So it's Been a Little while

And by a little while.... I mean a lot a while. Life has been flying past me at break neck speak and I'm holding on for dear life because I know the minute I stop I'll have to asses the aftermath of everything good and bad that's happened on this journey thus far.... And I dunno that I'm ready to do that yet.

Over the last week I did some writing again. It's not that I haven't wanted to write before now... I just couldn't. The muse wasn't with me if you will. But now apparently I have been inspired and thus feel the need to put this crap out here for any bored soul to pick at.

These poems are reflective, (one humorous, the others.... well they're... Just read and see). The last poem was actually written first. The first "poem" was written about 20 min after the second one. Which were both written over a glass of woodford reserve and water on the rocks at a poetry reading.... I wound up reading all three the same night.

Enjoy them. Laugh at them. Think about them. Respond to them.



“Thoughts From Last Night”


If you have to name them Uggs
Why would you wear them?
“Let’s represent a response to a stomach ulcer!” Right?

If it’s cold enough for tights
It’s not hot enough for track shorts

Wearing your pearls at 8 am
Doesn’t make up for wearing his boxers from 2 am

And, a shirt two sizes to large
Does NOT equal an aptly sized dress

They say that I should be more Christ-like in my treatment of you all
Thus I feel the need to set you all on fire
And send you straight to hell.



“Come out from the Fallout Shelter”


THE GROUND IS SHAKING!

For every kid
Who ever wanted to redraw the outlines of the world,
But Couldn’t
Because they were told they weren’t artistic…

They are on the rise,
And their paint brushes…
They are sharpened into sabers.

THE GROUND IS SHAKING!

For every old man
Who had a story to be told before his death bed
…was made

But now they’re rising from the grave
To show that they are to be remembered by more than inscriptions-
On pieces of limestone

THE GROUND IS SHAKING!

And will continue to shake
Until everyone realizes
That we are all called

To
Shake
And
To
Tremble

Because the reality is
That we may not have another day

To realize that we are all artists

We all have a mark to leave

A pen to bleed dry-

Dry
Like my eyes
After years and years
Of tears
Over the fears
That

One day the ground will stop shaking

And I….

….I will be left unmoved.





“One Day the World will See what this is, and not what They Want it to Be”


This is not a poem
This. Is. Not. A. Poem.
THIS
IS
NOT
A
FUCKING!!!!
(poem)

This is a needle and record dance
With me pushing into you
Until you scream the things I want to hear

This is a star fighting against the moon
Knowing it’s bigger and brighter
But proximity is always trying to push it out

This is a soldier coming home from war
Wanting nothing more than to see his sweetheart…
But all he gets is a note (on an empty refrigerator)

No…
This
Is
Not
a
…………………………………………………………………………….{poem}

This is a slave running for freedom
Fleeing for his life
But not being able to see his way out of the field

This is a crying child begging to be understood
Screaming until her face is filled with blood
But her parents can’t seem to speak her *divine dialect*

This is 2 brothers in 1970 Berlin
Wanting to be a free family
But forced to live separated because of – concrete –

This is 2 lovers who want to embrace
Dying to be viewed as equal
But sleeping in fear because the world is afraid of what’s different.

This is anyone
And anything
That ever felt - That this whole damn world
Was so concerned with making a buck
Off of the pains and struggles
THAT
We call day to day life
That they’d rather win a Pulitzer Prize
Or an Emmy
Then take a second to help
The Subject Piece
(of their real life exposé)

For them….
This is just a poem.

But this is NOT
Their
[FUCKING]
life.









Well that's all for this poet. I promise I'll strive to post again before 10 months. I really do cherish feedback. It's how I continue my change and search.

CHEERS!!!!!!
{m.w.}