Notes About The Poem
I have been so busy. I just finished directing my second short film. I am very happy with the results. Now in the tweaking portion of post production. Brilliant performances in this film. In August I will be working on directing a feature film. Can’t wait to share my work with my PoetrySoup friends. Will be directing Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night as a stage production in October. Directing Stage is and always will be my first love. I am also available on instagram, twitter and Facebook under my real name Armand Hamouth.
Counting the Seconds
i sit lonely. the crowded restaurant is thick with sound. i pick away at it moving back into the stagnant silence of my own comfort. the air is nasty here telepathically abusing my thought patterns. still a far cry better then the loud hum of food making its way to the vacant crowd surrounds me. a decorated plate joins me at my table. immediately striking a conversation with the cutlery who had waited too long for her arrival. there is no call from the governor much to the dismay of various ethnic leaves now being executed. many bites later at my request a paper plane flies in ahead of schedule. a swipe of my plastic card makes quick work of bills demands and i exit seemingly too quick for the human eye to catch. i hate this part. i parley my journey to a few twists and turns all the while staring done at a concrete maze never making eye contact with a single soul. i do that. i always do that -keep the entrance of my being away from those who would stare me down and attempt to engage me in conversation with a desire to lock eyes. if they looked in they would burn and i would be held responsible. finally i reach my own personal mecca the only environment i feel safe in. my therapist will be proud almost an hour today. my progress will be staggering to her assuming i see her again. i am covered in my own dew. my breathing is sporadic. i line up an array of pills like good soldiers as i commence my attempt to survive another day. it will take hours to regain my sanity all the while questioning the purpose of assimilating back into the dungeon with the general public. it behooves me to find one positive reason i would want to join the rank and file again. to plug back in to that horrendous grid i escaped oh so long ago. i grow weary of my own thoughts. ignoring those voices slowly i regain my footing. having resumed my pleasant demeanour i plant roots hoping they’ll take hold. i attempt to return back into the vacuum of my existence. i fail and much to my displeasure exist as i always have. i sit lonely.
Written by
Armand Hamouth
aka Maurice Yvonne
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