The color red tastes
like watermelon during a ninety degree summer day
each bite; wonderfully quenching
heat
falling upwards from an overcooked sidewalk
red, is the warmth on your cheek
when you were too embarrassed
to speak, so instead, you took my hand
red is passion
that tastes like a fresh apple
sugary tears falling from your lips
Thought I would do a poem prompt that asked you to describe your favorite colors taste. I hadn't ever thought of that. Like how green can taste like a honeysuckle or a lime at the same time. I wonder if that composites over time. When you think of what green tastes, is it all the green melons you've ever eaten. Or more all the mint ice cream.
The skateboard wheel met a tiny rock
In graduation garb I fell
skinned elbow – my drink in hand
cursing
I got back on the board
pushing off
flying -
the morning before I graduated high school
When I was 18, I really thought it couldn't get any better. I had three very close friends, lots of exciting drugs and independence right around the corner. Little did I know that that independence wasnt what I thought it would be. Only a week after I graduated I would be dropped off in the desert. At a transitional housing apartment. With a huge klonopin hangover.
That place gave me time to “sober” up. Alone, in a studio apartment with a black and white television. A greened leather couch. I remember doing nothing. Writing a little bit in a journal realizing for the first time in my life. I was 'free'. I tried to take everything in.
The cars that went by. I hadnt realized the smoke inhalation would be so bad from an active street.
The sounds of my upstairs neighbor getting plowed because she took in guys from the aforementioned active street.
The older man who would sit outside my apartment, waiting for me to come out so he could bum a smoke.
A body hanging
Swirls blossom with each drop
Blood falls, the pool grows
The ground hungrily suckling
She was gone
The lady of silver...
She told me what it was I had to do
For now, I took her strength
I stood for the first time in years
Staring up at the clear starlight sky
I roared in triumph
seven days, seven bodies
for the silver lady
I had to hurry
Each night I see the crimson strings
Hover lively in air
begging me too follow
how I wish
I could
just once
walk beside them
see where they spool
somewhere
at the end
It really is weird seeing snow falling after fires burned so strongly this weekend. We had so much ash and now this. A picture perfect November day in September. I'm happy for it.
Vines wove down the wall
in spirals
tearing into flower beds
Standing here again
before my old broken home
it's more weathered
than i remember
The kitchen windows is gone
the cracks in the door
splintered
memories of this place
hurt
and nothing got better
I'm sitting on the porch
of my debilitated childhood home
remembering
It was a shitty childhood. I lived in a beautiful place, with a bad home. My dad was and is an angry person. He never hit me but he's hit my mom. I've told her before that because he's an abuser that he'll do it again eventually. But she always said that he was the love of her life. Or she'd make excuses. It makes me sick to my stomach.
On paper, they have money but in reality. They don't have working toilets ( outside of dumping water into the tank ). They don't have working laundry. Hell, the house doesn't have walls because he gutted them over twenty years ago.
Everyone has two sides to themselves. Im not saying my dad is all bad. I find it really hard to care though. I just see myself at his funeral – upset because I don't know what to say. He could of had a great life. He could have had so much if he had let others in.
He'll be known for being a funny, smart and hard person.
A fucking waste.
Sorry for being scatterbrained on this post. Just damn, if you do have parents that are sane. Love them. Because mine are going downhill. fast.
lose thoughts
pointed, selfish words
only lovers know the right ones
the ones that hurt
that rench
that wound
and still
love
it beats so loudly
it heals over
I'm holding you again
The most recent fight I had with my wife was over sending the kids back to school. I felt terrible. I felt like I was the gatekeeper thwarting my children from having a normal life. Trying to explain “why” but looking into my wife's eyes. The passion and hunger for normalcy. Have a normal school year. All I could do is spout facts / figures from websites. I felt like data from star trek and at the same time I secretly yearned for her position in the argument.
This year has been wrenching. I don't know what decisions you've had to make for yours. If its anything like my house, i've learned two things. Communication is a skill and hug it out. Wish you all the best.
Just trying to get some words on paper today. Or scribbled on a website. I would blame it on being Monday but I drank too much and couldnt stop watching “Lore”. I mean who knew that werewolves don't have tails in popular folklore
The moment had already bore so much
you needed to add your weight
how harsh you are
how simple
how undeserving
you don't belong here
do you?
Each day in life is amazing. Each day should be revered – it's just hard sometimes. Hard to recognize what we have built or what we live for. Maybe it's because I just finished watching “altered carbon”. So I'm having some existential angst.
Anyway, happy friday. I hope that everyone can relax and take a moment. It's amazing we are all here, at this time together. Considering how massive the timeline is. We are it. All that we get to experience.
I slept today
longer than I should
in my dreams
found a road
I hadn't walked before
It was a moonlight path
In a prairie land
Sand crunchy underneath
Staring up at stars
Falling overhead
Into an aurora
Following the path
walking deeper
into the night
Upon waking
I want this in my life
The best dream I ever had was during a flu. I was running a high fever, in and out of conscience. The dream wasn't anything special. Just me going to locker at a school close to me. I took a seat across from a girl. She was someone I had grown up with. I remember her looking over at me and I took her hand. We stared at each other for a moment and then she faded away.
She called me later that day and said she had seen me in a dream. That she had fallen asleep for a few moments in homeroom.