I'm sitting and thinking of the past and I'm sad
Not due to the situations but because the quality is bad
I've always had problems with this faulty camera in my mind
The images get fuzzier the more I try and find
I've taken it apart, I've tried cleaning the lens
But the pictures sit around and become blurry again
The longer they've been sitting there the blurrier they are
Some of my dearest memories are the blurriest by far
I know we all may have this problem, that's why we all should care
Because clear and lasting memories are oh so very rare
I’m alone in my room
In the semidarkness
8 pm, the dusk has stolen
The world’s color.
I’m aching in places
I’m too familiar with,
These lines I tread
Are blurring blurrier.
Tongue in my teeth, my
Arms are too heavy to lift.
I am lost and furious
And cannot fix myself.
None of the noise is enough
To penetrate my skull.
I stare at a screen and hurt
And none can reach me.
The old saying goes,
May Showers bring June Flowers,
And I scoff.
The Showers definitely come,
But not from the clouds.
Rather, the rain originates
From the corners of my eyes.
And the world becomes blurrier
Than the mess inside my mind.
The feeling of having so much to do,
And having so little time to do it
Conflict with each other.
The two viciously swirl around
And a tornado ensues.
Decisions on top of decisions
Needing to be made,
Priorities becoming useless,
Any mentioning of the future--
And the thunder hits
Louder than ever.
People say one’s last year of school
Is one of sunshine and rainbows.
Deception, oh HOW they deceived me.
Expectations of bright blue-skies
Are shattered with mighty storms.
You say these May Showers
Promise to bring June Flowers--
The thought sprouts a little ray of hope
That the storms will end.
I suppose we shall see what blooms
waking up at 3 am
to make a cup of coffee.
that’s my definition
of happy.
this smile is rolled onto
my lips by your
glowering gaze,
and the bitter
aftertaste of your
tongue.
that smoky film is
what resides between
us:
evidence of hazy
backgrounds to our choices.
all we need is a towel,
we’ll wipe away the
unwanted stipend
of emotions just within
reach;
they’re smeared in
all of our empty spaces.
now you’re on the tip
of my tongue, hiding
from me like we’re playing a
game, but
when I seek, I don’t
always find-
because you see,
the older we get,
the blurrier our
minds become to
the simplicity of
life.
lay back and close your eyes.
jump into sleep as the
early morning
fades into the
day
without our company.
no good deed goes unpunished
no bad deed unrewarded
just deciding which is what
the altruistic and the sordid
depends upon the angle of view
what an act is deemed to better
and who it might be bettered to
gain advantage, and who's the debtor
gray is life's chromatic scale
certainty colored by present perception
think our discernment to no avail
that may be our own self-deception
clarity is the provenance of youth
blurrier is wizened maturity's truth
© Goode Guy 2012-11-14