Monday, March 7, 2022

gasoline

 



as soon as i recognized i am not magnificent, everything beautiful looked different.  out with the old in with the obscene.  we keep pouring gasoline.  as soon as i learned i am not remarkable, everything beautiful became uncomfortable.  all my thoughts dangle on this guillotine.   as brilliant as i think i am, without wisdom, i'm just a simpleton.  as wasted as my life has become, someone else is more impotent.  we are marching to the same machine.  we keep pouring gasoline.  

when i realized i am not incredible. everything beautiful became unbearable.  turn the pages skip to the end.  this is one story i don't recommend.  dangling from your lips, the nicotine.  let me pour the gasoline.  i expect nothing less than mediocrity.  so i can disappoint you exceptionally.  intelligence leads to superiority.  my thoughts burn in gasoline. 

as soon as i admit i'm insignificant, everything beautiful will become magnificent.  out with the old let it burn to smithereens.  i keep drinking the gasoline.  i once believed i was impressive; impressively underwhelming.  exhausted from the same routine, pass me the gasoline.

when i noticed i am not notable, i considered myself disposable.  everything beautiful became unapproachable.  that's the aftermath of gasoline.  everything remarkable becomes obscene.  everything holy becomes unclean.  you were next to me, pouring the gasoline.  it was just one more wasted dream.  

i came to terms with my prominence; ordinary opulence.  the juxtaposition of in between.  start all over, pass the gasoline.




Saturday, December 11, 2021

Ghosted




Ghosted in the autumn when silence was my thing.  Close up, upon further inspection; call it introspection and being self aware isn't the bliss I'd think.  And I wait.  Just in case, an explanation rewards my patience but who am I kidding?  I can be stubborn to my own demise and its no surprise I'm alone.  And the disguise is laughable when the loneliness is palpable.  And I wait.  Something better in me; a resurrection.  Give me three days to apologize.  Prop up my sincerity for the sake of perception.  If that's what it takes to reverse this hole you left as you slipped through the walls of my life.  And I wait.

Maybe it was one sided.  I'm okay with the self-absorbed.  Between the Hallejuahs and thank you Lords, the golden rule becomes double speak.  Things I love, like minds and mystique, become rest stops to some twisted kingdom I seek.  And I wait.  Just in case, you cared for me beyond the chicken soup I sometimes served.  The praying kind isn't always concerned.  Small talk was never our thing.  How's the weather, the banal think.  And I wait.  In banality.  

 

Highs and lows.  Some bi-polar parrot repeating my thoughts.  The autist in me still has undeclared wants.  Cocaine and narcolepsy.  I'm awake.  I'm asleep.  Silence was always my thing.  Hands like a fist, throwing hopes at the device I hold.  Words come to me on this inhumane screen.  Tell me where the ghost of autumn was last seen.  And I wait.  Just for noise.

Came to terms I am someone you don't want around.  Change the furniture to make room.  The flowers of December won't fully bloom.  Just in case, I wait.





Friday, September 11, 2020

Coming of Age

 

When the U-Haul truck slowly rolled out of the driveway in one final respectful goodbye to the home she grew up in, I wiped the lone tear from my eye.  It's awe inspiring to witness the death of innocence. 

It was one of those adolescent moments where I revel in the romanticism yet years later, cling to because it scarred me.   I loved her.   It said so on Page Three of the scantily clad handwritten note I left on the windshield of that large dream killing vehicle.

Out of the grip of love's bittersweet clenched fist, I can't help but rewind and see where I went wrong.  I mean, where I, as a human being, went astray.  Am I wired so imperfectly that this moment was inevitable? 

I was laying on a waterbed; caught between the curiosity of sex on this uncomfortable fad and the misery of knowing I will never be able to tell her how I feel... well, I knew one day I would tell her but by then, she would be married with 2 kids.   And I was right.   I stared at her pictures of then and her family portrait of now and I realized I am her dodged bullet. 

I defined those years by my anarchic teen spirit that was used to mask my profound sorrow.  She was my soulmate.  One of many to come.  All those anxieties provoked by my very own prosaic desires.  God is good, I said.

Thawing from a cold winter in the solitary of my own mind, I can't help but seek warmth in those moments where my silence gave me hope yet gave birth to regret later.  I find solace in their happiness.  I will find a small dose of peace in yours.   Dear friend, I am writing to you.  In my own way,.  I am a better person than you believe I am.  I am worse of a human being than I believe I am.  I am overstated and misunderstood.   Dear friend, I was coming of age.   And I froze right then.

I was the one who held his hand as his trembled.  I suppose I wanted to absorb his intelligence, his toughness and his mystique.  He was my brother.   As each day passed by, we watched his life slowly drip from his pores.  Man, we are old, I said.  He half smiled and punched me in the arm.  This time, it didn't hurt.  Years later, I cling to the failure of saving him.  It was my job.  As his brother. 

We accept the love we think we deserve.   Man, I wept when I heard those words.  Sure, I've heard them before but not in this state of mind.   You make me feel bad about myself.  Or maybe, you held up an inner mirror.  I don't like mirrors.  Never have.  It was never hyperbole.  Truth is the least obvious sometimes.

I went to a New Years Eve party.  Some asked if she was a model.  Man, she was tall.  Taller than me.  Beautiful and broken.  Beautifully broken.  I had better things to do 5 minutes after midnight.   I started off the new year being stupid.   She started off the new year being raped.   I should have stayed.  No one deserves to be left alone with strangers.

I stood in the rain under cover of a payphone.  It was a suicide, mother said.  I was drunk.  I knew in the morning, the world would be different.  And it was.   My new circle of friends had expanded.  Hers, diminished by one.  I am sorry, soulmate. 

I was coming of age and it was no different than you.  Or anyone.  Similar tales of angst, loss, joy, sorrow, and intensity.  They were better days.  And, it's hard to think they can be matched. 

I tried, dear friend.

 

 

 

 

Thursday, September 3, 2020

Paramnesia

 

I was standing on the sidelines.  I said too much.  Probably didn't say enough.  I think I've been here before. 

If only my mind could be read.   If only my heart could be seen.  If only I listened.  I think I've been on mute before.

It's a two week drought.  It's a lifetime of what could be.  If I said, this is the worst.  If I could say how much this hurts.   Out loud. 

I was laying face down.   Pillow collecting the rain.  I couldn't breathe.  I did not want to.   I think I've felt this before.  This is different.  Worse.

Sticks and stones.  I would rather be beaten with those.  Some words never go away.  I can't unhear what I heard or unsee what I saw.   I think I've felt redemption once before.

I was sitting on a park bench.  Soaking in the summer warmth.  If only you were proud of me.  Or me of me.  I think I've been here before.

I've been sober way too long.  Love is the needle injected into me.  If only, she knew.  I think we are better off without me. 

It's the perfect loneliness.  I think I've convinced myself of this before.  It's the imperfection that drew me in.   And I never wanted out.

I was standing on the sidelines.   I said too much.  Never said enough.   I think I've been here before.

 

 

 

Wednesday, June 17, 2020

Fifty



Running out of heartbeats.  A predetermined number known to no one.  I feel it coming.
And I am counting.

What do I want?  I want what I've always wanted.
Someone who gets me.
Doesn't matter.  Won't get to fifty.

Heard you cry.  So what do I do?  
Can't win for losing.
Can't be me trying to save you.
Time moves on swiftly.
Wish you were here.  Won't get to fifty.

Self fulfilled prophecy.  Not my cup of tea.
Slept like a log.  Not my reality.
Or my simile.
Thinking of dreaming.  Not my fantasy.
Oh sure, we can JUST be friends.  Not my avidity.
and I've got the audacity
to hope for fifty.
Question everything.  Not my integrity.

Running out of heartbeats.  Double the recommended dosage. 
Today, alone.  So, I laid motionless and counted.

What do you want?  You want what you've always wanted.
Someone who gets you.
When it comes to loving you, I have not been thrifty.
Probably doesn't matter.  Won't get to fifty.

But I'm counting.