Bang My head against the Wall.
Make bed with dog still in it,
God I love you coffee.
Take dog out,
Walk all over no man’s land,
Waiting, still no squat.
Get chased by coyotes,
Lovely and did I mention it’s cold out?
I still love you coffee.
Good morning novel,
Oh you don’t want to talk with me,
I’m going back to bed.
I’ll see you in a few hours,
Slightly before my caffeine crash sets in.
So I’ve been thinking lately. It’s the holidays, it’s cold out and I need a healthy dose of humor.
Therefore, I’m starting up another theme-esque exercise. Except it’s entirely different. Though I will get back to theme. Eventually.
This new post happiness comes with a disclaimer. Nobody panic.
DISCLAIMER: This is not an exercise that involves me running around town in a Disney Costume, singing at the top of my lungs. That would be well, a bit excessive.
If you were looking forward to that possibility, I have just crushed your dreams. But you’re still going to get some humor!
What I am going to do is document my day to day life. I’m entirely sarcastic but it’s okay.
Anyway I will be throwing my “life stories” at ya’ll (me mocking my twang that lately people have told me is there).
Bad reviews, they’re like alcohol.
Read a review, you take a swig.
The words, like bitter buzz in the mouth.
Down the throat they burn.
The words are fire, you don’t like them but you can’t stop them.
The alcohol won’t kill you, but the words will.
Cruelty influences the booze.
Read one, you’ve read em’ all.
Take a sip, look down and the bottle you’ve already drained.
Read enough, drink enough.
Crash through life poisoned by that one sip. By that one bad review.
Once Ago someone saw,
An eager soul stretching for a lick of freedom.
I see them now.
They have no obligations.
They feel no pain.
They know the reaction.
In truth they see by more.
To them reality is a sore.
Picking and Picking,
Blood falling down trickle,
Never doing what must be done.
They saw it all by the pop of dusk,
The light goes away,
And in the dark,
The truth is far more fearsome.
Crowded with monsters,
Skimming their teeth over our flesh,
Out of darkness,
We can return our sense of humanity.
Find again our purpose,
Many ago we lost.
Find a way,
Someone hasn’t seen.
Once ago I thought I knew myself. But that was years ago. I’m me. Though I’m not myself.
I see all this time passing by and I think I should be different. Think I need to conform. I clench my eyes shut to pass away the voice inside my head.
Dammit I can still hear it. It never goes away.
My conscience. Is that what it is? Maybe.
All the maybes they drown. Not my soul. They drown my sense.
I’ve done a lot of changing. I’ve transitioned into different stages. I watch the News. I see all these things happening. I listen everyday, what’s going to happen?
I see it all, right here. Right in this exact moment.
I look across a field, glancing between the blades of grass. I can see her. Running, prancing, falling in love with the spirit of life.
She’s sprinting, she doesn’t see the hole. She falls in lost.
She comes back again. Staring back at me. Right here, she looks me in the eyes.
Gone again she goes, rolling through the hills, running through airports, jumping out of planes, and falling from skyscrapers.
I see her once again.
Right here, in my reflection.
I haven’t picked a theme yet, but simultaneously now I have.
Discovery as a theme has a broad context. You can either think a lot into it or a little as you would like to. Which is nice.
There is this beauty to discovery, it can be a really great thing. Or not. Really, it’s ones own preference.
What is important is that we are all beings. We come from something else. We may not know our origins, or even who we are. What makes us all alike is that we all go on this journey of discovery. We want to find ourselves. Or we want to lose ourselves. Maybe both.
My goal with this theme when I’m writing these poems/ short fiction is to not think about it. I want it to be real. Not created. If a sentence is going to come, then it should come naturally. If only a word comes, then good I have done my creative thinking.
That is what discovery is. Finding life along the way.
On the Wall
These walls take face.
Anew year by year,
The paint recedes.
The drawings appear thy noon.