poem

from bed, cat scratch severe

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

he kept jumping

scratch scratch thwump

scratch scratch thwump

tenacious scratches unnerve my senses causing me to do the one thing i don’t want to

stand up

walk over

and open the door to allow traveling voices to fall down hallways making their way to ears unable to decipher sarcasm and forceful conversations

he scampered to chemical receptacles and liquid filled storage bowls, lapping and looking, ears adjusting to wind pounding echoes on windows suffering a winter storm

we don’t hide

he does

you aren’t sheltered

humans have emotions

we share this

it’s what tethers the strings of differences used to construct facades aiding in the grand effort of divide and conquer

we’ve been taken over

which means

we can take it back

clutch the vestiges of memories drifting gallantly towards another realm where we’ll welcome back the comfort of knowing you’ll see the needs i have to continue raising hands clenched and clasped, breath gasped, and flesh passed

he came back in

curled up on a brown folded blanket

and closed his eyes

i closed the door

and turned the lock

from bed, our kids are amazing

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

gum wrapper halls and discipline-poster walls were walked out of today

left to absorb silence

while voices against violence raised and moved through our city’s, county’s, state’s, country’s vibrating lit fuse walkways, ready to go-off with their genuine refuse to let their school mates fall around them

signs pulsated on the horizon while chants shook somber souls staking their claim that they figured out this rotating shell game of policy, politics, and the plague of platitude payoffs pushing an agenda leaving them to take to streets, ending in a square where their puzzle-piece youth-fucked facades came together to form a whole

inspired

classrooms filled with one piece desks

uncomfortable at best

couldn’t contain our kids

when enough is enough

they taught today’s lesson

target hit

i took notes as they cast a breath of inspiration into a nation drowned in denial

listen

Video from Student March, Colorado, USA 2/27/18

from a bed, daydreaming about tomorrow

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

it never ends

this struggle to ensure our humanity

validate our humanity

claim and reclaim

action without blame

our humanity

what does it mean?

we’ve spiraled in and out

towering long distance bombers

keeping a safe distance

they’ll clean up after us

up here, our ears can’t hear the shouts

though we grimace with doubt when the killers eyes rest in their sights

on us

close range

leaving us more determined as we walk the path, marching spurred by aftermath

when will we stand

fist high

before bullets blast windows where teenager’s eyes search through daydream-cries wondering what tomorrow will bring

the songs they’ll sing

to wake us up

they’ve been watching

taking notes

i’ll be there with them

witnessing results

of our failures

humanity

in all it’s calamity sleeps soundly in trust, love, and a continual fight to be sure we don’t forget

we are humanity

from my porch, coyotes howl

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

i’ll walk next to you

not so fast

i need to make sure my shoes are tied, my caps on straight, and align the strings on my hoodie before i make a break to join you on this tromps through back-alleyways and caverns created and tested by few who were willing to take a risk

escalating our senses to the uncomfortable point of understanding we won’t ever get there

where?

“but how much loooonger?”

there is no long

you’re there

keep walking doesn’t seem to register with those still stuck at the starting line, striding in place

a treadmill race

wondering why the gun shots echoed, smoked, and left our senses

i saw the proof

they waited

we circled them

lapping

without a place to claim or win to regain the slave shoveled medal designed to remind us we’re still wandering, working, developing

stop talking

how can we be anything but equal?

when we’re nothing

not nothing without a ‘thing’

nothing with everything

waiting to be recognized will only leave you guessing

nowhere now

unrecognizable

my feelings vanish

dreams escape

electric pulses now form our shape

free

from bed, straining

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

wondering what i have left

rhythm falters

i think too much

about what the words display while

i fade away into a couch that held more memories than forgotten times

wishing we were blind to the next step

pressing into the sand

wanting desperately to lift my feet

struggling for another beat

heart flexes

temptation splinters my mind as i lunge towards desires

abandoning stability

undressing your ability

rubbing silently

clamoring for the next line

to give you something

good night

from bed, i’m hungry

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

too tired to relate anymore

i find myself closing the utensil drawer and wishing we never combined our unmatched forks

we still

eat every night

together

you know i use a small spoon for ice cream

a large one for cereal

knives stay put, only used as decoys for visitors wishing they never came to the last house on the left, right and ready for an unarmed theft robbing me of the unforeseen heft of hearts that fill and slowly leak onto plates decorated with mountain peaks and swooping birds, blue on white

a swallowed moon making darkness might

blood drips and pools

suffered a fool

once before

never more

our glasses collect the falling core

a meal for one

i cross my legs

and dig in

from bed, waiting by the phone

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

a formation of words developed from an ancient sequence of symbols used to make sense of utterances that slide out of mouths with a measured degree of certainty all resting on the belief

that we matter

that the individual exists

a pulsating whole, ebbing and flowing through all encompassing envelope folds drowning the highs and lows, drawing us out further, the undertows, eddies swirling us down and back above the rows of chairs that they sit in and judge

ourselves

behind benches and carefully dug trenches while lifting the relevance of robes worn for decorum’s dreams

donning fabric changes who you are, what we believe

so, tare off your masks

dance

howl noise that can’t be recorded

and find new ways to say hello

to the parts of you

making one

from bed, we’ll rise to their surprise

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

stand still

look around

focus on where the measure of a human is found

resting in dew drops dripping through fall leaf furls, cascading over ripples, rolling from red to yellow, finally forming a single tear

fall

pool

absorbed

soaked into story telling soil, spreading and climbing up spindly dendrites sucking to stay alive, splitting paths to where the needs reside

cycles

the rain stopped yesterday, dry air deadened our breath

we had enough to sustain

for a few hours

until we fell on crackling brown leaves lifting powder black dust passionately puffed into plumes signaling our demise

the formation and rise of a phoenix bringing rain

a chance to love again

from bed, we’re not acting

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

when the torture of today’s truth is realized, recognized, and surrounded by sensible steps forward, we can march to principles based on a common cause and find a way out of this collection of clues troubling our thoughts as we stir in dark rooms

squeezing severed with reality eyelids trying to sleep for an hour, maybe more

then their voices crash in, rising and falling, bouncing and walking, screaming and mocking, crying and stalking

our calm that came when running hallways of blame

now lost

laying alone

my consciousness switches to my pounding-hammer parts responding to the sounds you use when trying to be seen

the sounds

echo

a final statement set with treacherous tones

i’m not alone

you come with me

when i lay at night trying to find peace

for all of us

inside these senses reflecting

impact

from a chair, almost there

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

i couldn’t comprehend the chants as the ground started to swell

twisted satire leading the way

a fantasy display to detail the tale of this five act play in a rented out band shell drifting towards the slow decline

draining the last drop

to please sadistic pleas

wading in the rising sea

feet finding a safe path leading, beaten

it’s lonely at the top

push out

push away

falling all around

wires touch between my hands

i’m in control