acererak

Chocolate found my tongue From the ancient fingers of my grandmother. She never cared that I ate dinner Or that I'd missed naps Children to her were to be spoiled A rule hard to forget That now forty years since I can still remember being by her bed Listening to her final breaths

#poem #poetry

Simple tasks are a joy That I struggle to repeat Because it's not enough Simple isn't easy

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Ive seen magic In making others laugh at funerals In singing through a thunderstorm In finding old photos and sharing I've seen magic That is so common You can't tell me bubbles don't carry wishes to another world.

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I'm what remains when I forgave myself.

But

The splinters of my father's thoughts. His memory, his methods, Are a spike, rooted deep Like a cursed pole Sending my compass To false north.

But I'm his legacy That has to grow above That has to a accept and forgive That has to go beyond.

This is my problem, That isn't my problem.

I hate him and I see myself In my memories of him.

Growing and accepting. Whatever it takes to grow. Whatever I can do. I have to.

#poem #poetry

It's not your fault she's angry... Unless in fact, it is.

But she'll never tell you.

She'll says she needs space.

So basically you hover In empty space instead.

It could be your fault.. it could Or it just might not.

The battle is in one of our heads.

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Air tore by my ears and burned For my bike had become a tribute to zephyr Speed building on speed The all but silent world of acceleration Heart, bike and balance almost tranquil As the slope down began to bend My body adjusting as the concrete turn Bite into the tires We glide out, legs pumping Turning my eyes up I see the end of road A gate, a beach, an ocean I stop peddling and glide The sea air whips as I slow Breathing hard, I'm happy

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When I looked away you got drunk Within a few words. I'd see you tumble into yourself Falling down the hill into a dream Except you won't come back up Not tonight.

Tonight is over. A wasted thing That grew in flashing lights And spoke in loud karaoke Truly when I saw it, I thought it Magic. Unbridled youth With all the world's temptation Within each thorny stem

Until the next day, where it lay Washed out, an unclean welp. If ever, beauty showed A dying flower once lived, bloomed, once experienced, the crown removed.

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My muse came from cassettes In a walkman On a school bus While the world passed Sunlight rode waves across my red notebook Sometimes catching my pen Scrawling crimson ink furiously across hungry lined paper.

I was alone then Not like now But I didn't know that then. And, I think it matters To remember Being alone.

To write about those lost moments Scrawling misshaped ideas That held promises That held me

The struggling aspects that fought For some medium to breathe

I was alone then But I'm not anymore.

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The inner world, for me Is a vast collection of imagery That blends each moment Into feeling Expressed so fleeting That even regret forgets itself That even success rots in reflection

on introspection, this world is stained glass

In one hand is paper The other a brick

My breath catches.

Spin, release

Feel my insides pour out of in rainbow splinters.

Around me, glass becomes sand A mural of spinning colors.

A torrent of unfinished, Unbound energy.

Infinity

#poetry #poem

I draped myself in nonsense. it only seemed right. life, is a silly notion, that ill celebrate it tonight.

#shortpoem #poem #poetry