"squeam" poems
Sitting in the waiting room
I see the people kneel.
From their knees they pray
for sins they have concealed.
Their brothers and sisters,
and mothers and fathers,
and daughters and sons,
grandsons and grandaughters,
grandparents too
and they look with their
puppy dog eyes
right at you.
Sitting in the waiting room
I see the people squeam
when bad news bursts from
doctors mouths. “This is only
a dream,” they say,
Vocalizing how their hearts
have burst and will
keep
sinking
and
sinking
and
sinking
until
the
day
they
die.
Sitting in the waiting room
I realize that I do not care.
For the dozens of people
in here, or the patients in there.
For the brothers and sisters,
and mothers and fathers,
and daughters and sons,
grandsons and grandaughters,
grandparents either.
I can’t help but be here,
only for you.
Only
for
you
and
me.
Jun 30, 2011
Jun 30, 2011 at 7:14 PM UTC
In this world you've tried
kept M'onsters you still hide
Memories stuffed in closets tight
out still oozes M'onsters' slime
turning the night to wasted rind
and running circles in looped time
'We're all so very tired', they say
but with lights on they lay
'cuz in the dark is when you memories play
and nightlights 'on't work to keep'em at bay
so with bright lights they lay
hoping your M'onsters stay away
M'onsters 'll stay as long as they choose
but I've got a lock to keep the door closed
a touch in a latch and a demeanor so soothed
that no M'onster can squeam its' way through
So dim the lights and let my shining love prove
and consider those M'onsters properly shoo'ed
Apr 26, 2012
Apr 26, 2012 at 12:18 AM UTC
Here it comes again
--the acid creeping up my throat
Reminding me that the motion I perceive with my eyes
Does not coincide
With the motion of my mind.
The fluid in my ears, I find
Being steered by forces hidden behind
A curtain blinding my sight.
When I was six, the sickness would hit
When I was in the backseat going down winding streets.
The pain, I claimed, came from my jaw
But it wasn’t long until they saw
Splattered across the back bench of the car
--I was motion sick.
As a teen, cleaned from this curse,
Steering the machines that once made me squeam,
I thought I was free.
Until vertigo creeped into my seams.
Clear sight, but a spinning mind!
A crystal displaced in the skull behind my face
Would trace every turn through, as if it was reality who had forgotten to move.
Now nausea creeps in again as my mind perceives a reality that once again, my eyes can’t see.
All of my hopes
and dreams
so real to me…
But when my eyes look out to reality, they are nowhere
to be
seen
And it makes me feel
So
Nauseous
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 12:26 PM UTC
Moments of what to feel
Consume my brain,
Dissipating my pain
Along with the whispers from my heart..
Is this real?
My heart shouts yes
But my mind can be depressed
And it causes me to stress,
Sometimes it won't rest
Sometimes it will push you to the test
Ridiculous it may seem
But people can be so mean.
Yet, your kindness doesn't make me squeam
I believe you
When I am with you, I don't want to scream
My mind is suddenly at peace
For your touch brings me ease
I know your mind wanders
It brings up times of bothers
Your heart is aching for you to listen
Mine is patiently wishing
hoping your anxieties don't overcome your heart
For I see no reason to tear us apart
A connection so magical it makes us scared
Questioning if either of us are prepared.
Hoping we'll always be there
But something in my gut says we'll never tear
Your eyes leave me mesmerized
I could stare at you for hours
Without any urge to cower
Your arms keep me safe
You fill me with confidence
And not rage
Jan 13, 2017
Jan 13, 2017 at 5:05 PM UTC