poem

from a chair, time gets stuck in the breeze

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

a moisture licked breeze kissed by emotion brought the smell of switching situations into the air with cloud rumbles and streaks of light that kept us interested in a changing affair

we sat on creaky back chairs

searching through cob wedded screens

switching focus from distant swirls to shapeless matting

through and within

what was captured in each?

your hand searched through your knotted and unwashed hair, the world knew

i was reluctant to acknowledge

it’s going to rain

passing time for the inevitable

love limply hung above us, waiting to blow away

your sighs matched my lies

neither of us spoke

where would we start?

talking about the weather is what got us here

your chair continues to rock as i hear footsteps follow the howl and slamming door

i sat alone

watching our clothes drench

we’ll leave them out for another day.

from a waiting room couch, watering holes

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

i can’t continue to forgive the slight hand motions you use to dismiss this wrecking ball crew of self doubt i shower myself with while starring in a mirror admonishing stray dog emotions, i try to leash and tether these carefully constructed cuts in carved out parts of my past to something more solid than the puff of smoke blown, choking through another night wishing i could sit with cafe lights and angry cigarettes, servers seven curses that they could give a shit i have to wait

i don’t have to

this is where i feel home

grimy tables and sticky seats, i’m no more needed than the powdered parmesan that parks itself on every pizza-place table,

nice to have, less noticed when used

you can do that too

use me

though when you’re done

would you pass me along

i won’t forgive you, i will thank you for the direction

from a couch, pride in a picture

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

her hands grasped a sign made with might, laughter, and community. with a single emphasis on what is right and sought after with humanity

equality

rainbow lips pursed, what’s next?

a kiss, whisper, or curse?

another step

fingers slipping

her eyes pacing around, intensity in song and chants resound

it’s her first time

another step

the dark witches chant for souls, grandmas sit with leaning goofy-slogan signs that still align with lifelong goals, while a feather frocked free bird frolics wanting humans to touch on common issues

she catches waves of ho-heys and hey-hos

knees adjusting

her mouth opens to join

she knows what democracy looks like

she tells the world

without a vote

she steps on

fists find the sky

her face widens and eyes smart to stages where leaders do their part, words are lost to be found with education, but she feels the cadence, fervor and intonation.

her hands find one another

a context for pussy

poems from cats, another trick from that hat

explaining

discussing

her steps continue

home

sitting, her couch of comfort, with bent and employed signs, sighs.

her mom turns on the news

‘that looks different’

she stands, shoots her mom a look and then upstairs to lay alone

images and words

she walks herself to sleep

from bed, decide ahead of time

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

saturday night slipped away to the anxiety of one more day when most people pray and i lay in bed dreaming about being chained to a deck far in the ocean wishing they’d let me home

it’s not that i need you to let me

you need to need to think you can “let” me anything as i walked where you have and gave the same change to park and drink a coffee

we haven’t made a difference

open the door

there it is

not the two dimensional you

you hugged me?

i dated your daughter and said the right words culturally financing a mixing glass of terms the way a mocking bird hangs in a tree i touched your grass and filed up his tree in privacy of a home made from an idea

masking the second string of strikes against my swinging wild sights that never could match your wit and condemnation of left over humans wandering for a place in the great race to popular links in our abbreviations and suffix i can’t breathe a slogan for the unforgiven pleas challenged everywhere of please let me be and signal a time when freedom didn’t need a punch in the face reminder that she is the one we serve in every conversation i leave in a blur what is this problem we keep butting against resource fundamental human emergent struggles

can we go back to scattered deaths and rewrite how we caught our breath under a tree

not face down beneath brick building awnings

from bed, i forgot the password

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

over time i lost my confidence

changing my smile was important to me

i got all this for less than fifty bucks

fair and honest

save, but hurry

we’ve learned a little more today

he spoke, but he’s less than forthcoming. surprise

can he answer

we’re frustrated

and this is the typical process

standard procedure

it’ll happen again

what is typical?

stay quiet

don’t slip

loose lips

i agree to cooperate

define my privilege

the understanding is misunderstood it doesn’t count, unless you want advice covering up crimes

we are entitled

focus on procedure, this is not usual

telephone the witness and stick your fist in his mouth, i’m covered, we’ll debate, i’ll die, before you rule

over me

evidence covering won’t fly like the pigs from your ass and out of the sky before i rest upon your inability to avoid us

from bed, somebody is in the cloud

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

meddle

involve yourself in me

i want you to interpret my pleas that come from questions to please those answers that speak

spinning plate shenanigans eating off everything that damaged us again

walk through your spent money interfering with advertisements, assorted as an example of grasping outside the typical espionage purposes

it could be something

news that broke everything that didn’t have pennies to toss in a pond

no wishes will be given for the fifth straight trip we made to get your coffee and wipe our smiles while taking care of you

done right

on time

supporting everything on sale

protect yourself

throw a dot com behind anything and i’ll visit

otherwise your hard work is worth only more caffeine more amphetamine more alcohol

fuck your elliptical go the whole circle through my thoughts and stick your finger upside down inside me with high blood pressure pulsations, creating brands that are the number one at healing your heart

a broken one

oh, you won awards

take a moment to address the veterans

‘you have benefits’

a loan

call this number and sit on hold

need money for your families

close in thirty days and owe us for the next thirty generations, blood or green backs

mr. president

what do you say to dreamers

duck

quack

doctors lie for you

capitol hill protests demand more action of inaction to act in my fault

it’s your party, dance

from bed, before the sun rises

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

step-by-step

catatonic children donned rhinestone suits for the procession

stamped behind one another

walking in tireless fashion

scorn sewn to their experience-less expressions

riveted and compelled

step-by-step

locked

filing past suits and pinned flowers, stretched faces finding and fulfilling their future

suddenly dead drum beats find their final echo

halting the synchronized steps to stranded conclusions, they turn to the marionettes and bow

moments later

scattering flashes

reflections a blur

costume changes

reassembled

labeled by age no more

it’s their turn to lead refusing to reuse tread upon tired traditions

instead

insisting you acknowledge purple satin sunsets wearing what you came in

splayed haphazard

in the birthing rays of dying days

step-by-step, shuffle, and step, run, now stop, step-by-step