"unrelaxed" poems
1800
Georgie boy
busch
bud
coors
PBR
they slide down the relaxed throat
of an unrelaxed youth
and these red squiggly lines mark my poems
as if to say
hey,
Harry buddy,
you realize that you make no god **** sense,
right?
and who decides what is and what isn't
nonsensical
All I know is that these crazy ******* yankees
are making me lose my grip on the English stiff upper lip reality
My tenth grade history teacher/JV soccer coach
liked to make songs up about me
There's only one Harry Baxter
true.
only not
there are many of us
the good Harry
The bad Harry
Ugly Harry
and swagger Harry
Violent Harry
and introspective Harry
Romantic and evil
caring and selfish
I get drunk to forget everything
life
money
cares
desires
needs
duty
I write about ten ************* poems a day
not because I'm prolific
or inspired
not because I'm deep
or smart
or romantic
I write because it stems the tide of suicidal thoughts
which barrage my inactive mind
like cannon *****
and I've got great ***** of fire
rushing the pace of every word I spit
but I'm afraid of my own genetic cowardice
From grandfather to father to son
it runs through my veins like people and bulls
I'm drunk tonight
I'll be drunk tomorrow
and what the hell do you care?
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 8:16 PM UTC
I can't sleep,
its like the loneliness of the night is my only friend
We stay awake under the covers only to play pretend
I asked my dearest friend, why do we have to play for fake,
I'm up, I'm alive, I'm awake
As any good friend would do, gave me some wise advice,
"Close ya eyes my friend these dreams are your reality you cannot sacrifice"
I cannot wake,
Trapped in a place I can go anywhere in
Anybody I want to be, or know, my once friend, is now my only foe
As he turns towards me, the harsh face of reality stares at me unrelaxed
"Why are you here" he asked, "the fear of this place shall forever hold you back"
I woke up from reality & fell asleep in a dream
A mirror looking back might not always be, not yet, what it seems
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 11:42 PM UTC
The wheels spinning
as the eyes close
as the muscles relax
as the shivers progress
The wheels slow down
as the face sinks
as the warmth covers
as the protection sets
The wheels start again
as the warm gets too hot
as the eyes open
as the protection fades
Nov 28, 2011
Nov 28, 2011 at 8:46 PM UTC
Architect of mine brawn,
Bird to mine songs,
Your weight is heavied and I feel its tax!!!!
Your broken,
Unrelaxed,
As I wish to giveth thou azure!!!
Your posterior is defective,
Your fingers are worn,
Soo many dishes hath thou wiped,
Cleaned,
Gleamed!!!
No excite!!!
Mother,
Thine vitality has given me new meanings,
Your a fowl of the unseaming,
A sire of mine own beautitude!!!
Soo lost to thy worlds hatred,
Soo much love and gratitude!!!
You'd bequeath your animation to me as I you!!!!
Mother,
Homage so true!!!
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 1:08 PM UTC
My scars bring me back
When i see them i become unrelaxed
An uneasy time
So much pain in endured
I dont think ill ever be fully cured
My mind frequently wonders to those times
Im struggling, even still now, no, no im not fine
Sep 13, 2013
Sep 13, 2013 at 12:10 AM UTC