The Poetry Marathon

Dear Torri (Prompt 6)

Read this until you believe it. In my mind, I wanted to be the person to help you through, but my actions don’t know how to do that. Our relationship has always been complicated. You feel different to me. I carried the possibility that you “got” me. You had me opening my eyes to new experiences. It seems I never saw you clearly. I idealized the person that you were, and that left me confused about my lack of boundaries.

I provoke you, mostly because I’m unsure about my own self. You take me too personally. I told you that I was not going to fight for you to be my friend, and I felt you mask yourself. You started distancing yourself, then you attack me. I decided to fall back because I felt you trying to control the way I moved. I owe you nothing. You tried to discuss your depression with me, it makes me uncomfortable and I don’t even owe you a conversation. I know it comes off unfair but I don’t care because I have already shown you I was selfish. You chose to overlook it, and now you hold me to the fire. I only want to talk to you about positivity, be with you in your high moments. I know its shitty but I can’t be that for you. Even though you have always been there for me.

You have to learn to live with the fact that I am not you. I can’t see you and you can’t hold it against me because I never did.

Incredible

There are so many people

They also love to write

Let them hold on

My heartfelt words.

They also enjoy this ride

What a great pleasure

Though don’t know them

They are now a quite familiar.

Thank you so much dear all

For making this platform

Because of yours words

This time is the incredible art.

Subbing in America through Haiku: Hour 11

why do we still say

Pledge of Allegiance teacher

when our country does much wrong?

 

we pledge allegiance

to remind us of the way

so we do not remain lost

Telescreen

My eyes feel like they’re permanently crossed, but I have finished Poem #12!

 

Telescreen

 

You barrel towards me,

a dump truck loaded

with feces. If I refuse

 

delivery, you step on

the accelerator, and

the shit comes even faster.

 

Once, I could

bolt the door

to stop your words

from arriving,

 

but now they

arrive around the clock,

 

like unwanted packages

from messengers on

an endless shift.

 

The worst part is,

I signed up for this,

and keep coming back for more.

 

Despite my discontent,

I’ll return again and again,

until I’m too old and ill

to flip the on switch anymore.

 

I’m sorry, George Orwell.

I promised to resist, but

in the end, was seduced

by the thrall of eternal connection.

 

 

Play a Little Love

 

 

They beat drums with a purpose

A circle welcomes all to come play

In the middle free spirits twirl and dance

With loose clothes and hippie garlands gay

Hands pound out a passionate beat

Time to forget the past and live a sound

Passed down generations to now

Bring your own style and smile

And play a little love for awhile

Spot The Difference

Normal people are very abnormal
They expect everyone to behave like them
If they don’t, they are abnormal
Abnormal people are so normal
They don’t expect normal treatment
From normal people
They are okay with…
Who police the police?
Judge not.

Today

Today is a special day.

Hugging and loving

on a beautiful day.

Today is a funny holiday

laughing and smiling

the day away.

Today is a holy day

One of prayer and strength

on this day.

Today is a loving day

of giving and receiving.

Today is a mixed-up day.

Just a little bit of everything.

 

The Family Illusion

A family holiday—
surrounded by the people
meant to most love and
support each other,

I never felt that love.

I’m not what you would call
a black sheep.
I wasn’t rebellious,
I wasn’t outspoken,
I was just the middle child surrounded by
kids more deserving of time and affection.

Among my crimes:
being a vegetarian,
singing too loudly,
being a subpar gardener,
not being able to see visual illusions.

I felt ostracized from the time I was
six years old.

Surrounded by this atmosphere,
I knew I was the problem.

Clearly,
I wasn’t trying hard enough.

My grandma and grandpa,
my mother’s parents,
always hid the spite behind
fake smiles and side-eye

Now, I can see them for what they are.
Now, I have been to therapy.
Now, I know better than to bite my tongue.

Now, they aren’t a part of my life.
And never will be again.

Birthday Party

Birthday cake and candles at seventeen
Family and presents
Little sisters, blonde hair and bubbles in the air
I can still see my new blue dress with flowers around the hem
When I look back I can’t remember my dad being there
Never there when it really mattered anyway
Just another year that ended and began with tears
Not really your day or party even if it should have been
Maybe that’s why you hated every birthday until you finally turned thirty

Down to the Bottom

I don’t know why I started
A part of me changed when you left
I wanted something new
and also to forget.
It wasn’t the smartest option
at the time I thought had no other option
there was only one way to go
all the way down to the bottom.
Now, I’m here
sitting across from familiar strangers
all with a story to tell
our monthly gathering
to cope with it all.
I feel ashamed to be here
this isn’t where I belong
intervention took place
if only I was strong.
But there’s light at the end of the tunnel
I can see a way out
Jim has put his bourbon down
Johnnie is cleaning up his act
they provide me with inspiration
once a month at this gathering,
I’ll be back.