"readjusted" poems
Your fingers traced the curve of my forearm like an atlas that mapped out the route that would lead you back to your heart, but you knew the journey was a labyrinth as complicated as the waterways of veins beneath my skin, so you removed your hand. Instead, your fingers found their familiar solace upon the sturdy neck and trembling strings of your guitar.
You plucked each one intently, running your hand down the edge of the fretboard and feeling each chord reverberating within the empty space of your every capillary.
I moved my gaze to your eyes, the black holes that have always swallowed me whole with the promise of never regurgitating me into bigger pieces than what I was originally.
I found myself reminiscing to a time whenever your eyes were identical to the ground we laid upon the afternoon we first decided to find versions of ourselves within the shapes of the clouds. But ever since, the innocence has slowly seeped from your expression and a stare as hard and cold as stone has taken resisidence in its place.
I allowed my eyes to slowly drift closed and suddenly I began to feel each strum of your fingers within my rib cage, the notes sketching portraits of a love never experienced upon my internal organs.
When you stopped playing, your hand immediately reached for the long-necked glass bottle resting upon the edge of your night stand. You brought it to your lips and tipped your head back, slowly drinking in every bad decision you have ever made and the after-taste that you had begun to crave. It burned your throat like acid, but each swallow was a reminder of just how hollow you had become.
Your fingers found their place once again and I readjusted beneath the weight of your expectations. I draped my legs over your bed like every profession of love that I have never said that hangs from the brim of my lips. My fingers danced across my thighs to the beat of your song, one not as familiar as the one of your unrequited love, but I still managed to dance the same.
And we seemed to lie like that for an eternity, you focused on every chord that never came out wrong like every word you ever said to me, and me basking in the sound of your unspoken promises and confessions just waiting for the day when they become reality.
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 3:30 PM UTC
When my ear first orbited your throat
to listen for a roaming balloon of nestled flesh
I heard trailer home hollowness
in copper vein pipes.
You draped a scarf over your superglued
neck, telling me it was normal to fistfight
death at 35.
On Dad’s desk, your weight breathed feebly
inside a sandwich bag. At night
its nuclear green cast Orions across our ceiling.
I never knew what real stars looked like,
while you had completely forgotten.
Years later,
in the dark of our 17-acre home,
you handed me your thyroid in its bag
swimming in opalescent fluid
and you looked at Polaris for the first time,
as that same glow painted the Big Dipper
on neighboring snowbanks.
I dropped the bag on the dry rot porch.
We heard your cancer flatten to a deflated bicycle tire,
sweating from death,
watched through squinted eyes as its glow turned
from hazardous neon to cinder.
It dried in the moonlight,
a forgotten, frostbitten raisin,
and our eyes readjusted to the perpetuating darkness.
I saw it then like a long constellation
line connecting star to forehead.
It had been a lie before,
but the North Star is truly the brightest
in the sky. We looked through its surface
underneath the star’s skin to its heart space,
and we realized that Polaris can only be seen
when thin plastic holds inside
damaged shadows of family
dinners bathed in deionized salt,
where I ponderously stared at the ****
in your esophagus, drawn with knife
like ruby crayon into office paper.
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 4:08 PM UTC
some girl muttered,
under her pretty breath,
through her bubblegum round lips-
that i was a train wreck-
a walking,
talking,
breathing,
train
wreck.
and i agreed.
because i'm not a beautiful suicide,
i didn't land on the top of a fancy limousine,
i didn't leap from the top of the empire state building,
i wreck full force and careless,
i wreck into others without braking,
i wreck in the middle of absolutely no where with no one to care
i wreck in small towns and i ruin lives.
i ruptured their organs
and i ripped their flesh-
i ruined their bones
and i ripped their ligaments-
i readjusted their joints
and i ravished their brains.
i slit their throats and
wrists
thighs
hips
just so i wouldn't feel alone
they were the same as me.
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 10:43 PM UTC
My feelings are always so powerful and unclear
These are feelings that will generate several types of fears
The way I feel is intense and full of emotion
Something you never considered until you sank my heart into the ocean
With chains and an anchor, down it all went
Shattered and cracked my feelings have never been more poorly spent
&& now you want to come back into my broken readjusted life?
Why don’t you just stay where you’re at and enjoy your new lovely wife
You think you can have your cake and eat it as well?
Why don’t you come on over so I can spoon feed you to hell
Because that’s what you want in the end, is it not?
You just want what you want and don’t want it to stop
But now you’ve realized that life isn’t a game
You were a player once but the player has now been played
So leave me out of all your negative misery you see
Because all of your insecurities are now well beneath me
If we ever really got together once more
I’d do injustice to you so fast, you’d feel completely ignored
And you won’t recognize my evil face
You won’t find that I left any kind of trace
So I suggest you be a man and know your rightful place.
Because your life became a lie and will always remain a disgrace
I'll forget about you soon enough though, hopefully after this one cife
I hope you watch me become a success and be an amazing mother and wife
To a man who deserves more than you should ever recieve again
I’m out of your cold world running as fast as I possibly can
I'm finally out of your cruel, restricting, forceful bare hands
So goodbye once and for all Mr. Cold Iceman
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 8:17 PM UTC
Love is not love that alters
When alteration finds.
Many gold bands are lost
To a readjusted mind
Pure gold will never tarnish
Tho' scored and bent may be.
True love is refined by our constancy.
Nov 5, 2011
Nov 5, 2011 at 2:45 PM UTC
our love was like a wire.
you bent it until it almost broke, but eventually when you got tired, you gave up and readjusted it back to how it started. however, there were still minor dents in it. the dents were overlooked, and things were normal again. you took the wire and put it in the back pocket of your black skinny jeans and walked around with it for a few days, only leaving it there for it to keep getting contorted, all under your control. you forgot about it, and didn't give it as much attention as you thought you did. when you were sick of the wire digging into your body, you got rid of it. you twisted it until it's weakness got the best of it. you bent the wire until you broke it.
what you don't know, is that i was on the other side of the wire. as you stretched and coiled every last bit of flexibility that now small and frail wire had, you did the same to me.
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 10:25 PM UTC
On the road
from Madrid to Malaga
you sat next to Miryam
in the coach
the scenery going by
the Spanish sun above
music from the radio
and she beside you
her head
against your shoulder
sleeping
her red hair
a mass of curls and waves
her eyes closed
her mouth slightly open
her hands crossed
in her lap
you sitting there
thinking of the base camp
in Madrid
the bar and *****
the music
in the small disco
and dancing
to the small hours
and she said
about her parents
and she being
for the first time
free to do
what she wanted
and she walked with you
back to her tent
and there she stood
and said
if I was alone
in this tent
I'd invite you in for ***
but I'm sharing
with another girl
and so did you share
with another guy
you said
wishing it otherwise
and so she kissed you
good night
and unzipped the tent
and went in
and off you walked
through the early morning dark
crossing the field of tents
trying to remember
where yours was
remembering it was by
the hedge with Bob's flag
on top waving silently
in the semi-dark
she stirred
against your shoulder
and readjusted her head
making that
I'm comfortable sound
and then she was off again
a Beatles's song
on the radio
someone sang along
you still sensing
that kiss of hers
her lips on yours
the night before
her hands
around your waist
her small ****
pressing against you
the smell of oranges
and ripe fruit
and her tongue invading
your mouth
touching yours
and your pecker stirring
from slumber
your hands on her ****
feeling the pockets
of her jeans
the smooth material
the studs
her near you
lips and tongues
and she stirred
and opened her eyes
and lifted her head
from your shoulder
and said
are we there yet?
no
you said
getting near
and she looked out
the window of the coach
and you studied
her profile
the blush of cheek
the nose
her neck
and the show
of naked shoulder
and she said
did I snore?
no
you said
good
she said
because sometimes
I tend to go off
into snoring land
and she smiled
and touched your thighs
and all you saw
was the blue world
of her cool blue eyes.
Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 1:49 AM UTC
My mind woke up, and its first thought was you.
Then my heart rubbed the grogginess out of its eyes and readjusted itself to the newness of the morning.
The instant it realized what my mind was thinking, a pang shot out all through it and it started to ache.
It was reminding me of why I shouldn't.
My heart and head do this every morning, and every morning I make them stop.
It's too draining to deal with on a daily basis.
My mind should know better by itself now, but it’s willing to break every single last rule when it comes to you.
Have you no mercy upon me? Upon my heart? Upon my mind?
Have you no compassion for the pain that you put me through?
Most mornings I feel guilty, as though I should go back to sleep, but there’s no point seeing as you take over my dreams too.
It’s always you, and I’m convinced that it always will be.
I go to sleep, it’s you.
In my dreams? You.
When I wake up... It’s no other than you.
The cycle is vicious.
You’ve overstayed your visit.
Please… just pack your bags and be gone, my head no longer wants to be your home.
Feb 11, 2012
Feb 11, 2012 at 11:15 AM UTC
I look.
I saw.
But you have all my attention.
You give.
I accept.
Because I still love you from the depth of my heart.
Others grows old and want younger.
Without realizing the discomfort.
With us.
We have adjusted and readjusted to connect.
So, why disrupt what we have between us?
I give.
You accept.
Because you know(truly do).
That I love you from the depth of my heart.
Jealousy isn't needed.
Because you're the one I like to flirt too.
Envy isn't warranted.
I'm firm in just loving you.
Because I love you from the depth of my heart.
Who couldn't?
Who wouldn't?
I do.
I will.
Untl I no longer can live.
Aug 22, 2012
Aug 22, 2012 at 10:41 AM UTC
Be obedient to your love and peace
Don’t pretend
Don’t deny
Don’t rush
sometimes
The process needs to be readjusted
And
That’s ok.
In the beginning it’s rough
We look forward to the ending but fear the
Loss of what could be
Feb 22, 2022
Feb 22, 2022 at 10:28 PM UTC
I was at dinner once, and I really liked how my fork looked, so I wanted to take a picture of it.
I was so proud of myself trying to center that fork in camera’s frame, proud of my ability to recognize something that I wanted for myself, and proud of my ability to do something about it, to literally capture what I wanted in my hand.
Then my friend leaned over from her side of the table and asked if I was taking a picture of the meal, and I said I wasn’t. She told me you should, since what I ordered just looked so appetizing. I didn’t want to seem disagreeable, and she meant well by it, so I put down my fork and aimed at the plate.
Then my other friend beside me who happened to be in the frame leaned in to be featured in my picture, saying with a friendly voice that I should get him in it too. I just wanted a picture of the food, but I didn’t want to seem disagreeable, so I readjusted the camera to include my friend.
When I did that, my other friends sitting beside me must’ve thought that I was inviting them, because a few of them began to lean in towards my friend that was leaning towards the food, one of them laughing that I should tag them if I post this. By this point I was trying to capture more than what I had wanted, but I didn’t want to seem disagreeable, so to make room for everyone in the picture, I stood up and leaned back.
That movement on my part must’ve meant something important to the rest of the table, because soon they all agreed that I should take a group picture and began arranging themselves for it. Turning away from the plate now to an entirely new subject, one of my friends asked a waiter if he could take our picture, since I should be in it too. I didn’t want to bother the busy worker, and in all honesty I just wanted to go back to eating, but I didn’t want to seem disagreeable, so I handed my phone to the waiter and met my friends on the other side of the table.
Posing for my own picture, I caught a glimpse of that fork that I had first found so interesting, and looking back at it, I think I blinked when the flash blinded me.
Feb 7, 2019
Feb 7, 2019 at 9:05 PM UTC
I’m casting my cares upon You,
while praying throughout the day.
I’m thankful for our relationship
and the Love of Your sacred sway
that permeates my entire being.
For I’ll keep on talking to You,
discussing the issues of my life,
since You will bring me through
safely by Your divine guidance.
In You alone, faith is entrusted,
as this analytical mindset of mine
had been vigorously readjusted.
Knowing that You’re everywhere,
I’ll remain… unceasing in prayer!
.
.
.
Author Notes
Loosely based on:
Psa 42; 1 Thes 5:16-18; 1 Pet 5:6-7;
John 16:13; Eph 3:16
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2014, All rights reserved.
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 11:01 AM UTC
A man stumbled over to Catherine’s car
and pounded on her window. She cracked it.
“W-welcome to New York. Want to buy a map?”
A cigarette filled in the large gap of missing teeth
in his smile, and the stench of alcohol ran over it.
The light changed, and Catherine sped off.
The man stepped backwards out of his sandals
and tripped on the curb. He landed in a pile
of garbage bags as Catherine readjusted
her mirror.
Welcome to New York.
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 12:27 PM UTC
This year I'm set free
able to exhale once again
As far too long
I've delayed the inevitable
to move forward
bearing witness
to my ability to prosper
I RECLAIM back myself
new fruits blossom
and life continually cycles
I can breathe with
the piano lifted away
I can see with
my focus readjusted
I can love
as I am able to live.
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 5:00 AM UTC
Finding beauty in everything is harder than it looks-
Until you come across a something, or someone so absolutely stunning that
Your eyes are completely readjusted.
Rose colored lenses replace your contacts and now finding beauty comes
As easy as using your green thumb to plant life into every inanimate object.
But like all wishes made, you have to be careful with wording, or something
Awful could happen- or simply realizing all good things must come to an end,
Magic does not last forever. The rabbit in the hat eventually gets sick of coming
Out for pure entertainment, and there seems to be blood pouring from the
Rectangular box the magician cut in half.
Maybe it was the angle at which I was watching,
Or maybe we are comfortable with the idea of having to see to believe-
Faith never worked out for me, generally speaking it is a great concept,
But not something I could firmly grasp.
I could believe in the magic of it all
It was so easily displayed, illusions tossed around
Science, vaguely fabricating facts- using monstrous vocabulary to
Make us believe what we were reading
Maybe that's all love is.
Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 7:46 AM UTC
This year I'm set free
as far too long
I've delayed the inevitable
to move forward
Bearing witness
to my ability to prosper
I claim back myself
New fruits blossom
and life continually cycles
I can breathe with
the piano lifted away
I can see with
my focus readjusted
I can love
as I am able to live.
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 1:54 AM UTC
Re words:
rejoint my conscious self,
reiterate, as it is late, I am old,
reread
my prior poems, rewrite them, indeed,
rebuild them, redo them in their entirety,
so you can resell them and be rediscovered!
retake them, rekindle & rearrange in new combinations,
rewarmed, you are re-rewarded in their reassembly,
again reabsorb the moment from wells beneath your skin tissue,
recall the prescient exactitude of what you were then feeling,
readjusted for today’s new filters, recalculate the cost,
replace the cast with renewed images, refreshed faces,
new alpha dogs.
if you can resell them, they will rebuy them, no one the wiser,
thus, regain the old glory, redemption, no need to repent,
just rejoice and sleep another hundred years.
revenged.
Aug 17 2022 11:01 PM
Nov 5, 2022
Nov 5, 2022 at 8:59 AM UTC
She was finding it hard to not look at him. She was glad he was driving right now.
She noticed his hands for the first time. His face didn't betray his age. He was too colored, by experience or value, to have something so insignificant obviously displayed on his features.
He fiddled his hand over the steering wheel. She could see a few protruding veins. His forearms, still half-covered, showed skin that looked worn and weary, but heavily muscled. She wondered why she had ever looked to his face to find his age. It clearly was of less use to her than his hands.
He readjusted himself beside her, picking his left leg up and propping it up to his thigh in the drivers seat. The closed triangle lost her attention.
She looked to her own hand, wondering if the age was displayed in it, as well. Pale, fleshy, youthfulness; nothing marred by lines or dryness to meet her view. Perhaps, this was just a marker of work. She had done little with her time. He looked over at her for a moment, eyes grinning with what his mouth wouldn't dare speak. They lock eyes and when the contact breaks, continue to drift down the road.
"How old are you?" She asks him. The first words she had spoken to him since their physical encounter. He considers her for a moment.
"I'm 40."
"Oh."
"What?" He asks her.
"I don't know."
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 10:43 PM UTC
The distinct click-clack of rustic red leather cowboy boots were what first captured my attention. She had her nose in a well-worn book as she shuffled down the parkway to a bench. As she turned the page, I could see an indentation of her fingers on the cover. Although she must have poured through the pages numerous times, she was chewing on her slightly plump lips as if she wasn't sure what fate were to become of her favorite character. The frames of her glasses were not intentionally big, but appeared bulky due to her small stature. The black lenses would occasionally slide down her sun-kissed nose but would soon be readjusted without notice. Her skin was pale enough that her old and slightly frayed jeans must surely still stain her legs blue. As I was about to tear my eyes away from her innocent demeanor, a slight breeze rustled through her kinked long hair exposing a symbol of defiance inked in the form of an animal between her shoulder blades. Her presence was a foreign pleasantry.
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 1:22 AM UTC
Existing is torture, a poisonous cry
Living a dream of beauty and colour
but Your dreams were cut short
I don't know why
yet You will never know laughter
Or stories with a happily ever after
no childhood dreams in your unopened eyes
your dreams were cut short
too soon for your time.
Such beauty ruined with horror
left me agony not bliss,
Without you can I even exist????
~O my sky
=============================
Inside winded rain I come
Dancing like a flame of sun.
Weep no more my eternal love
soon we shall fly like a dove.
Scrap all sorrow and your pain
Soulmates we are I do claim.
Release the loss and all regret
Joy is mine so don't you sweat.
Know I'm now safe and sound,
out of body I'm around.
I drift at thy side with pride,
please feel peace now deep inside.
Then in death we'll surely meet
life continues its so sweet.
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 5:42 PM UTC