Long Beats me Poems
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I have lived – adventures - had a few.
I have loved – had love – one or two.
Today seems to have neither – nothing new,
as my life is but a distant, clouded view
of all that I once lived, all I once knew.
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The universe I know, by light of day, comes to me in shades of blue.
She avoids, it seems, until the night, when everything is a black hue,
pot marked by specks , pin pricks of light, indicating, there is more to do
and see, and understand, then to romanticize the night skies, we view
as members upon this human ship, we guide, as part of the crew.
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My universe is but one, huge, black hole.
My Daughter’s life, her pain, I do not know,
as she beats me up with a hurting word,
hostile emotions, a parent need not have heard
or have felt, as my soul begins to melt
in the raging flames of it’s own pain.
What is it that fates hand has dealt ?,
this old father, eyes, heart, soul drowning in rain
with questions of ?, what is going on, once again ?,
that she must strike out, shouts loudly, screams about
that which really has nothing to do with her action
as she strikes, fists pounding on me, a reaction ?,
to break my heart, crush my soul, this, do you know ?
I feel so much like this miserable, November eight, day
– saturated on the inside, lost, empty, cold and gray.
Melanie, is in the grips of another negative spell.
What’s it about ?, why is she lashing out ?, she will not tell.
The gloom I feel inside, I am unable to hide this afternoon,
for it hangs so heavy, drifting about, filling my every room’
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I have to wonder what lies ahead – down the road ?
If, with wisdom, - with insight – it could only be told,
what grief, what pain, what heartache the future will hold,
for this father, this man, this soul so old,
who, under all this weight – might possibly fold –
that he carries upon his narrow, weak, slouched shoulders,
like the back packs - uncertainties of war – carried by soldiers.
B. J. “A” 2
November 8th 2002
no one told me it would hurt like this.
like sandpaper scraping through my veins.
head pounding, body aching,
tied and bound with chains.
they never explained the pain I'd feel
or the way my body would shut down.
straining against a sea full of destructive things
and I fear that I might drown.
I don't think I can continue
this is far too much to bear
I crave the habits that numbed the pain
that pulled me out of this despair.
the pills used to set me free,
and I'd drink until I slept
now reality beats me down
the title of sobriety is the only thing I've kept
I miss the times I couldn't feel
the times I can't remember
I don't want to feel this way
just a blink away from a bender
being sober feels like torture
I need the drug-induced bliss
I know this is what's best for me
but no one told me it would hurt like this.
k.s.<3
A trembling earth
panics and cracks
tortured and teased
by the bullying wind
the ground gives in
cornered by gusts
and my red maple falls
ripped at the roots
the windstorm’s fury
fizzles to a breeze
and people move on
swayed by the sunlight
I watch
from my knees
in the dirt
of my garden
as an arrogant sun
beats me with heat
how they relish the rays
that freckle my skin
and bask in the breezes
that mock me
while I brown
like the leaves
of my pink bleeding hearts
left to wither
in the bright, sunny remnants
the passing storm fades
behind a clear sky
taking with it
the menacing wind
and the shade
from my fallen red maple
The bell rings out loudly, signals the start,
must earn my keep through the pugilist’s art,
my foe is a tall one, beats me in reach,
to get in close my trainer sought to teach,
where those long arms won’t do him any good,
but right now his jabs hit link planks of wood,
I bob and weave, and I duck some of them,
but he’s a trip-hammer, again and again.
Duck and dive in, swing straight for hit gut,
just missing his skull, and a nasty headbutt,
like old Marciano, I pound at his ribs,
to steal the man’s breath, like Mickey Ward did.
He grimaces, struggles, but doesn’t play tough,
just does the smart thing, and ties my arms up,
the ref break us up, both of us can breathe,
then jabs come again, my eye starts to bleed,
but I break the jab, and drive close on in,
the blood just the cost for getting near him;
a hard way to make a dollar, that’s true,
but what else is a man like me to do?
I’ve known all along that I ain’t that smart,
and always got by on muscle and heart.
It’s an optimistic opportunity, not a burden
I want to talk to you cheerfully all of the sudden
I want change
I’m just so strange
I have the strength to better myself to change all of me
If I put my bewildered mind to it in pure ecstasy and liberty
Freedom beats me down in this tranquil town
And rises me up with an upside down frown
It’s a pessimistic tragedy, not feeling a ten
I tend to isolate myself honestly once again
I have the weakness to estrange me from you
If I can have a heart, I’d be set free from rue
We have purpose and if we can achieve it,
Do it…we have the legitimate reason to be lit
In humility and love
From high up above
Sensational sympathy helps me a lot, helps me a lot
Dedication to empathy copes with my emotions of naught
Fire me up with graciousness
Inspire me down to Earthiness
Calm my palms
With biblical Psalms
Clasp my hands upon your blessed, brazen bosom
Grasp how much I understand my feelings of numb
Let go of me,
The ugliness of envy
Have the strength to change, the strength to be strange
Rearrange the adoration beyond a rageful, radiant range
Believe in me
Reflect on thee
Kingdom come, Kingdom come
That’s the change that I’ll become
I was right.
Sucker punched anyway.
They say that those turning right go first every time.
But like wasps-
Anger leads direction.
I feel pungent as spinach that gets spit out.
Yeah, I was right about this and that.
And other stuff that beats me up inside because I could ramble on and keep being correct forever.
The right of way in this world.
Means that I should turn right now and again.
I was right as a ragged breath in a runner.
I was right as a caterpillar’s cocoon getting so tough.
I was right.
And it feels like a participation trophy anyway.
Seven deadly sins
within myself it begins
Every little lie built up
Now compromise for
Anger~
I lost control
Gave it up
And screamed for my soul
Lust~
I stared with such need~
Every barren love
Left me yearning for a seed~
Envy~
I was wanting to be you~
You looked so happy while i was so
Blue~
Gluttony took over and said
Eat it all until your dead
Greed told me
That I
could make it real
Take it all
In fact, just steal
Sloth told me that I could stay still
Let the water flow past
Make it real
Finally pride stepped in and said-
Nobody beats me, im the best at what i've led
Seven deadly sins
like snakes crawling up my spine
Reasons to begin
But feelings start to feel sublime...
The woman I loved was not mine to defend,
But the wife of the man that beats me, my friend.
As I heard my jaw crack and break,
I was not here to fight I was here to take.
For we both knew, what we did was wrong,
We danced to the devil’s adulterate song.
Her eyes screamed my pain,
To me love and heartache feels the same.
One minute I’m standing the next I am floating towards the floor,
My body is numbed; I stand willingly to take more.
I look at her, and a smile creases my broken face,
I see her; I still love her in the midst of our disgrace.
Did I say she was not mine to defend?
Well he should not have touched her; I beat him to no end,
The man that lay at my feet, my friend.
I lay here, unarmed, and vulnerable to the damage that has been done. I want to cry, I can cry and I will.
The feeling of it all, discomforts me, hypnotizes me, leaves me wondering; who have I got left? I think and the answer terrifies me, shakes me; how come? I have no one.
These breaths, they puzzle me, how do I breathe for nothing? No one?
And yet so eagerly, I look up for better things, brighter beginnings, but the thought ends, will I truly be happy? Can something powerful enough in the days ahead of me give me comfort? Bring me peace?
Yes I have been fooled, betrayed several times now. I have figured out my flaws; I trust too much, love too much, and forgive. I don’t know why but I seem to refuse giving up this false matter, false clinging to this object, idea, or spirit, named “Hope”.
Yes it beats me up, yes I have been slain, slaughtered, and shattered; in the walls of denial, and query I was trapped, destined to taste suffer, with the eyes of mine I did see, moments, and events that slaughtered me like ice and fire, those eyes of mine, show me things I don’t wish to see, they slaughter me, although part of me, organs of my being, they still do. In the times where I thought I was strong, in times where I thought hope would save me, now it shatters me in the presence of all thy people, makes me its slave by clinging to it, begging for mercy, for chances, and for that I am weak. They all thought I was strong, unbreakable, but now everything proves them wrong; I do break..
These tears I thought will cleanse me, purify, and strengthen me, but now whenever I do cry; those tears are just like whips that drain out my strength, deteriorate my goals, and terrorize my dreams, and so I abandon them..
The trees unfurl their buds and blossoms cheer.
Howdy-do Spring…achoo…grab a tissue.
Grass grows Godiva-strong. It’s as I fear -
For all your beauty brag, I’ve an issue.
Here goes: my t-shirt clings with salty-sweat.
The sun is harsh…it’s heart beats me to death.
There is no pool in sight…I’m not cool-wet.
I’m sick of lemonade, its stinking breath.
Forget the drilling of Carpenter bees
and clouds of gnats as I relax outside.
The dive-bombers, abuzz - I’m ill at ease.
The insect fog does follow close, my stride.
Season attacks - Spring’s not all its beauty.
Jack Frost…better off when he’s on duty.
1/31/2023
Spring Is Not All
Sponsor: Michelle Faulkner