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John Byrd Oct 2015
Please reconnect your controller.
Give your attention back to me.
Reconnect your electrical current to my system.
Do not let these control systems capture you.
Your mind is decaying one half life at a time.
Half of your life can’t be mine.
Either I’m your electrical generator
Or you find your power elsewhere in the world.
You have to be fully charged for me,
To truly be connected to me and my word.
Can you half love?
Can you half trust?
Can you be half alive?
Dead to your flesh but alive in my spirit,
But through my spirit you are made whole.
Do you want temporary relievers or eternal forgiveness?
Let me tell you aleve will still leave you feeling the same hours later.
Believe and it shall come to pass
That the aftermath of your life was already determined in the past.
So weep not my children
For this present life is nothing compared to the future glory.
tonight we gather
to mark a
commencement day

four decades on
from a late June
afternoon

exchanging
embraces and
bon voyage wishes

departing a grand
chandeliered Rivoli
embarcadero

bound
to glorious
destinations

our bold sails
welling with
youthful
exuberance
in pursuit of
dreams
and intrepid
endeavors

our life
journeys
are blessed
with rich
abundance,
the grace of
challenge and
the gift of days

this evening
as we reconnect
to share the joys
and wisdom gleaned
from well lived lives
we will also celebrate
in multicolored splendor
the lives of classmates
who have commenced
journeys to other
destinations

though their
earthly sojourn
is complete
passed friends
remain alive
in our memory

surely the spirits
of the beloved
will walk this
room tonight

forever young
their quiet presence
will gently touch
tender hearts

they’ll appear
as they once looked
on their finest day

and as we relive
the bits of our lives
we shared with
one another

we may feel
the grasp of a
warm hand
as we once did
during that
snowy evening
west end walk

we’ll dance with them again
around Tamblyn Field bonfires
gyrating in a shared
ecstatic ebullience

we’ll applaud most likely
to succeed lives
most beautiful smiles
and crack up
to the hilarity of
class clown jokes

we’ll taste the kiss
of an after dark
Lincoln Park
rendezvous

groove to the
rock steady
beat of a
bad company tune  

we’ll submerge again
in a Yellow Submarine
to embark on an epic
Greenwich Village
journey

we’ll roll down
the shore on old
Thunder Road
windows open
hair blowin
radio blastin

we’ll taste the sweet sip
of Cherry Cokes
and Root Beer floats
at Roadrunners

chasing lost love salty tears
spilled over ***** upperclass home boys
and the soft blush sentiment of a
first French kiss

wouldn't it be nice
to swoon to the
fantasy and
winsome yearnings
of favorite
summer songs

filling our head’s
with mind
blowing collages
starring
team mates
drama club
second takes
heady chess club
checkmates

we’ll marvel at the disruption of
premillennial breakthrough science projects
created by pocket protected slide ruling
entrepreneurial math wizards

we'll recall droll gossip
by drab hall lockers
dim gym showers
awkward dances
Yippie people power

patriotic assemblies
cool sharp dressers
right on brother
Que Pasa lil sista

rock and roll album covers
Simon and Garfunkel poetics
Go Go Boots kickin
FM radio psychedelics

Midnight Confessions
emphatically blared
from the cafeteria jukebox
Civil Rights, Earth Day
and righteous
anti war activism

tribes of hoods, Ra’s,
jocks, artistes and tie dye hippies
everything is groovy
lets get a sandwich at Ernie’s

first carnal explorations
Moody Blue Tuesday trysts
man could she speak German
boy do I dig her dress

we did hard time together
at split session detention centers
ate chocolate chip cookies
cracked up to Mr. Thomas’s
Ides of March tragedy

took first tokes and
sips of Boones Farm
we partied hard
and did no harm

admired academic brainiacs
and the civic commitment
of student govie reps
shut down the gubmint
was never a threat 

basketball rumbles
Bulldog football
**** Ludwig soccer teams
nimble cheerleaders

leggy majorettes
kick *** marching band fanfares
compelling masquer presentments
Park Avenue wayfarers

they were
crew mates
on The Soul Boat
rode shotgun
to Midnight Rambler
Doobie Concerts

cruised hard in
the Root Hog
Rat Raced Louie
in tiny white Pintos

we booked
many a mile
with our lost
friends

on the road to
this evening

authoring
volumes of
fabled odysseys
and fantastic
recollections

their stories
are our stories
telling our stories
keeps them alive

some may say
gone too soon
but the measure of
a well lived life
is not counted
in days, nor
accomplishments

but how one has loved
and how much one was loved

quietly there
always with us
forever to be
a wholesome
part of us

as the brothers
from Cooley High
would say

lets tip a sip
for the brothers
and sisters who
ain’t here….

God bless
Godspeed
enjoy the evening
vaya con dios mis amigos

Music Selection:
Pat Metheny
Mas Alla


RHS 74
Class Reunion
Elks Club
Rutherford
11/29/14
I'm emotionally detached,
in twenty nine days ninety panic attacks,
I see through your eyes,
straight to your past,
the times that you meant it when you really laughed.
Your crescents hate light,
and descend through the day,
I'm deciding my mind between painful and sane,
dividing a line between not okay and opaque.
I know my life's doubtful,
more mournful than most.
Lost in translation as feeling the least,
a leash on my brain and one sense of release.
I wanna meet sharpness to puncture my breath,
rather than losses I can't reconnect-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated

This poem is about how unattached I am from myself. I hope it makes sense
ShFR May 2014
You like to say love disappeared.
And I swear it never left, but she talk like Kanye "Ima let you finish"
shrug her shoulders; cut me off, Swift.
    Drinks on the table it was no one else's business, Henny in my system there was no one else who witnessed how she never took a breath like a run on sentence so I'm in the club flexing working on my fitness; arms out stretched on my chest crucifixion.
    I'm forgiven but could never get a word in not even one syllable I'm talking in synonyms I,
never
ever
nevermore, words with friends.  Triple word how absurd you be trippin ****, on my Instagram insecurity I'm tired of it I'm with my Boys chillin rarely smoked but might burn a spliff; ease the pain so insane major Payne fatigue is in.  
    I got a glimpse of future, I use to, try to hit you up reconnect, bluetooth, I'm in her ear lying for the ***, I miss you, she on top giving me the truth: this all you.  But **** it though I'm not trynna be your man, but when she leaving out for work I be sleepin in
and when she home I tax that *** like I'm Uncle Sam nothing ever change so after head she be at my neck
next
    Flashback to the present
--and--
she still telling me how I don't get it
stressed
unproductive in her presence, you not even in front of me I'm still tasting lemons; Yo, my star player wants a trade should I let her go? cut too deep for bandaids should I let it flow.  
    Throwback to the past vampire clothes but the blood different I'm a sucker for that red though: she was floating 6 inches from the earth floor, you's a victim baby true blood, spoil us!  Show Me What You Got lil mama let your "Kingdom Come" dressed in all black spending money black republican?  Awesome and some; I was sliding home she was catching, clamping; say I turn her on like a touch screen, Samsung; with a touch of color you would disobey your mother as I slid under your covers
mid-day massages
"Midnight Maunders"
at least that's how it use to be, now Award Tour got her trippin almost frequently
we use to fight for love she said now she a causality!
        "and how you gonna make this bout you it's about me, phone ringing since 1am it's about 3
  thought you was slick huh,
thought I was sleep, you **** right love disappeared"
but she never leaves.
She's still waiting to exhale, but she never breaths.
© 2014 by S Fraz All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of S Fraz
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Patricia Tsouros Mar 2013
I couldn’t be around you without feeling
as if my world was crashing down.
Twice I walked away but you kept
holding onto me.
Your love dominating,
controlling, and reckless.

For us both ‘WE’ became an addiction.  
Our physical connection creating a real
emotional entanglement.  
The intimacy escalated not with your love
and respect rather with your insatiable ******
desires and deceit.
You came closer to me than anyone ever had.
To say that we were totally engaged,
consumed with each other would gravely understate
what you did not only to my body, but also to my soul.
It was a crazy love.

When your presence met mine.
I’d forgotten the meaning of peace of mind.
Self-respect had flown away,
integrity fallen by the wayside.
I didn’t know who I was with you.
I didn’t know who I was without you.
Yet, I couldn’t leave…
Even though deep in my unconscious
I knew 'WE' were wrong.
My addiction wouldn’t let me go,
your addiction wouldn't let me go.
And I stayed…
Your behavior came so close to crushing my spirit,
my will to live.
In your compulsion to protect your deception
you abandoned me,
my life hanging on by a thread, I could not sleep or eat,
I could not breathe.
It was like being in a coma that I was fighting to survive.
With intensive professional help
I was forced out of the coma.
I survived.

Now I see
I stayed, not because I loved you
I stayed because I didn’t love me.
Passion kept me bound.
Truth be told, to be totally honest
I stayed out of fear, fear of missing the passion.
But now I know I’d rather be alone… than
shackled by the anguish and drama you swore was love.
As the synapses of my brain reconnect,
the evidence of controlling emotional abuse,
of possessive manipulation, overwhelms my mind and body.
I see now I wasn’t built, wasn’t ready to understand
your type of love.
I can’t deal, can’t bear, don’t deserve,
your emotional betrayal and abuse.
I have kept your secret for you to tell.
A secret I will never betray.
Now no longer together
locked in by your silence,
perpetuating the manipulation,
forever destined in your secret,
your abuse continues.
A bicycle is the most efficient transportation machine.  A little input and I’m gliding, moving a useful measurable distance but more than that. I like going fast enough so the wind in my ears is louder than my thoughts.  On a tough day I like riding until I can be grateful again; sometimes that takes a couple hours but every ride is a good ride.

My youth’s independence was a banana seat Huffy pulled from an under-appreciated pile of rust in the back of St. Vincent’s Thrift Shop.  No school bus meant riding to school, the first 45 minutes of every day in all weather. Afternoons were exploring detours; summers were expeditions to the city limits, sometimes beyond.  I needed an upgrade for high school; I found a spotless antique 3 speed Raleigh, the cultural English workhorse collecting dust in an unlikely garage for $50.

I kept it through two foster homes. The first one kept me busy with farm chores, but the second was back in town. There, I had the bike back, and as an aside, they had a phenomenally sophisticated wall sized sound system: reel-to-reel and amazing headphones. I would forget myself in records: Sgt. Peppers, Genesis, Yes, etc, and another favorite. Just a guitar and piano instrumental album with a simple melody called Bricklayer’s Beautiful Daughter. Something about that one song in particular I heard faint glimmerings of contentment that was denied to me.  I would replay it to cling to this hint of a simple happiness I didn’t understand; that if it was in the song, it was somewhere deep in me.
Without a car for 10 years, one used 10-speed or another got me to various eccentric jobs.  

Fast forward to the life-changer, after a divorce. Needing to reconnect with myself, I searched for a decent bike. I found it hanging dusty in the back of a cluttered boutique shop smelling of tire rubber, quiet with racers’ confidence. They had a Lemond thoroughbred on consignment, assembled custom 5 years earlier to race. It was slightly outdated, but a dent on the top tube put it out to pasture. It was steel though, so rideable enough for me.  My entire $300 savings and it was mine. Then I discovered the special pedals needed special shoes, so another month saving for those.  I wasn’t going to wear those silly spiderman outfits, until I started to ride more than 10 miles and my **** demanded it.  And those pockets in the back of the shirt were handy.  I met a friend who taught me how to draft: my skinny wheel a few inches behind the bike in front at 20 mph, to save precious energy in the slipstream. Truly dangerous, vulnerable, and effectively blinded; but he pointed at the ground with various hand signals to warn of upcoming road hazards. I was touched by this wordless language of trust and camaraderie. This innate concern is essential to the sport, even among competitors, so it seems to attract quality people I liked.  My new life expanded with friends.

I discovered biking exercise could stabilize the life-long effects of brain injury, lost some weight, grew stronger, and started setting goals.  First longer group rides, then a century (100 miles in one ride), then mountain biking: epic fun in nature, unadulterated happiness.  Then novice racing, then the next category up with a team, then a triathlon.  It became an admitted obsession but I won a pair of socks or bike parts every now and then.  Eventually tattooed two bike chains around my ankle, one twisted and the other broken.  I loved the lifestyle, and had truly reinvented and rediscovered myself.

A 500 mile ride from San Francisco to Los Angeles with fellow wounded veterans helped dissipate the old shame from the military.  I had joined the ride to raise money for a good cause.  I respected the program and knew personally that cycling had changed my life.  They turned out to be inspiring, helping me more than I could have helped them.  Some had only just started riding a bike for only a few weeks, some were amputees fit with special-made adapters on regular bikes, some had no legs using hand cycles.  They all joined on to the task of riding 500 miles. No one whined, and helping each other finish the day was the only goal.  While riding with them, I began to open up about my experience.  I found a few others who also had TBI, and we could laugh about similar mishaps.  The other veterans didn’t judge me about anything, like when I was injured, the nature of my disability, how much I did or didn’t accomplish. I had signed up just like them, had to recover back to a functioning life just like them.  It was the first time in my life that whole chapter in my life was accepted; I wasn't odd, and they helped close the shame on that old chapter.  (Thank you, R2R.)  The next year I took a 1500 mile self-supported bike trip through western mountain ranges with my husband and soulmate, whom I had met mt. biking.

There was one late Spring day, finally warm after a long winter, when I just wanted to ride for a few hours by myself.  No speedometer or training intervals, just enjoy the park road winding under the trees. I had downloaded some new music on the IPod, a sampler from the library.  I felt happy.  Life is Good.  Rounding a bend by the river, coasting through sunbeams sparkling the park’s peaceful road, my earphones unexpectedly played Bricklayer’s Beautiful Daughter.  I hadn’t heard that simple guitar tune in three decades.  My God, time suddenly disappeared.  I was right back in the forgotten foster home, listening for the faint silver threads of the contentment I was feeling at this very moment on the bike.  The full force of this sudden connection, the wholeness of the life and unity of myself in one epiphany, brought me to tears. I found myself pouring my heart into praying hang in there, girl, hang in there, you’ll find it and I felt my younger self hearing echoes of birds singing in new green leaves.
Grey Feb 2016
We link our minds
you are our mother
Direct us to the sun
Art, Love, Music, Rebel
a Warrior, eyes open
Wide mouth muse, give us our religion
Moon salutation, give us new praise
Reconnect, Brothers
Sisters, Reconnect
All the people of the earth
come greet your creator
The sun made stars on her cheeks
and eyes as dark as her skin
Sweet fire of the spirit
you give us rebirth
you give us ***** baptism
Shake free your slave name
follow the beat of the drum
the universal rhythm
She screams and blood runs hot
She lowers herself to the ground
She stand high with the masses
A teacher of humanity
of jazz and blues
hip hop rimshot soul
Culture that may not be ours
Still welcomes you
if you learn to feel
please listen to Erykah Badu sing The Healer live in Jakarta. It's life changing.
Madeline Jun 2013
as a disclaimer -
to you,
to everybody -
my poems capture, in a permanent way,
my temporary feelings.
as a disclaimer,
i am bombastic and aggressive
and prone to melodrama,
and honestly,
we're actually fine,
and we actually get along really well,
and i'm actually not as tortured and pained as i sound.
in fact
i really only feel the way i feel in my poems
like,
0.2 percent of the time.
i'm actually very happy.
and not angry.
and,
well.
just for the record.
just so everyone knows
and no one has me institutionalized.
i'm great.
he's great.
this poem is a ******* but
i had to say
something.
ignore me.
Mark Nov 2020
Baby, I’ve lost that happy feeling
I've lost my way since the day we broke up
Could you show me the path back, baby
I'm not coping that well, nup
You know me more than I’ll ever know
You could help me better myself, for both of us, maybe

I lay awake at night whilst
Whiskey bottles empty and drunk (Baby)
Staring into darkness until the sun shines through (Baby)
Can't wait for the next round of drinks

I cry baby, I just lay awake drunk at night
‘Cause I can't stand the thought of no you, no more
I cry baby, I'm dying of the thought, alright
So, when I imagine this, it’s you who I need, yo
Baby, baby, baby

I'm screaming out in pain
'Cause I can feel my days fading real fast
I need your help, now more than ever, yo

The bottles empty and drunk (Baby)
Staring into darkness until the sun shines through (Baby)
Can't wait for the next round of drinks

I cry baby, I just lay awake drunk at night
‘Cause I can't stand the thought of no you, no more
I cry baby, I'm dying of the thought, alright
So, when I imagine this, it’s you who I need, yo

I'm just reaching out baby, I’m trying to reconnect (I’m trying to reconnect)
I’ll always love you until the day I die (Until the day I die)
You don’t know how much it would mean (Baby)

I'm screaming out in pain
'Cause I can feel my days fading real fast
Baby, baby, baby
Baby, baby, baby

I'm screaming out in pain
'Cause I can feel my days fading real fast
Hal Loyd Denton Jul 2013
Dedicated in part to Iva and Terry and their ever lasting love

First to describe what it is made from and then what it ultimately is and what it means
I will just be able to give description in part it is too great for any one person to do justice to it I choose
To use what some may call and object used in ceremony by unlearned superstitious people but you will
See this has none of that going on but I ‘am hunting big game in that regard maybe you are setting in a
Chair in your house apartment yes but also you are on a planet suspended in space a space that an
un manned space ship Voyager is on a trip of exploration one day it will pass from our galaxy the Milky
Way and go into many galaxies but it will never come to an end because its journey is carrying it into
Infinity one of the stars is a hundred times bigger than earth they are more numerous than the sand on
The sea shore but it is said that God knows them each and every one by name David said we are
Fearfully and wonderfully made my point is we are spirit and flesh the flesh perishes daily but the spirit
Is Renewed daily this all goes into the qualities and perfected ingredients that make up the amulet I’ am
Writing about here is a couple of human examples this is what can happen when you see the real truth
About the body and spirit Dr Albert Schweitzer was from High German society his credentials include
Theologian, Musician, Philosopher, Physician, and medical missionary and his home was in a safari tent
In the African jungle one of his many visitors was the actor Hugh O’Brian after this meeting Hugh went
Back home and sold his big pretentious car bought a used one and modeled his life after Schweitzer this
Great man came to realize what he really was not the outer that passes away but he was immortal and
Understood solidly what that meant our trouble with the Arabs is their identity problem they fret at
Deadly levels about the glories of the past and what as a nation they contributed in mathematics
Language now they reproach themselves and then the disgraceful aspect they are ruled by the west
Again they should take pride in their heritage and within the frame work of the given reality they could
Be great benefactors through the oil riches that were put in their hands and by changing their moral
Compass to the spirit they could amaze the modern world and the other human content in this amulet it
Can’t be discussed without bringing Lincoln into it from the humblest beginnings he became a towering
Giant his words blaze with grandeur significance and other worldly wisdom when it happened I don’t
Know while swinging an axe or while reading by candle light he fused his small life into the great current
That is flowing eternal his accomplishments superceded that of his backwoodsman’s life by eons I finish
With that part of the amulets fascinating qualities now if I follow what I discussed with my wife which
Was so painful several times I was interrupted by tears and was not able to be audible one of the things
Was widowhood I speak in particular about Iva recently certain influences have passed into my life it
Plays out here dreams joys love is unquestionably the most powerful force we can ever know I
Tried to lay the ground work that the flesh is limited but by the spirit we can now and in the future will
Override the sad state of affairs of living in this body that imprisons us restricts us because
We are now in this physical life there was a great quotation of course out of date now because of
Refrigeration but it said God gave us memories so we could have roses in December this I do know that
Spiritual connection does exist between us and our lost loved ones but that the flesh is so dense
And insensitive the connection is poorly or nonexistent my words speak of the beauty of the spirit
Nothing is impossible to it so we have to reconnect the broken by imagination my unaltered thought it
Will always be this truth what was will always be its Ida birthday this week the room only glows slightly
The music is soft and from eternal shadows Terry steps forth this magical moment is provided by purist
Love they join in tender embrace the flood of years together and apart breaks over them it’s like he only
Left moments ago Terry has lost little things that use to bug her but now there are new ones look at
Him not one thing has changed except all that is better but he got that way by divine aid on the other
Hand she has grown into this beautiful woman of grace and softness that glows with character it’s his
Time to be envious but she knows she got that way by doing it one day at a time love tumbles down a
Richer measure than the music can ever do new promise is born deep within each heart that was
Beating Stronger the longing ever so briefly was short circuited in powerful arms he seemed to carry her
On air as they swayed to other worldly rhythms there isn’t a clock where love is concerned because love
Is timeless it is placed on a steadfast but oh so flimsy when it comes to physical endurance if we were
Only able to see love as God sees it is it not the shimmering living picture that is from the bottom of the
Floor to the ceiling within is the telling vibrancy a currency more valuable than all others nothing else
Can take two very different lives and create one that streams bliss and longing a selflessness that stirs
And moves hearts to heights of appreciation a otherwise place of only rumor and place of tall tales but
Here between two people cherished thoughts are visible touching and powerful built by stones hewn
From quarries that reach back before time and have a future that is without end building materials of
Feeling emotion faith and honor all else would only be fables nothing could be that sure and have
Such endurance pillars of fire that burns and its end is in purification the arching unfamiliar to one
Looking from the outside but for the two in the center when the countenance of another can melt you
With a look and when eyes are locked together has the power to make the whole world fall away
Nothing else exists or should exist love has a bridge unseen the other side holds spectacle splendor
Fulfillment laughter romance announced in royal castles on the highest hills not even the richest can
Purchase what Terry and Iva have it is secure guarded and promised by He who is all love widowhood is
A robber but his plunder is of truth but the riches outweigh this temporal division and though
Sorrow as keen as it is makes loss into wellsprings where denial exists then courses unknown open and
You love the departed even more than before ever greater waves reach that other shore you have
Heaven then you feel this rapturous deep wave’s made noble by the caldron that has tears that over
Time Become far more valuable than diamonds and swells of emotional dreaming of a future day all that
We long for in life are constant gift to the departed these truths are mighty in force between Terry and
Iva for her birthday visit and the sweetness of parting with the statement see you ihasta manana in
English it means see tomorrow the tomorrow that now are seen through tears but then joy and rapture
Hugs will be without this divide the surging racing of the most clear and beautiful river will be surging in
Our hearts your hardship is harder than mine because I dwell in pure love and you must contend with
Human l life that isn’t clear and free thoughts are muted where here they burst and grow as you are
Taking in a great harvest where on earth you must be content with a small garden here your forehead is
Always shining for two reasons such wondrous thoughts occur continuously and His glory shines from
The throne brighter than the noon day sun when you walk in the sunshine and it touches you know that
Part of it is me touching you it can’t be as powerful as when its starts because earth regrettably has
A diffuse system so see it as when I use to kiss you tenderly if I didn’t say it I was saying thank you
For being mine and that you will be mine forever now that is half true be well my beloved my eyes are
Ever on you as the French say not goodbye but Au revoir it means till we see each other again and I do
Know all the languages and French is the language of love in my mind you appear in all the loveliest
Places in Arabian nights on the shore of the St. Guadalupe River that has the most shinning waters like
Your smile that is like day light dawning or in the lovely foots hills of the Sierra Nevada the Brazos River
Country because with you in them they are the picture of my beloved rest with the peaceful knowledge
It won’t be long now I have it on good account now the streets of gold then the gold in the streets will
Blend with our golden hearts which we refined in life and death by the High blaze we truly gave up all
That tarnished the gold now only the purist golden love is all that remained I love you

I had to stop writing last night around two I got to sleepy I had to delete a half a page it was just like
Writing a report it was lifeless when I came back to write I prayed that Christ would cleanse me with his
Blood so what I write would be truly pure it worked because I was broken by tears hard to see the keys
That way but I wouldn’t write any other way now the amulet grows dark because it is a living reality stop
Here if you are easily wounded I wrote already about my home Fremont California in night thoughts I
Described the shooting death of a teenager on a bike in broad day light a distance up the street we lived
On just because he was Mexican and just a week later a Mexican mother missed her ride at midnight to
Go an work at a nursing home her teenage daughter went worth her because she was afraid I know the
Place this happened very dark a man I say a man he had human features let say he got out of his car
Picked up a fallen tree limb and beat them both to death as they screamed into the cell phone to their
Helpless relatives yes the amulet shows a dark ominous Black like an ink well was knocked over and the
Ink rushed over the face your reaction is disbelief stunned a disconnection occurs that same thing
Happened before but on a grander scale in the garden when our first parents fell the same thing
Happened a darkness covered the globe leaving natural light unaffected but men and women’s minds
Were darkened they could do everything as before but they could only practice unrighteous acts as seen
When Cain slew righteous Abel there was a way to connect and do right but like to day most just strayed
farther and farther from true right living only the coming of the pure one that would be slain and by this
Sacrifice only could you have your mind freed and you by the spirit can walk free and please the most
Holy one He was beaten to the point you could only tell He was human because He stood upright and
Had limbs it was brutal but that was the cost to purge the vile disease we all suffer from that bleeding
Broken lamb was taken from that cross and His resurrection cast a new light over the whole earth the
Amulet glowed take cotton white clouds white snow and your getting how white and pure the amulet
Became this is in the heart of every soul that is redeemed it is the Holy Spirit it is shining and will shine
Into that perfect day don’t continue without it you rob your own soul of everything that is clean and
Decent and it will fill that ache in the heart that desires something all those that chase the next drug
High or the next conquest of another human how pathetic and it grinds those that practice it into a
Powder of Shame and guilt and a destination that only will end in flames why would anyone be that
Careless with Their own soul when there is a Heavenly Amulet waiting for you
the Sandman May 2016
It is 1:20 am
And I am at 7%
And I have only one bar of signal
And my screen tells me
"Reconnecting..."
                                
                              I'm 93% done with 'us;'
                              You have drained each per cent of my patience.
                              I'm getting mixed signals
                              From the language of your body,
                              And very few at that.
                              But I take a chance on us,
                              Another chance,
                              At this hour of lateness,
                              Maybe we can rebound and re-bond
                              And not just reminisce.
                              I reckon we could
                              Reconnect.
Benji James Jun 2017
Look at this wreckage you left
Yeah I'm still cleaning up
All the shattered pieces of my heart
Yeah gazing at stars
Wondering how you are
Still, can't see why you left me
Drowning emotionally
But it's alright
I'm gonna be okay
Just can't help but contemplate
Why you went and walked away
Without me

Still dumbfounded
That you left me in silence
Still dumbfounded
That you couldn't say one word
And I tried to reconnect
Tried to get your side
Why you didn't want
me in your life

Girl how could you
Gov hurt me like that
Girl how could you
Just turn your back
I was there for you
When you were in need
Girl why couldn't you
Have been there for me
Girl how could you
Go hurt me like that

There's an empty spotlight
That's where you once stood
Had all my attention
Listened to every word you were expressing
And in my eyes
You were all I could see
Maybe that's why I was so blind
Yeah mislead by you this whole time
Ended up stranded in the woods
With no light
But it's alright. It's okay
I can light my own fire anyway

Still dumbfounded
That you left me in silence
Still dumbfounded
That you couldn't say one word
And I tried to reconnect
Tried to get your side
Why you didn't want
Me in your life

Girl how could you
Go hurt me like that
Girl how could you
Just turn your back
I was there for you
When you were in need
Girl why couldn't you
Have been there for me
Girl how could you
Go hurt me like that

Ever been abandoned
When you were in need
Yeah that's the way she left me
Girl I see you like to live dangerously
I'm still looking for something
To fill this hole that you left
Looking for something
that can clean up this mess
Yeah this is what you left
Great legacy in my eyes
Betrayed by all your lies
I know your face
Yeah your eyes
Your lips
They're just images I won't forget
You just might be my greatest regret

Still dumbfounded
That you left me in silence
Still dumbfounded
That you couldn't say one word
And I tried to reconnect
Tried to get your side
Why you didn't want
Me in your life

Girl how could you
Go hurt me like that
Girl how could you
Just turn your back
I was there for you
When you were in need
Girl why couldn't you
Have been there for me
Girl how could you
Go hurt me like that

What's this sinking feeling
Why can't I escape
All these memories on replay
Been thinking about this for days
Hope that doesn't become weeks
Turning into months
Not sure that's something
I want on my mind for that long
Come on pull yourself together
stay strong
Yeah just realise
she was never
gonna be the one

Still dumbfounded
That you left me in silence
Still dumbfounded
That you couldn't say one word
And I tried to reconnect
Tried to get your side
Why you didn't want
Me in your life

Girl how could you
Go hurt me like that
Girl how could you
Just turn your back
I was there for you
When you were in need
Girl why couldn't you
Have been there for me
Girl how could you
Go hurt me like that

©2017 Written By Benji James
brandon nagley Jun 2015
Ní lovers stray i bhfad ar feadh fada, a ndán ag Dia, siad Reconnect i gcónaí !! Is breá ag a fearr !!!
(Old Irish tongue)

English version-

Lovers don't stray far for to long, their destined by God, they always reconnect!! love at its best!!!
taia Jul 2016
there's nothing better
than a warm embrace after
the coldest silence
Aroody Sep 2015
I'm messaging you again,
Though I promised I won't,  

I fought myself not to write to you again ,
But again again I lost,  

I'm writing you again after all this time,
Hoping you answer maybe this time,  

You read all my previous messages,  
Every word, every line,  

For you I have got a lot to say,  
But you got no ears to hear,  

I'm constantly trying to reconnect,  
But you care less  Everyday,  
I wrote to you things that would melt hearts,
If a stone read all that it would melt,  

At least I make a effort to reconnect someday,
Though you give no effort I'm not hopeless ,

How my words did melt a stone ,
But they didn't melt your heart yet ?  

Read them again and again,
Perhaps they melt your heart.

And you answer.....
Not much focus on rhyming rather my story
[ Based on a true story]
AJ Dec 2016
i'm trying my hardest to reconnect with old flames,
but it's nearly impossible when they either only talked to you because they wanted to *******,
or decided that finding another high was more important than holding onto a friendship.
i can't count all the friends i lost on one hand,
the sad reality that people do leave,
no matter how often they tell you they'll stay.
i'm trying my hardest to reconnect with old flames,
but nobody wants anything to do with me anymore.
i let someone in & they broke me. i thought i had a best friend & they chose a **** over me. i lost every guy friend i had once i fell in love. i lost every close friend i had once i decided that i didn't want to do drugs.
i need someone again.
Jeremy Betts Feb 18
Suicide?
Hold on, I'm sorry,
Are you referring to the barbaric act of hands-free ****** by an inhouse intruder implementing a vicious, self-righteous onslaught
No?
Oh...
Cause that's what I got
That's not what you were taught?
You didn't know each and every thought could be on loop and fraught with a dangerous taunt
No one told you you'd also most likely be the only one within earshot?
It's just thought after thought after thought after thought
And it's nonstop like the whistle of an ignored teapot that's gotten too hot
I ask myself, "is there such a thing as an inner dialogue clot?"
Rhetorical of course, knowing full well that there's not
It'd be pretty helpful though would it not?
A majority of this agony doesn't even seem to originate from an internal spot
But it's held against me that they recklessly destroy all I've fought for as well as rewriting the plot
Turning me into my own distraught subplot
Filming redesignated to the back lot of Salem's Lot
Making sure to make it known I'll only have this one shot
I swear y'all think I was told to bring what I'm gonna need and this is what I brought
So I fillet both wrists and expose the rot
Hoping to relay visually what verbally I cannot
Live stream it for a live audience or not
Copious shallow minds will still produce the same shallow thought
"You either want to be here or not"
Not knowing it has so little to do with want
"You ought to change the way you think"
Oh right, you're right, I must have forgot
OOOOOR
or
Is it that I've been convinced I can not?
Yeah...yeah, that's the caveat
I'd give everything to hit the reset like a robot
But the treason contains some carefully wrought deception that's sent in like S.W.A.T.
Keep that standard victim blaming line you walk taut
It's easier to walk that, is it not?
That's what I thought
Everyone knows the Rorschach test is just an inkblot
I watch in disbelief as my well-being resorts back to just another afterthought
The outlier is no one witnesses the slipping of the knot
There'll be no extension of a helping hand intervention to salvage this broken man by trying to help him reconnect a dot
Because I've lost connection with every dot
A reality checked on the spot
They continue debating amongst each other if it'd be easier to boycott
I bought in, hook, line and sinker,
I should have seen the bait and switch comin' do to all the times prior
THIS IS NOT WHAT WAS SOUGHT!
But here I am,
I guess it's my turn to like it or not

©2024
Onoma Oct 2013
Mangled skirmish, of bespeckled olive-green
serpents.
Their sinuous anarchy runs cold upon her
skull.
Caravaggio, you immortalized the *****,
immured her, hermetically sealed her within
that shield.
Her reflection was at once the face she
never saw...******, she...then beheaded.
I notice you've even painted the shield the
color of her serpentine locks.
Serpents registering her ontological shock--
retentive, entwining, dangling in an odd
curl here and there.
Blood spurting from her almost indiscernible
neck, as if to draw a passable neck of blood,
almost like rays of blood, Christ's pierced side.
Her eyes seem so determined to chisel their
way out of stone, reconnect her head to her
body.
Her face is stunning, an excruciating ferocity
bulking stiff, slightly opened mouth about to...
explode out of her eyes.
Eyes hissing downward, sideways--there in the
pitch black glint of them...a primordial drama
to be continued.
Anjana Rao Jan 2016
I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, I should leave, I'm not good, why do you like me, she'd parrot again and again, coming and going and coming and going and I will love this love forever and I don't want to lose you and soul mates and we're going to be okay and we're safe to each other and sorry, sorry, sorry and you should abandon me and coming and going and stop calling yourself honest, and are you sure you have bpd, and coming and going and one day there are no more sorrys and coming and going and I can't take this and coming and eventually

going.

"Here are some snippets and poetry I wrote" my ex says in an email some days after I've drunkenly reinitiated contact with them after a year of nothing and the "snippets" go back and back and back, 2015, 2014, 2013, and we both confess to having read each other's blog and they will end up refollowing me on every blog they have which is all well and good but I am still scared and wondering why I seem to always go where I don't belong, why I am always trying to open some Pandora's box and they have said they never get over anyone, they have called me their muse and I want to tell them that I am not their muse, I am only myself, my best friend tells me to be distant with them after I tell her about the drama with them that I managed to handle and I had started writing a poem to them but now I think I'll just close the unsaved document, I only sent them one poem but I don't want to send any more, it would only encourage them, maybe encourage me and that's all I ever do - encourage people who end up scaring and hurting me, but hey at least I get content from all of it.

"I miss you" ze tells me, ze sends me hearts and initiates contact and likes every stupid thing I ever post on Facebook, and when we're around each other everything is fine, and my best friend tells me ze would date me if I let hir but I can't do it, I can't casually date, not a white person and not now, not after all I've dealt with, I think I just want to be alone forever now, and ze is so nice to me but I just can't reciprocate when we are not in the same room, and I don't believe hir is really autistic or bpd and I never know why, and ze is the best of all of hir anarqueer friends but there is something so off about all of them and they are good entertainment from afar but these are the kinds of people I would have been so jealous of when I was still at smith and always hurting from my perpetual anonymity among the hipsters I realized I would never be a part of, and I have accepted that I will always be invisible among white hipsterqueers but sometimes it still hurts, "community" is ******* and I don't believe it could ever exist for me, but that doesn't mean that I don't sometimes want it desperately.

"Let's go to Tuesgays," my best friend announced last night, and I roused myself up because I knew she wanted to go and wouldn't go without me, she told me as much when we were walking in the dark trying to find the club, and I gathered up all the bits of naivety and hope and the maybe it will be okay amidst all the fear and fatigue and I assembled the bits into a shoddy structure that blew away an hour later and I'm sure I ruined the night but she didn't tell me, and she bought me pizza but the pizza was too much and I don't want to perform at an open mic and I don't want to spend money and I don't want to drink but I do anyway and I don't know why I do all these things I don't like doing, building all these unstable structures that just fall down in the end, and I don't know what's wrong, it's not her fault, I just wish I were dead.

"So fill me in on these last five years. How's life?" I didn't respond to the old high school friend who I wasn't even particularly close with them and once I thought it would be cool to reconnect with friends in high school but every time they ever try to contact me now all I think is "go away, go away, go away," and it's more intense with men, he texts me this morning, days after I delete the text, says, "You were the first person that ever wrote on my wall on facebook, remember? I never forgot that," as if that's supposed to make me feel something, what I want to say is "hi I'm gay and crazy and not the person who wrote on your wall in 2007 and I don't know what the point is in contacting me," but I will hold my tongue because I can't say these things, I will continue to not reply, just like I don't reply to the old men I meet who send me emails or add me on Facebook because maybe I am their only friend and it's not their fault, it's mine for talking, mine for trusting, for giving away my email and poetry so willingly, always forgetting that slightly sick feeling I get afterwords, that's what being uncomfortable is, that feeling that something is wrong, wrong, wrong, and you're stuck and it's too late to go back but something is wrong and you can't put your finger on what is wrong, what is wrong, what is wrong with you, why can't you be nicer to the people around you, why are you writing this at all, stop feeling this anxious, stop feeling bad for no reason, stop feeling

uncomfortable.
Stream of Conscious prose/poetry written around 1/27/15
Korey Miller Oct 2012
i was reborn, like a phoenix
but without all the glory.
i didn't set the hospital on fire; i struggled  
to pull myself from the ashes
of a former prodigy,
one entwined with madness
in all the right ways
laced with misery like a noir heroine,
so sexily depressing-
whereas now i am just empty

i did not emerge unscathed, no,
not like the fledgling, i
am covered in scars and faultlines from where
the sorrow tried rip itself
from my sorry body
and the crimson glue holding me together
replenishes itself more diluted each time

before i died
i swung through technicolor
episodes of scarlet, rose,
ecstatic white, and the
sapphire blue to haunt my dreams
waking and at night
but the color leached away,
the antiseptic began to pervade, refilled my veins
and purged me of everything but grey.

before my death,
i reigned over the darkness, banished it
when it did not suit me,
manipulated reason, lived in a waking dreamland,
in complete control of my life-
but now, when i am fragile as eggshell,
it's the only place i can hide,
a haven where i can act like the lack of light
masks an imagined vivacity and not a skeleton in flat black and white,
disguises and emboldens me,
allows me to be whole again,
to forget the borders, my limitations
indiscernable in dusk

i used to cast my own light-
now i am my own shadow
and in the dark i fumble for
what i used to be,
reconnect myself with the world
throw myself from the cliff
and hope to find my wings again
Hal Loyd Denton Jan 2012
Magnificence blasted

I came to this with a title and then formed an Idea then got out the heavy hitter books all founding fathers thought it would be
A good touch to reconnect with our country and it history at this time of the year well it didn’t proceed that way I did find the very
Word that serves as the title in G. Campbell Morgan’s book an exposition of the Bible don’t get excited I will just use that to set the
tone and it will give you a head start on what I want to deal with the place where life is at odds with our peace and well being He starts
the first chapter of Job now he is one that can at least give us a great example it’s all about winning getting the results we need instead
of the pain of failure (In magnificence of argument and beauty of style this book is one of the grandest in the divine library the story
of Job is presented in dramatic form) I want this to serve two purposes give understanding to the point we all can use these stories
to make us victors and in a very small way have a readable escape from drudgery or outright problems to that end I will start at this
Point I already wrote about the Dutch businessman who got fed up chucked it all started a journey to circle the globe by human
Power alone so to that end he made a boat that by pedaling and that alone would be what would propel him through great waters and
Grand adventures but for this one were going to stay on land I did meet a eastern traveler years ago from New York he was on this side
Of Shelbyville his ultimate goal was the west coast I think he had been at it a little over a month and he was on horseback we talked
but way to briefly to be able to use it here so go to one I know a little more about Jack Kerouac he was in that idea and wrote the
Book on the road first problem the guy had very bad language steeped in the sixties drug culture an iconic figure of the beat
Generation but he was human as we are and when you get down to the soul you catch the part I want to use this is going to play
Like an old family recipe that is hardly readable and the family is the human family but Jack was a writer a full blown saga that had to
Be read had to be listened to a solitary seeker a poor outward drifter who was deeply lonely man a sad melancholy drifter one writer has
Said “and if you read the book closely you see that sense of loss and sorrow swelling on each page” another penned why Kerouac
Matters he matters because he is one of us he ran the course with large gains and ultimately ended with his magnificence blasted.
Taking the cue from Jack I will take you on the road to another life of magnificence Steven Beckerman he was a neurosurgeon I met
And worked for well his wife Sandy she was such a tragic figure she was so fragile high strung would be a good description if you didn’t
Know better you would think she saw the future the first blow to this couple was there pricey home was gutted by fire everything was
Replaceable but the two Doberman guard dogs and another dog that was their family they were childless but before this fire Steven
Was not a snob but he was only a few degrees higher than Sandy on the fragile scale he had these beautiful hands he seemed to
Always be guarding them he would walk in the back of the house down by the fence always faraway I’m sure he was thinking of
The patient and the operation that waited on him at the hospital he had a vulnerability he entered other peoples troubled places and
Gave them back their lives but his own he couldn’t seem to walk divided it was all their concerns and needs.Their dream was to leave
The Bay area where neither was happy and go to the southwest New Mexico where people were laid back the pace was slower
Then the fire happened they weathered that resumed life then Steven was near home a car accident this wonderful gifted surgeon
Was left a paraplegic he went to the bedroom placed the gun between his legs then with those fingers who helped so many others
Pulled the trigger on the shotgun his magnificence was ended he couldn’t overcome the reality and fact of his situation he could have
Became a teacher so many things could have been we need to take from this a lesson of guarding our mind and heart we don’t know
What the future holds if only Steven would have measured his worth kept and made a powerful ally as Job had, his magnificence
Would still be shinning today to finish up the last piece talked about Yvette being shot with Zack in the desert her injuries included
Right side nerve damage a metal plate in her head that prevents her from getting private health care we heard what her dad said about
The Grisly listen to the wise words of her mother her mother said you have to mourn the person you were before up to the time of the
shooting that person is gone you need to turn and start a new life she did that as much as possible started out to do sports casting found
It totally unsatisfactory changed to law and now is a lawyer and victims advocate she said she never tells her story to her clients but
She has a compassion for them she found her way through giving and serving others to keep her magnificence stellar.
Ryan Unger Jun 2015
Put down your **** phone when I’m talking and look me in the eye,
I know you think it’s hard, but you had better try.

All day long you sit with your face buried in that screen,
You do know there’s a whole world around you to be seen?
That world has actual people, and real things happening,
You’re missing out on all the joy that this world can bring.

Your Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, all of it can wait;
Social Media cast you a real long line and you took all their bait.
It’s exactly what they want from you, your complete reliance;
So throw them all a curve ball and show them some defiance!

Without them your life’s amazing! Just take a look around!
You’re on this beautiful planet standing here right on the ground!
There’s mountains, parks, and monuments to see, just look at a map;
And to see these you don’t need to download any app!

Instead of living in a chatroom behind your bedroom door,
Take a walk with a close friend; the satisfaction will be more.
You’ve been inundated with all of this technology for too long,
We’re losing connection with nature and it’s starting to feel wrong.

We should use the world’s beauty to give ourselves a rush,
Not spend 500 hours trying to conquer Candy Crush.
And is it so important to video record everything you see?
Just live in and enjoy the moment and trust me, you’ll feel free.

So look up I say! Look all the way up! And throw away the phone,
Learn to reconnect with humanity and don’t become a drone!
Hannah Mar 2017
I remember the first time
that I was called pretty.
I was eight years old.
I remember feeling
a bubble of insecurity
hover around me,
like an ant
under a microscope.
At eight years old,
I had experienced
my very first wave
of expectations of women
in a male dominated society.
I had no idea
that would be the first
of many by the time
I reached womanhood.
I was just a child.
I loved playing in the dirt,
and capturing bull frogs.
I was a girl
who played like a boy.
I never thought I was pretty,
not because I had
low self esteem,
but because
I was eight years old.
I was to young
to have pretty
wrapped up in my identity.
Fast forward
eight more years.
I am sixteen now.
I am no longer
playing in the dirt,
or capturing bull frogs.
I am painting my nails
bright pink,
and dying my hair
every two weeks.
I am trying to be pretty.
I am no longer
feeling the bubble of insecurity.
I am living in it
twenty four seven.
I am always concerned
with how I look,
how I act,
and what I say.
I am a girl
who is no longer a tomboy.
I am just a girl.
I no longer know
who I am,
because I am
not allowed
to be who I am.
I am expected
to sit quietly
in the corner,
straightening my hair,
perfecting my makeup,
so that a boy
who loves my body
can tell me he loves me,
and make me his wife.
Fast forward
4 more years.
I am twenty now.
I am numb
to the insecurity.
I am now expected
to live in a suburb,
raise three kids,
clean the house,
love my husband,
and my white picket fence.
I am just another girl
who is seen as pretty.
I am living a lifeless life.
I am at a crossroads
to either stay down
under the weight
of societies expectations,
or burn my picket fence
right down to the ground.
I am remembering
that tomboy I was
before I was called pretty.
I can either reconnect
with her fierceness,
or hide beyond a mask
of beige concealer.
I can either be a dove,
or I can be a phoenix.
I think
the choice is obvious.
~ tomboy ~
Heather Oct 2012
Isn’t it funny how as we age, we need less sleep?

Babies’ lives consist of it. Their time is infinite.

Children need many hours to rest growing bodies and minds. They have a different and separate life to live.

Maybe adolescents and adults do it to escape the hassles of daily life. They have lived long enough to expect struggle and uncertainty.

The elderly sleep less than everyone else. The clock ticks away what remains of their lives.

Dreamland dwindles as their time on earth fades. Tired eyes and tired hearts are what are left.

We love sleep, we dream in sleep.

Have their dreams been found and achieved, or do they float away with lost souls?

We love sleep, we hope in sleep.

Do their lives end when bodies fail, or are they just beginning?

We love sleep, we search in sleep.

Can they reconnect with loved ones, like in a fairy tale, or never see their faces again, as if in a nightmare?

We love sleep, we rest in sleep.

Do their cares melt away, or do their minds become crazed, like restless legs in the night?

We love sleep, we pray in sleep.

Is there a God they meet in Heaven, or an evil Devil in Hell?

We love sleep, we work in sleep.

Do they have room for regrets, or has all their energy been expended?

We love sleep, we die in sleep.

Is there a point at which they know, and go peacefully with no resistance, or do they refuse to acknowledge, fighting bitterly?

We love sleep, we live asleep.

Did they realize in life that they were asleep the whole time, passive pawns in a big world, or did they know enough to be awake, because a far longer, unknown sleep would follow?
Katherine Ann Dec 2013
I promised myself that I'd never share this.
Then I read it at open mic night in front of you and your mother.

Because the longer it has been
Since the last time we looked at each other
In awe
In love
In shock that we found one another
Amidst the **** in everybody else
The easier it is
To paint our story a hue of rose
To take the broken shards of trust
And make my mind weld them back together
Because as the days pass by and the calendar pages are ripped away from their future
I can’t help but regret not being able to rip those pages with you
Because when you held my hand and promised me your heart just at that very moment
But you couldn’t give me a guarantee of forever
I still felt that if every church caught on fire and burned to the ground
If every Bible was thrown into a fire and disappeared into oblivion,
I would still have faith
Faith in you.

Because every sweet nothing you whispered into my ear
Was written for somebody else
You recycle your lines
Your poetic lines
On girls you “can’t live without”
Oh
I can write stories
About a boy who writes poems
And thinks of himself as a tragic, cynical soul, whom no one understands,
Who falls in love
With an attractive whimsical girl with a “wild soul”
Who commits petty sins and dyes her hair wacky colors
And helps him reconnect with the beauty of life
And completes him in a way that nobody understands
Sorry it didn’t end up like that
I’d much rather look at reality just as it is
Yeah, you can write poetry
But I can write truths
And the truth is, you held my hand half-heartedly

Can I pry your fingers from the things that you hold onto
But have a bigger hold on you
They slowly dragged you down
Under the waves
And are drowning you without a sound
Can I try to make you smile
Can I block you from the rain
Can I stick you with a needle
And **** out all the pain
That permeates your bones
Travels through your veins
Pumps into your heart
And suffocates your brain

Every single day is just another gift
But if it’s not wrapped up with a bow
And handed over with a smile
Can it really be worth the thank you note?
They say anger eats you from the inside
And hatred burns you more than the one it’s meant for
I feel the ground underneath me shifting
Feeling less and less sturdy as the days go by
The anger surging through my veins like burning magma
Letting it drip into all of my cracks
And the madder I get
The hotter it burns
To the point of eruption.
Because lava can level an entire city
And once it hardens in my cracks
I’m going to just give up

Listen to what I am not saying
To the worlds I have yet to breathe
To the life I haven’t given all of my emotions
To the sound of me being weak
Listen to the scars I have carved
Less than gently down my skin
Listen to the pools in my eyes
Before they begin to drip

You’re fading like a bruise
Like the ones your mouth left on my neck and shoulders
With its loving pressure
Your lips, which parted to ******* mouth like it was salvation
No longer part to speak to me
You whispered my name like a prayer
Now you speak it like a curse

I kissed you like forgiveness
And you held me like I was hope.
We held each other like bandages hold two separated pieces of skin together
And prevent the source of life from spilling out.

You’re fading
Like a bruise
Like the one you left on my mind with your brilliant conversation and meaningless poetry
Like the one you left on my heart
When you opened it and poured your love into it
Only to draw it back out
Like a needle ******* the life out of me at the doctor
I wasn’t given a bandage to stop the bleeding
But I’ve figured it out.

I’ve never heard of a man
who can make flawed look so beautiful
the way you do
Forget-me-not green
But you have forgotten me
Left a bruise on my life
That I’m not sure
Will heal
But I’ll keep ripping petals off of flowers
Christy Gee Sep 2011
“Just this once,” you said.
I couldn’t wrap it around my head.
Your promise replayed and replayed:
“Those were my high school days
I’m done now
I’ll show you how
I’ll show you my grades
I promise you A’s
Oncology, psychology, Tour de France,
I wasted it last year, so now’s my chance.
I ****** up so badly
I love you so madly
I’ll prove to the world, to myself, and to you,
That with every vow I take I know I’ll come through.”

If you were so set on your integrity,
Why did you become the opposite of what you said you’d be?
Why did you say “I’ll be over at ten,”
Wait for my worried text at twelve, to which you said:
“Oh about that…yeah um, I hoped you’d forget.”

My list of why’s will always haunt me.
Why was everything you said so taunting?
Why did you always threaten to break up,
When all I needed was for you to hurry up?
30 minutes late? No worries, no big deal,
But after four hours of course I’d lose my chill.
I felt like an idiot, buns fused to the couch.
As time passed by, I became a ****** grouch.
You were out with your friends, unconcerned about me
Or the fact that you said you would be here at three.
Well, three became four, then five, six, and seven,
And you’d leave me to return to your friends at eleven.
“You’re tired of waiting for me? Keep yourself busy.
Use your creativity.
I won’t make time for you, that’s how it will be,
This is who I am, I dgaf, take me or leave.
'Good morning' and 'goodnight' are utter *******.
That’s not you and me, that’s Judy and Cliff.
You’re too **** sensitive, toughen up, be a man.”
But how can I when you always told me I can’t?

You were my *******, marijuana,
The more you’d say go away the more I’d want ya.
I got hooked to the feeling of having you around,
And now that you’re gone I always feel down.
But I slap my mouth shut before I can say,
“I miss you so dearly, oh please won’t you stay?!”
I’m an ex-addict, every time I want you back,
I remind myself you’re deceiving as a pipe full of crack.
I know you were bad to me,
but horribly addicting.


“Shut up now before I really get angry.
And when I get mad, I’m scary, trust me.”
I always shut up, I never persisted,
Because to every concern I expressed, you resisted.
I allowed you to threaten me, scared to see when
I awoke your dormant beast from within.


You had purple pants that I didn’t like,
I’d playfully say, “Don’t wear those tonight!”
One day in line at the DMV,
you reminded me my favorite shoes “are ******* disgusting.”
You always made sure to insult my attire,
But believe it or not, I’ve been told I inspire.
“Look at my two-hundred dollar French jeans,
How ****, son, I’m so ******* clean.
Now look at you in your thrift store outfit,
Compared to great me, humble you look like ****.”

I simultaneously felt like your mother
and your punching bag of a little brother.


Your words were the cookies to my Teflon-free brain,
I tried to unstick them; they drove me insane.
Hit after hit, after hit, after hit,
Your words were so spiteful,
Of my self I felt jipped.

I was the naïve fish that bit your line,
Of “You know I’m a good guy, so just stop crying.”
My tears would dry and I would feel fine,
But there was always an inkling in the back of my mind:
"This isn’t right, I don’t deserve this treatment,
I love him, I do, so why do I feel such resentment?"

You’d continue to reel me in with your words,
“I love you so much, Christy, of that I’m sure.
I love you more now than ever before.”

...


So tell me, sir, why, when I entered the door,
Just a few days after July twenty-fourth,
I opened my laptop to see on the internet
“Lu Rivas is single,”a few likes, and a comment?

Was this a joke? It had to be.
Considering just days before, you cried to me.
You cried to me? Or did you lie to me?
Which you did you expect me to believe?
The one who said “I used to do drugs,
Because of my horrible cheating first love,
I used to smoke ****
‘cause I couldn’t stand me.”
Or the one who got high two hours after,
Saying sobriety was a long-gone chapter?

The one who said “I’m gonna marry you one day,”
Or the one who said “This love **** is so ******* gay”?

The one who said, “We have all summer to hang,”
Or the one who said “Summer’s Wahb time, get over me, dang.”

The one who said “I’m gonna start training,
Doing well in school, cuddle you when it’s raining,”
Or the one who dropped classes, gave up himself,
To be with his friends and no one else?


“I love you because you’re so different”
Became “You’re too weird, you’re not liked by my friends.”

Were you the Lu who said “I’m in love with you,”
Or the one who said “That’s not true,
I have no feelings for you.”

It wasn't the fact that you liked to ****,
It was the fact that your every promise you broke.

I couldn’t believe a word you said,
My brain in a dizzied daze in my head,
Because the opposite would be acted upon;
My brain felt dead;
Constantly translating contradictory definitions
Apparently our dictionaries had opposing renditions.


“I keep you around because you care for me genuinely”
Became “Let me breathe, I don’t want you around me!
I don’t give a **** about you or your interests,
And I haven’t since day one, please understand this.”


Laziness, impatience, irresponsibility,
Every one of your problems was my liability.


You might be doing well now; I’ve no way of knowing,
But I see that your happiness keeps your smile still glowing.
Just thinking about your smile made mine grow, too.
But to you, it was an inconvenience to share a laugh or two.

I never changed who I was,
Or pleased my friends’ desires
While you slowly wanted to get higher and higher.
I wasn’t enough anymore,
Just a hassle and a bore.

I knew I was being naïve and immature,
So shame on me for believing your now-transparent words.
You were so authentic, your words were opaque.
Now I see right through them, all of them; fake.
Is fake too harsh of a word to use?
I don’t think so, I’m the one you used.
I gave you what you wanted, and at first, you did too.
But as time progressed, we weren’t one, but two.

Oh, and I must have forgotten to mention,
How you never really got over that girlfriend.
You used me to fill in the hole that she left,
Until you realized that I wasn’t enough.
I wasn’t a *****, didn’t boss you around,
She barked at you constantly and you didn’t make a sound.
But you left me the week after
You started to reconnect with her.
Just a coincidence? I highly doubt it.
You missed the girl who made you her *****.
Might I even bring up how she cheated on you,
To make you stay, should I have been unfaithful, too?

I lost you to popularity, to the glamour of high school,
You hang on by the skin of your teeth to stay cool.
Partying, not caring, big ticket items.
Days I heard stories of, I knew you weren’t over them.
"Those were the days, God that was great,
Green crack, ecstasy, alcohol poisoning."

You steered clear of the man I fell in love with,
And returned to the 16-year-old kid I felt no connection with.

"I’m gonna go back now, return to my glory,
If I do something to hurt you, I won’t say I'm sorry.
I know I was good when I met you,
But that person I was is now gone,
The clean me was so ******* boring
I will not change me for anyone.
I lost who I was, but now I am found,
Go find someone else, go fetch a rebound."


So if you hate me now, I couldn’t care less,
Just remind yourself that I gave you my best.
Family parties meant I thought you were real,
I wouldn’t have taken you if I knew you’d repeal.

You used to be so bright, so effervescent
As time went on you seemed so disconnected.
Impatient and harsh, rude and abrasive,
I couldn’t please you.
Your “love” was evasive.

You steered so clear of the you that I met,
Not leaving you is my biggest regret.
I wish we could turn the clock back and switch places,
So you could see how hard it is to feel sad with happy faces.

Because the eggs I made you were always cooked wrong,
Understanding things took me too long,
My clothes were too cheap,
My face was too different,
I wasn’t your happiness,
I was your ailment.

I need liberation from feeling so down,
To remove this heartache I wear as a crown.
But I’ll try to remove this gilded hat,
'cause you dumped me on Facebook,
And that is that.
The Clinchfield line flows from the mines -  and through the mountains of East Tennessee.
Wher menageries go to provide such a show - the likes of those we'd never  see.

The first glimpse of these beasts that came from the east - and such places where we'll never live.
They rolled in on the back and were pulled up the track - by the huge steel Loco-motive.

With this rolling stock that would bring such a shock - to the bustling boom town of Erwin.
All sorts of creatures where brought here to feature - where paying guests could get set to determine.

A lumbering cow was this company's wow - this Circus did owe its success.
But this pachyderm act would in time distract - and end up in a most awful mess.

Mary we can claim was this elephants name - and the boast is “the biggest in size.”  
For she sure was a hulk and endowed with such bulk - that I wouldn't be very surprised.

Too earn a few bob, Eldridge, new to the job – now the handler of this pachyderm.
This man was a fool and it seems, very cruel - as it said, he was overly firm.

He was void of the skill but enthused by the thrill - with a very go-for-broke view.
This creature he'd ***** with a great big stick – giving Mary a bad how-to-do.

He had picked the wrong day to cause this affray – as he jabbed with the long piece of wood.
Whilst he was being so rough he hit an absessed tooth – and believe me this figured no good.

With one painful bellow her trunk hit this fellow – throwing Red Eldridge around.
And such was her tread when she trod on his head – she crushed it right into the ground.

Bullets rang out and there was no doubt – they hadn't had any effect.
As before the crowd she still trumpeted loud – while the masses, revenge did select.

**** the elephant, **** the elephant – was the song that the crowds chose to sing.
Each and every man came up with the plan – they wanted poor Mary to swing.

The lynching was set and a huge crane was met – for Mary was five tons in weight.
Out in front of the crowds with them screaming out loud – her future was not looking great.

They secured her leg by a chain to a peg – whilst around her neck they placed a chain.
And whilst reeling it in it dug into the skin – as they lifted her up with the crane.

Back on the ground they heard such a sound – as Mary's big bones they did crack.
Then somebody said the chains still on her leg – and the elephant to earth did come back.

The effect of this trip broke the pachyderms hip – causing her incredible pain.
And with such neglect they then did reconnect – and they lifted the creature once again.

The crowds they did roar as Mary did soar – a day out it has to be said.
With laughter and glee for the whole family – this monster now hanging quite dead.

The elephant gone but the party went on – as this beauty did hang for this shower.
The boom town of Erwin all acted like vermin – and left her for almost an hour.

Buried in the ground she can not now be found – as many here try to forget.
To look in this face we see only disgrace – and forever this stone will be set.
6th November 2014

The town that hanged an elephant: A chilling photo and a macabre story of ****** and revenge
Charlie Sparks's travelling circus visited Kingsport, Tennessee, in 1916
An inexperienced keeper was put in charge of elephant called Mary
During a parade he goaded her with a spear, and hit an abscess
In pain, she dashed him against the ground and stood on his head
When residents began baying for blood, Charlie Sparks agreed to **** her

'Murderous Mary' was hanged using a railway crane in nearby Erwin
The photo is horrific but can be viewed online. It shows how cruel humanity can truly be.
Anna Blake Mar 2017
Summer’s time has come and gone
The walls, floorboards release a yawn
With nine months then to recoup, recover
From being a home, just for the summer.

Eloquent memories freshly remain
Of friends who nestled within her frame
A cabin of bunk beds, cubbies, fresh air
Where girls unwound with little a care.

Her crevice now holds a left-behind letter
Whose parchment hardens with winter’s weather
Yet the season’s sleet knows the warmer reflection
Of late night secrets and encouraged imperfection.

Spring has sprung most slowly for some
The evergreens exclaim a harmonious hum
Her wooden steps defrost, and patiently await
The coming of campers to the cardinal state.

Fall, winter, and spring all pass
Warm rays have woken the mountains at last
Each cabin’s frame stands taller, *****
While girls, all ages, reconnect.

Anna Blake
FullmoonFlower Oct 2020
Our flames dances in the dark
by morning they’ll be one
melted together
dancing for eternity
Our love is on fire
Lighting up passion
for the closeness we desire
by the morning let’s stay in
and wait for the sun to set
so our flames can reconnect
swaying under the stars
Melissa S Nov 2012
Do you ever go outside and just sit in the sun, breathe in, and just be still?
Do you ever listen to the wind blow and just let Mother Nature seep in and heal?

Close your eyes and look up to the sky and let your body sway with the trees
Be thankful for where you have been and for the journey that will lead you now to be

I try to do this as much as I can and wanted to share a little piece of me with all of you
This love affair I have with nature helps me reconnect and gives me strength to push on through
Tis the season to be out in the woods hunting and thankful for life's many blessings :)
Sarah Riordan Feb 2012
You’re special, but not much more than most.
You just happened to be in the right place at the right time.
I poured my heart out to you and leaned on your strong shoulders,
Even while you took advantage of my pain and asked for things you shouldn’t have.
We go through a cycle of me leaving you,
Going through withdrawal and finding other people to be my pillars.
But then you come in with kind words and gestures and I melt all over again,
Crumbling into your embrace.
My heart seems to constantly be full of pain to the point of overflowing,
But I always manage to widen it and make room for you.
Love is a tricky emotion and is as finicky as water,
Changing phases under different pressure and temperatures.
And yet I can honestly say that I have and do love you,
With your rough exterior and warm words that heat me up from the inside out.
Just like everything else in the world, there is an equal and opposite reaction to this love.
A hate that burns so hot that it can evaporate my stomach and dissolve me into tears.
I could easily be described as a responsible, intelligent, levelheaded girl,
The one all the parents used to hope would rub off on their children like fairy dust.
But this Tinkerbell turns into Dumbo when you show affection,
And misplaces her brain in the depths of her passion.
I offer myself up to you time and time again like a painstakingly prepared meal,
But you devour me, and spit me back out to move onto another feast.
Your words, which have kept me sane, can drive me to insanity.
I spend days, weeks, months analyzing the phrase, “I’m actually looking for a girlfriend now”.
I’d love to know what your qualifications for a girlfriend are because I must have met them once.
Has the bar been raised, do you think, “been there done that”, or are there just better options?
We always reconnect when gravity shifts and my world comes crashing down on me,
But I can’t help but feel it’s unhealthy for both of us if I rely on you excessively.
I don’t want to become the next girl who puts you into a depressed funk,
Ruining memories of a holiday for you along with any chance of a relationship.
But how do you expect me to act when the attention from you that I crave
Is only rewarded when I’m spiraling out of control, or just downward?
How upset do I need to be for you to give me a smile, comforting words, a hug?
How hopeless do I need to be for you to understand that I’m barely holding myself together?
And why do my thoughts and feet carry me to you whenever I find myself back in a dark place?
I mean you’re special, but not much more than most.
I guess you just happened to be in the right place at the right time.
Gwen Pimentel Jul 2017
I lost my mother

No, not to death
I lost my mother to technology
To social media
To that ******* Facebook
I lost her to the bright rectangular shard of glass that was her phone

There she could reconnect with her friends
See what they were doing
Reunite with long lost childhood buddies
And see cute videos of dogs and babies

I used to love going on dates with my mom
Just the two of us
Most would say we were like sisters
We shared clothes and stories
And life lessons in between
Sips of coffee and slices of cakes
And walks in malls just because we wanted aircon

But now when I'm sitting across her at the table
Her eyes fail to meet mine
If they do all she'd say was wait, I'm replying
Then her eyes would fall back to the screen of her phone
Never-ending conversations became conversations that never even started
Loud chatter above food became silence so loud I could hear myself chew
Laughter and smiles were all the same except they were done looking down, facing a phone

And now I would rather dine alone
Than dine infront of someone glued to their phone
And that says a lot coming from someone with social anxiety and fear of being alone
Because if instead of talking to me your talking to your phone
I really would rather just be alone
I promise you it's not that different

Social media was designed to make us all connected
Countries apart, continents in between
We could talk and call like we were together at that very moment
But now the people were beside
The people we can touch and feel
The people with us physically
We forget to talk to, we ignore
We become disconnected with
Yes, you are retying old ties with your old friends who are miles away
I get that
And I am more than happy for you
That you and your highscool friends talk again
But what's the use of making new ties if you don't keep the ones you have now

I lost my mother to technology
I don't know if it's too late
I know technology won't stop advancing any time soon or any time in the future for that matter
But I have faith
I know beneath my mothers eyes glued to the screen
are the same eyes as the ones that first laid their eyes on me
Who looked at me ever so lovingly,
Like the most precious gift in the world

I lost my mother to technology
And I hope it's not too late to find her again
Sijo Robert Z Jun 2015
It is winter and it is cold,
or am i just feeling old.

The shortest day is past so it is time,
to celebrate anew with a party sublime
and it costs naught, not a dime,
the event once a year, one-time.

A great event, a party, an event, a Do,
catch up on events and acquaintances renew.
Chase away this cold winters blue,
with friends and food and a good brew.

This Saturday coming as foretold,
come celebrate this special day twofold,
to reconnect with friends of old
and to dispel the winters cold.

Sijo Robert Z

— The End —