Seen

I’ve wanted to be seen

for such a long time

that I beg for attention

work myself to death

push myself to be

perfect for everyone’s every

millisecond of the day

 

I’ve wanted to be seen

all my life

that I never stopped to

see myself

know myself

to be myself

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The Day with Verbs

Up with the throbbing  head again

No wine to blame

stumbled out the door

into the world

locking myself out

meandered my way back in

set to work

putting things here and there

walked the dog

recycling to the bin

errands ran

dishes to the sink

clothes to the hamper

litter to the bin

walked the dog again

finished the dishes

three pills

then off to bed

little moments building a day

a life

A Good Man Died

A good man died today, or maybe it was yesterday.

News of his passing just reached me today

A good man died

And in his honor I’m drinking some whiskey

Some sweet Jack that he would have liked

My heart weeps and my world quakes

But its foundations still hold firm

I may weep and I may wail

But my world has not been shattered.

My grief does sting , but it cannot, will not eclipse

That of those

Who held his heart their hands

Who lost their sun and moon today

To them and for them

I hold my glass up high

And weep still more tears

For grief, I cannot comprehend.

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I will miss you, Chris.  Be at peace, you are loved. You are remembered. 

Writing Exercise – I am Poem #1

Every nine weeks, my students write a new I-Am poem to help build  their writing portfolio and so they can see how they changed over the course of the year.  It is interesting to read them because often times even though they know that their poems will be read by me they confess little truths about themselves.  The format is simple and can be altered easily to let them express themselves more freely.  Tonight, I decided to write my own to get my creative thoughts flowing. 

I am tired and burnt out

I wonder if I will ever cease being living in a state of permanent exhaustion

I hear the not so quiet sounds of students working

I see myself getting older and wondering where all the time went

I want to do so much more than I am

I am constantly working to find a way out

I pretend that I have it handle, but I’ve never really been good at this game

I believe there has to be a way, a better way than the one I am living

I touch the brace on my leg and count the days until it is off

I feel the pain between my shoulder blades taunting me

I worry that there will never be another book and the thing my body has become will be permanent

I cry too often

I understand the cycle and know that tomorrow or tonight I will find my fight again.

I am myself and this is only temporary

Turn Back

Turn Back Now

Don’t hesitate

A Trap Lies Ahead

Adulthood

is filled with all the things you want

and not enough time or money

to do them

Paying all your bills

becomes the greatest thrill new photos 012

Momma Does

Sometimes Momma can’t be there do

what others say needs to be done

sometime she became a mother to young

or Papa walked out

or gotta brought up on charges
Or found a job three  states away

Sometimes the way the dice roll

Momma isn’t there to meet the bus

Or the check isn’t enough for

groceries and rent

Qso we eat in the car

and slept in the back street

Sometimes Momma can’t

And that’s just the way it is

But she don’t love any less

Sometimes Momma is afraid

Of the noises out side the apartment

of riding the buses every where

so she makes it a game and there’s play in the bus depot

An adventure everyday

Sometimes Momma can’t but she always does

 

An Open Apology

There you were

nervous shaking

keeping it cool

while your fingers

ran over and over

the cash in your palm

the hard earned benjamins in your pocket

You knew it was close

you tried to do the math

all in your head

figure it out

tax included.

 

In the end,

you were one jar

of double chocolate

peanutbutter short

 

You didn’t even sigh

or make excuses

just looked at the totals

and had the clerk take it

 

You apologized with your eyes

saying sorry for your lack of cash

sorry for the condition of your financials

sorry for something you didn’t have control of

in that moment of time

 

I wanted to yell

STOP

Have you cease your apologize

and pay for that jar

of double chocolate

peanut butter

tax included

 

But you were out the door

before I could find the words

out of the parking lot before

anyone had a moment to

consider who that jar was really for

or why you were apologizing for

something beyond your control

 

I am sorry because I have been there

and might be there again

sooner than I like to think

and know how hard it is to keep all the numbers

in your head

making sure the tax is included.

How the dialogue goes in

your head as the numbers keep adding up

and up

and up

and one decimal up

one can of tuna fish

or bagels too much

and you suddenly feel the need to explain

why you only have

$31.00 in your pocket

and bank account to back you up

 

A poem without a name

Stop the madness

the relentless drive to

be comfortable

there is no comfort

no lasting bit of piece

no moment that will take away

all the time spent being abused

by myself or others

so many of the scars

inflicted upon our souls

are self-inflicted

Stop the madness

do more with less

and give up access

to the world of want

Want leads to desire and

desire to suffering

Currently, this poem has no name.  I would love suggesting from readers.  Submit yours below. Please and thank you.