserve something good but its so much easier said than done
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 1:28 AM UTC
Water drips
counting seconds
one by one
light to dark
lay me to sleep
give me playbook as a pillow
cover me with old papers
whіsреr me headlines
breathe deeper
move slower
crawl closer
stay longer
discomb my eyebrow
grasp the wrong elbow
mess sugar with pepper
till the next season come
Jan 12, 2017
Jan 12, 2017 at 10:03 AM UTC
tell me I'm too depressed.
That it's better to go out than to see me.
Your judgements hurt,
I feel like Jennifer Lawrence in Silver Linings Playbook,
"I opened up to you, and you judged me."
I thought you hurt me before,
but your insensitive judgements stung worse than anything else.
I can't believe you judged me,
even worse I can't believe you said that to me.
If I ever judged you,
I kept it to myself.
I never wanted to break you,
I guess we're different in that way.
Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 4:07 PM UTC
You'd think i would be done with writing all this poetry and sappy love s***about you but truth is I'm just now getting started you got to me tore my walls down I'm exposed no more mystery my playbook. Has been leaked can't help but be bitter you wasted my time crushed on you for months dreaming one day you'd be mine finally gotcha never wanted to lose you but **** got a little rocky and you jumped off the boat people started rumors and you believed them. Never even asked me for the truth I got no reason to lie nothing to hide I was down for you but its obvious you wasn't for me I treated you like fine China turns out your just a paper plate ..... You use to be the one i would go to when I needed to escape what happen to us ? Like **** I just miss how it use to be me and you together there was nothing better I swear we weren't a perfect match but you were perfect for me now I'm lost excepted to move on I can't though because my heart belongs to someone else I can't waste nobody's time when I got somebody else on my mind I can't move forward i would rather be in the past before my heart was in a cast .....
Feb 22, 2018
Feb 22, 2018 at 7:07 PM UTC
Autumn sneaked in
I was singing hymns from a playbook
An upside-down playbook as it was
Your red flush was like the leaves outside
The wind blew the drums of our windows
I shook and shrank
You gushed and it was an elixir
"Soon, those ripe apples would fall."
I eye the apples with liveliness
Your eyes gleamed at my pure innocence
Sun is rusting like the leaves outside
Your lullabies were warm like your affection
I slept as sweet as your smile...
Apr 15, 2021
Apr 15, 2021 at 12:40 PM UTC
Stunted, the same, by
highs
and
lows
alike.
A jubilant parade inside
some nights.
Silver linings? Ticking timebombs! Infinite splinters!
No good time left unexploded.
Rusted blood iron and red wine
filling my eyes.
Tired of feeling "weird."
Tired of knowing I'm being.
I wish I wanted anything in a way that didn't
scare me.
I wish I could love anything in ways that
couldn't hurt--
--inward or out--
I wish...
_I think..._
If I sit on _this_ bench...for a _long_ time,
and keep _perfectly_ still...but make subtle
eye contact
with some of the crows...
they'll accept me as one of them?
Teach me to fly
Or, at least, hide
in plain sight.
A new vocabulary for my quiet
when it starts to get mean.
Entangled, alike, by
lows
and
highs,
the same.
Convenient jailbreak for a Name--
--_Say it._
Chewing paper? Eat the playbook. Shred this formula.
No good night goes unpunished.
Rusted blood in my mouth, and red wine--
crying outside
Tired of being fragile
Tired of knowing I know.
And how 'bout the crows?
I'm good for a laugh, they suppose.
Mar 25, 2025
Mar 25, 2025 at 11:39 AM UTC
Upon (die) re rhea ding previous poem
All In The Name Of "Progress" zen
a glaring, leering,
and twittering left par wren
dared to a right (i.e. bribe)
corrective punctuation measure
slyly slipping Special Ops symbol ")"
for so many yen,
thus see slipped thru my excellent
proof reading, when
lo and behold consternation,
inconsideration, and perturbation
I thought to take a page
from playbook of Sylvia Plath,
and stick my head in the oven
but lo, a sardine recipe
(though a bit fishy),
could be found necessitating cauldron
only available for purchase in Turin
thus donned with a shrouded cape,
aye didst make whoosh,
hence, went there and came back
and frankly tubby earnest,
thence began stir'n
a bubbling concoction brew
though duration for perfect consistency
aye lacked any clue
thus, needed to contact
Hannibal the cannibal
asper what to do
in order (I explained)
to sever livingsocial,
and forever hang my head in shame
cuz, accidentally omitting
one right parenthesis too few
hence, esteemed flawless glory,
(sans error free grammarian
reputation pitched downward
where careless evinced
Kamikaze nosedive, where
matter of fact gross humiliation
instantaneously grew
and the only viable option
forced me to hew
admitting to egregious, fatuous, abhorent
and readily confesses
compunction viz, grievously
blatant Anglo Saxon
Horrifying transgression
involving backward curved "C" sin bent
a most execrable,
incorrigible, and unforgivable
literary faux pas incurring
major cosmic event
stripped of title special
Das Scribe double bubble "A" gent!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Upon complying never to err again
Matthew Scott Harris since
accepted plea bargain
accepting sentence resting his chin
til indelible necklaced "U" lettered grin
forever visible to kith and kin.
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 3:45 PM UTC
I walk into a narrow entry way
where the curtains are closed in the room beyond.
I extend my hand, see their eyes, and convert it
into a pleasant, not at all unsettled wave.
hello, how do you do. it states more than asks
because no one wants to share
(even though I really did want to know)
Let's look at my strangeness,
what they call odd,
and I call "different,"
the compliment kind,
like when your parents reward your eccentricities
with boxes of crayons and plenty of paper.
color outside the paper, if you want
What happens when a little girl loved by many
grows up
and becomes a swan smeared in mud with ballet shoes,
untied, ribbons dragging behind,
occasionally tripping not only herself,
but, even worse,
all in her path.
Okay, now to return to the place where I stand,
on the threshold of acceptance and rejection.
No one wins this game, you know.
I will look at the ground, at my shoes,
then at his because what kind of writer would I be
if I didn't look at worn leather sneakers,
black laces frayed at one lace end,
and then write about them?
Who would I be if I couldn't look at a room and a pair of people,
whose curious eyes and glances burn invisible candles
to one pathetic apologetic wick?
In my mind I go back to that moment,
and I blame the clothes I chose
and the words I said and said,
how I fumbled to find a place in the playbook
of How to Please Parents.
I unbuy presents and unworry hours of trepidation.
I unsweat my palms and uncry my tears,
even though I will recry them when I find out
what I am really am,
not even a who,
to those who unsee
me.
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 1:24 AM UTC
Quit while you’re ahead
That’s what my dad always said
And it’s great advice
But suffice
It to say
That’s just not the way
I operate
Because my heart won’t cooperate
With my mind
I find
That my heart wants to talk and to love and express
My feelings and quite frankly I detest
The way I make myself feel
Like I’m on the other end of a raw deal
With my emotions spinning like a wheel
Round and around and around and around
My heart twisted and stretched and wound
Up tightly
Nauseous and nervous and anxious nightly
And daily but rightly
So
Because I have nothing to show
For it
Just a few hundred terrible poems writ
And a growling angsty feeling in the pit
Of my stomach
And the desire to wear a fake smile
At least for a little while
Until the ******** begins to pile
Up again
Until it gets to the point when
I want to give in
When I want to stop caring and let the anxiety win
Anxiety
The thing killing our society
Slowly and surely from the inside
Pushing you down and causing your confidence to subside
Ripping a hole in you so wide
That you’re drained and deflated and fried
And feeling like an important part of you died
But anxiety is never satisfied
It will ruin your life with you powerless and along for the ride
But worst of all: it robs you of your pride
Pride
That thing that I’ve always denied
That I’ve had
The thing that I’ve been told my whole life is very bad
Because they say pride is a sin
But no pride at all is skirting that thin
Line between sin and what is fine
What is acceptable
So
Just because I want to know
How close can you come without being susceptible
To the pride before a fall
Because that hubris is perceptible to all
So it’s your call
Whether you want to stand tall
Pridefully sin and eventually fall
If you have the audacity, the ***** or the gall
Or if you want to let go and step back
And give in
And throw pride to the wind
But be careful
And if you’re religious be prayerful
And even if you’re not
You might want to give it a shot
Because you can be proud
Though the criticism will be loud
You can lack pride
And never have anyone on your side
Or
Furthermore
There’s one more
Choice
Stop listening to your inner voice
Stop listening to anyone who wants to keep you down
Stop listening to anyone who wants to see you breakdown
Start realizing you’re worth a robe, a scepter, and a crown
Start believing that you’re sourdough even if you’re wonder bread
Remember all the good things that all the good ones said
And when you finally get there and you’re positive in the head
Take a page from my dad’s playbook and quit while you’re ahead
Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 7:57 AM UTC
A light cold rain began to fall, I could see my
breath like smoke in the air, our brief Fall had
become our early Winter, I chill quivered in
response, and zipped up my jacket. Also, my
aging legs required a brief respite, I had not
intended to walk so far.
Taking shelter under a river birch tree, I huddled
and shivered beneath the hood of my rain parka.
The creek less than five feet away flowed briskly
past, swollen with three days of rain, all around
me falling like confetti, golden Birch leaves slowly
fluttered down upon the surface of the creek,
glimmering on the dark water like so many tiny
glowing Japanese lanterns upon a tiny ocean,
quickly swept away downstream.
Within minutes, those leaves that made it that far
would float, or flow into the Willamette River,
and by nightfall some would find their way into
the mighty Columbia River, forty miles distant.
Just maybe, perhaps by tomorrow a few might
actually, find their way West to reach and mix
into the briny Pacific Sea.
What a nearly wonderous journey to behold and
contemplate, one tiny footnote in the many chapters
and story within the pages of nature's earthly playbook.
All things in balance, all with a purpose.
Dec 5, 2024
Dec 5, 2024 at 1:48 AM UTC