"scatterbrained" poems
I am a white, Jewish girl from Florida.
Hit me.
Hit me with your white girl jokes,
Your Jewish American Princess stereotypes.
I will giggle and squeal right along with you.
Because yeah,
I do order white chocolate mocha frappuchinos from Starbucks,
I Instagram pictures of my nails,
I take selfies, whiten my teeth, straighten my hair,
Shop at Forever21 and drink Naked Juice like it is my job.
Yeah, my daddy buys me things,
I don’t pay for my data plan,
There’s no way in hell I would drive a sedan,
I wear Nike shorts and avoid any nearby cameraman,
And let me tell you, I love jamming out to old school Britney Spears.
Hit me one more time, because none of that means I am any less intelligent,
Any less diligent,
Any less likely to face judgment
Than any other slice of diversity around me –
I am a white, Jewish girl
My nose is not its own cartoon,
I eat bagels (but I absolutely hate lox),
I’m not tan or even the least bit tinted,
And god knows I don’t wear Uggs.
Tell me I need to get married young,
Major in business,
Wear clothes that leave me airless,
Get some of that European gracefulness,
But don’t tell me I’m dumb.
Don’t tell me I’m not thoughtful.
I’m a white girl.
Take a glance at my resourcefulness,
Understand my goals of being ambitious,
Get rid of your own stereotype-inducing cockiness,
And notice me in all of my flawlessness.
Because I am a white girl,
And I am unique, strong, inventive,
Empowered, passionate, adventurous,
Indomitable, unbeatable.
I am an individual –
Not part of some whole that you put me in to stabilize your mold,
Not the example of a societally scatterbrained ***** meant to be your centerfold,
Not a previously worn-out piece of clothing thrown to the gutter unsold,
Rather a human being of my own rules and my own morals
A human being with ideas and intelligence and power,
A white, Jewish girl,
A person.
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 5:31 PM UTC
i am a woman who hasn't gotten over her girlhood strifes. i am alive in conflict & chaos; when storms still i tremble. i struggle with questions of my own importance. if i am your leaning post, why do i feel so alone? i am one ocean with many seas, rivers, harbours & waterfalls - each with their own names. i am not of this realm, yet my father calls me worldly. i struggle with questions of my own identity. if everyone sees me as one solid being, why do i feel so broken? i am a lover of opposites, of balanced scales, of reflections: black & white, girls & boys, sea & sky, everything & nothing, always & never. the sometimes, the somewhat, the earth, transvestites, grey zones: they don't sit well with me. & yet i am spokesperson for the exceptions (i before e, except after c. using drugs to have *** with people is assault, except for ****** i only like to write with black pens, except when I want to use a pencil. i only drink black coffee, except when I crave a double-double. i only **** girls, except when i need a **** each girl has her own firm resolve, that is contradicted with another's opinions: my whole existence is self-hypocrisy. i struggle with questions of conflicts in my own interest. if i am decided, why do i peer with longing at the other options? i am a planner, an organizer, a sorter: i put my problems in piles. i am erratic, scatterbrained & impulsive. i use my abilities to try to outsmart my destructive tendencies; to try & balance the scales. my flighty adventures often win over my obsessive habits. i struggle with questions of my own intent. if i am scared of commitment, why do i keep promising?
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 4:06 PM UTC
Wishing washy whimsy,
Hoping dreams aren't flimsy.
In cloud moons so ditzy.
Magic and creative,
Scatterbrained and native,
Impulsive, evasive.
Chasing rainbows always
Airhead bubbles. You stray
Light and fickle to play.
©Jacqui Slade
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 12:55 PM UTC
*his touch was electrifying,
he made me believe our love
was strong enough
to shift mountains,
to stop time,
end all pain.
but then I found out.
I found the truth
and it rattled my brain,
churned my stomach,
sliced through my core.
I believed your false grin
and mistaked it for being mine.
you lied to me about our love,
you said I was the only one.
you left me dumbfounded
and scatterbrained.
why did I put my trust into ***** hands.*
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 8:31 PM UTC
*Before you know it,
or perhaps after you know it, but too soon,
too soon all the same--
growing old--
the men are scarce.*
He took my hand in his,
his hand in mine we walked beside the water--
the moon reflects in the choppy waves
but light pollution dims the stars
and fogs his eyes.
*Sometimes you still get it from a bullet
imagining fishnets around your
ankles and your dress
on
the floor--*
He sings and
it is a beautiful thing when I think about
the past--
everything has led up to this
but this will soon be over, and over again--
*--pick up the pieces--
the lamp lies on the floor
and shards, the remains of an ******
still lingers in your pupils
but **** you never liked it that way, anyway.*
He tells me I'm scatterbrained.
I tell him I'm planning
*Why are you bleeding why are you bleeding why
are you
bleeding?*
something to write but there's no
It's over, it's over, and over again.
tension.
Sep 22, 2012
Sep 22, 2012 at 11:47 PM UTC
Violent pangs
Reflective of the depth
And meaning of this living
It's not that I can control
It's that I can't
And here, I won't ever
It's a place where anything goes
But anything is judged before it goes
And then it never goes
Just rests in a grave with the rest of anything
A place where high spirits lay sordid
And broken
Pieces
Scattered
Amongst
Other
Brok-
En
Souls
I never was meant for this life
This obedience to the physical
Faith and captivity
Love and let go
You don't know me
The stories I've told
The stories I've been in
Look through these wide eyes
Break
The
Mold
And wonder
And wonder
And become
Anew
Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 1:29 AM UTC
Morphing Memory
I sit, and watch, and wait
For the time, the place, the date
In a tree by the whitewashed gate
The moment more than a minute late
Stuck in a horrific scatterbrained state
As if insisting an ingress interest rate
Risking return to a tabula rasa slate
No longer the proprietress of prized real estate
Solely searching for the squandered second to relocate
Eternal anticipation for a sudden soothing spate
Fluctuating failure that hopefully time can eliminate
Desire to keep things straight and communicate, lifting this worn weight
May 2, 2011
May 2, 2011 at 4:55 AM UTC
Full-time job
As a part-time lover
A fool fueled
By the feuds
That burns like the passion
Of a manic mad man
That manages to unmask
Conspiracies
Of secrecy
All the while
Spiraling
In delusion
Self-persecution
Trading sanity
For a truth
With no proof
Spewing his views
Over youtube
While you tune in
To a frequency
That frequently
Misses the point
The bigger picture
Is hard to see
When nit-pickers
Like I
Scrutinize the details
Then tell whats missing
With the audacity
Of a man with the capacity
To think critically
I mimic cynic critics
Then complain
When my views
Are challenged
Im challenged
Mentally
My retardation
Will eventually
Get the best of me
Hopefully
Before the worst of me
Becomes
The norm
This poem
Seems scatterbrained
Because my metaphors
Rarely connect
In the way
The reader
Is supposed to incept
I'd accept my defeat
In my attempt
TO prove my point
Except
I hate showing
What you'd expect
So as our dwindles
To the sound
Of my favorite instrumental
As I write about
Myself
Hopefully
You'll see the bigger picture
Unlike me
... I just realized
I forgot to put love
Before the word dwindle
In the last stanza
And ****** up this constantly
Rhyming poem
To point out
The small details
And as a final
Desperate attempt
To redeem myself
I'll selfishly
Forget you again
And end
On a note
As a notice
That reconnects my first thought
Of how
Unbalanced my time is devoted
Mar 2, 2011
Mar 2, 2011 at 3:40 AM UTC
He wrote in the most perfect handwriting
Compared to my scatterbrained black scribbling
His name sounded like
the gold-tipped wings
of angels.
While mine sat on the
brown earth,
dreaming to the skies.
There was always something idiotic
the way his teeth stuck out like a bunny's
He reminded me of Ishaan from Taare Zameen Par
A dyslexic student, great artist, had a smile so sunny.
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 12:22 AM UTC
So many stars tonight,
No moon though.
What profound silence fills the December air.
I love it out here.
Just me and my thoughts.
With only the wind bearing judgment on my scatterbrained ideas.
Here I can run until my chest heaves with agony,
Here I can scream to the heavens with joy,
Here I can sing at the top of my lungs and wildly off tune,
Here I can cry on an old oak tree and ask God why.
This place is my everything.
My childhood, my memories, my comfort, my whole life.
This is the ground I run on barefoot all year,
The frozen rivers I learned to swim in,
The berries I pick every season,
The stars that made me wonder who I am.
Stars that will take me on adventures far from home,
Yet lead me back to those whom I love and to the place I call home,
The Adirondacks.
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
The stingy smell of milk filled the bedroom's air.
T-shirts, ***** clothes flooded the floor.
The bed was messy, the books scattered all around the bed,
the emotions drained out in every inch of the room.
There was something familiar,
something hadn't changed for years. It was the girl's swollen eyes.
Bleary eyed,
shivers run down the spine,
scatterbrained,
isolated in the corner of the room,
the constant silence shattered the noisy sound came from the nearest fireworks,
the last letter wrote, sealed with a final kiss and the world now has come to an end.
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 1:02 AM UTC
i did a funny thing today:
i went right up to my shower
head, you know, one of those
reflective kinds where you can
see your face warping into the
funniest shapes (i didn't laugh),
i went right up to it and watched
as my mouth filled up with warm
water over and over again; and
spilled out over and over again too,
like pools and waterfalls or blood
and drowning (morbidity isn't
really my style, but i went with it),
for an hour, at least.
afterwards, i brushed my teeth
and noticed the hoodlum shadows
underneath my bright blues that
used to be so beloved by my
scatterbrained spanish teacher
and the sweet lady who helped
to surgically extract four pieces
of usurping bone from the corners
of my mouth.
i think one existential crisis is quite
enough for one day, thank you.
********* i forgot to shave.
Jan 15, 2013
Jan 15, 2013 at 10:10 PM UTC
he leans in towards you
you wonder
is the chair creaking
or is he?
he peers into your mind
you wonder
is he looking for his
or has he forgotten to?
“Ah. She got to you, too.”
he leans back
something creaks.
you
pausing
let him explain
“The woman”
she laid him down
brought a slender brush to his eye
and painted his pupils
blacker than forgetting
“She got me, too.
Look,”
lean
creak
peer
it has been years since he has seen the eye doctor
you thought he was over that story
but you lean into his confusion
again.
you swear
you can see
between the cataracts
through the glaze
the neurons shorting out
one by one
little stars dying
swallowed by the black dots of paint.
a fist rises in your throat
scrabbling to choke the painter
to blot her eyes
black as catharsis
but instead
it chokes you
he nods
affirmed
you sit
stifled
both scatterbrained.
Nov 16, 2012
Nov 16, 2012 at 5:25 AM UTC
i don't understand it, but i get it
maybe its from lack of self respect.
am i another disposable?
you're the most complex, fascinating human
lots of layers, but i've barely seen the surface
i crave to know you past the flesh.
i can settle for company, false intimacy.
i know im boring and anxious always
but you do mean a lot.
we can go somewhere only we know
see new things together
or something.
i dont know.
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 5:56 PM UTC
WANTED:
one poet!
garret trained,
impractical in many ways,
scatterbrained, dark, mysterious.
and lovelorn.
must be at the very least lovesick.
not adverse to occasional starving and bouts of woe.
even able to adapt to living
in a continual cycle of manic depressive flux.
able to overcome writer's block...
and worse!....word drought
able to converse in both, straight and rhymed verse.
desirable; an understanding of
freeflow and rap
must have ability to write,
day as night and night as
day
must work for minimal pay,
read: mostly zero $$.
just occasional compliments.
should be able to empathise.
and in a position to consider (as a carreer pathway)
attempted suicide.
applications by way of
verse
can be sent to the reader
via the internet eather
and will be read of course
but be warned the reader
is fickle and may not deign
to reply...
hallmark cardwriters need not
apply
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 8:58 AM UTC
I stay up late to think
and when I think, I feel sad
so I stay up late to feel sad.
I feel colder than the rain that enters through the holes in my shoes.
Tape won't even hold us.
Nightmares are more vivid the closer I am to leaving.
My dreams are ending
or will they begin again.
It's too late to be indecisive
and I am more scatterbrained than ever.
These are not real problems
and I'm sorry for complaining.
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 10:05 PM UTC
Heretofore I hadn't dared cross paths
With the snare of a trap near my core.
There was no wrath for the mistake I made
And the lore I gave for the way the floor gave
Beneath me entangled itself with guilt and behold: rage.
At this stage in the story I hadn't been held accountable or said I'm sorry,
And the secrets remain engraved in the stone
Hidden away in the closet with the rest of the skeletons I made.
Bone chilling truth makes its way to the surface and
I’m struggling, it’s hurts.
And I can't find the words to
Explain how the urge to implode keeps knocking on the window,
I can see the silhouette beyond the curtains.
Where do I start? Oh, the circus.
Scatterbrained, thoughts falling like ***** from the juggling act.
In fact all I need is the makeup for my clown mask,
But I can't hide it any longer,
Like a meteor falling,
The agonizing force of guilt has made its impact,
And my world is shaken with its calling.
Headlights appeared just behind the truck,
The voices calling,
I'm alright I know but what about this truck,
What have I done? I'm stalling.
Cops arrive, paramedics, they're checking my vitals,
But they're not gonna see the words of truth
Unless I recite em.
Son, I can tell you're sober what happened?
Are you shaken? I don't doubt it.
I don't know officer it was too quick to be exact about it.
But if you go look in the woods you'll see where I threw the answer
So I wouldn't have it around me when you asked about it.
Hope you don't plan on walking any further than we're standing.
I can't afford for you to exploit me,
You got a phone that you could hand me?
I need to stall you like the truck, but without the bad luck, hope it works,
Just get in your car and let the paramedics do their work.
It's been 4 years now and I'm feeling like a **** more and more.
Everyday I'm growing towards going berserk.
Cause I'm a ****** coward,
I can't even write this down properly,
Still leaving truths vague or not even addressing them entirely.
If you see this you know who you are,
I lied to you, cried to you, man I'm a ****** coward.
Don't look down on me when you see the truth,
I'll tell you face to face one day, just hope it ain't too late to do it.
Please don't hate me dude,
It was a mistake, I didn't mean to do it.
If I could take it all back,
Then right now I wouldn't need to do it.
Mar 31, 2019
Mar 31, 2019 at 3:53 PM UTC
The shackles of your evil never let me breathe
And so I drowned, I didn't fight the fire, because that very same pain was my pleasure
It was you
Nothing seemed more comforting than the horror you brought me and nothing could bring me back from the fire that burned inside me but your drunk arms
And those very same arms that held me, hurt me
And those very same lips that caressed me, spoke to me in different tongues
And we were in ruins and disastrous, ***** and tainted by the lies our bodies whispered
And there was something you did to me, and now I'm looking for the pieces you ruined to fit again
Because the worst thing I ever did was let you come in and sloppily hide in my heart
And there's times like these I think of you, and of the girl I was then and it amazes me that I once thought the devil was an angel
I once thought you were my savior when all you did was condemn me to this small hell
And even with you completely banned from my soul
You still linger
You still punish my heart from being pure
And know that I will never forget what you did
But the worst part of it all
Is now my future won't either
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 2:57 PM UTC
I stood slumped into the corner
of two converging granite counter tops,
struggling to focus on what
he's remembering next—some bland anecdote
or an irrelevant detail: *Larson,
I think,* he says finally.
Between pauses—with small, contemplating eyes
set deep, split by his dark, Italian nose—
and dragged uhhh's and hmmm's,
a sowed adoration splits and grows,
a seed (a supernova now).
A man—half my connection
to this world, to existence,
to a trickling, patient bloodline.
He, I; a rambling, scatterbrained mess
of neurons and hard-wiring, sparks and electrical fires.
My father: plagued by anger and impatience,
a sitcom of clumsiness and a tied-tongue,
blessed by conviction, faith and reason.
I don't say any of this. He'll die first,
never knowing how easily I'm reminded
of what I am to become, 32 years from now,
unless he finds me drunk, perhaps after reciting vows,
now vulnerable to cheapening emotion into language.
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 1:44 PM UTC
Your lips transcend reality
A levitation of sorts
Our hearts beat faster
My tongue etches promises of forevers into your mouth
Your lungs; collapsed and wounded from empty promise after empty
Promises
Only exist as a crutch to walk the doubts in my mind away from my OCD
Hey, "R.I.P. to da CD can't eben play my hits"
I just remembered your angel-like voice singing that song
I don't keep in touch with my faith as much as I should
Now I'm just rambling
But you know I do this a lot
You know I'm scatterbrained
I'm certain now that you are my soulmate
I pull my lips away from yours
I pulled my lips away from yours
Oct 25, 2017
Oct 25, 2017 at 2:55 AM UTC
Words never set reality in stone.
and sometimes
people
places
and
things
pass and go.
Nothing can be captured
caught and possessed.
All the better
to learn the facts.
But today was a yesterday again.
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
Sep 16, 2012
Sep 16, 2012 at 10:25 PM UTC
You know I’ve been
far too scatterbrained
to write anything
reasonably coherent.
But frankly,
the word “coherence”
has no place
if I were to truthfully describe
anything that’s happened
between you and I.
I could sit here
and type fruitlessly
until I conceived
the perfect
soul-wrenching metaphor
to illustrate every
painful nuance
of our struggle.
But, unfortunately
there is nothing
terribly poetic
about absolute
********
I suppose
I could say that
we were “the dream
that eventually got
its rude awakening” but
that’s stupidly cliché,
and all I want to do
is fall back asleep.
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 3:13 PM UTC
As i'm trying to find the right path, i continue to get side tracked.
By helpful souls, and deceitful eyes.
How am i to tell truth from lies?
Everyone seems to be wearing a disguise.
And in a society so judgemental and two faced,
most of the time i'd rather be dreaming than awake.
But it's hard to dream when your mind is left in the dark.
These god **** demons are getting the best of my thoughts, and my heart.
A once vibrant rhythm is turning into cement.
I constantly find myself feeling malcontent.
Will my mind, heart and soul ever breathe as easily as it once did?
Maybe it's just my lack of innocence.
When did the world become so hateful, lonely and cold?
I find myself embracing more empty eyes for a chance to feel a little less alone.
With society so pre occupied with mindless ways, how are we ever going to make a change?
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 7:06 AM UTC
Excuse me as I stumble
Through my scattered thoughts
I am not very good at expressing love
My brain is cluttered
My sentences never form as I want
Let me show you with my lips instead
All the words on the tip of my tongue
Let me show you with my hands
All the love I have to give
My body can paint the picture for you
That my scattered brain cannot put into words
Feb 23, 2018
Feb 23, 2018 at 7:25 AM UTC