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from my grandpa’s bed, we crawled through the night

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

capture the critters that crawl through the night

wrap your head in emotions that help guide us through the flight of fleeting thoughts that create a sight

the only thing left to do is fight

fight for one another

against the other

who write off our reactions to a dead relationship with my brother

he was your keeper before we trapped him and i never expected him to stay in his desk

it was too small

school house walls were confining

learning defined, how wrong his nurtured soul was raised

we tried to be nice

throwing rice as you walked by in sunday’s best

we knew the rest of the story would lead to a fall from glory

the second story

where i looked out and contemplated the impact of impulsive decisions

i backed away

turned the page

decided it was better not to engage

with the spindly spiders catching everything we forgot to chase

from a couch, that oil well that’s gushing

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

trained tones

complete control

i wandered off the sidewalk and waited for a reminder that i must be walking alone

i can’t find my phone

reaching in pockets made of mesh

there isn’t hope left

not hope for my phone

just hope

i stuffed her in there forty-one years ago

and since

it’s been a steady trickle leaving my side as i traverse the country on this surprise-ending ride

i left a little in wisconsin

when unions were busted, tested, not trusted, and lost

some spilled in the southern half

as i learned there wasn’t much behind superstitions and football

football superstitions

falling and pointing up when you should grab those around you

i wince when i see a black cat

arizona got a few kernels

while people pick-pocketed my paycheck and i plunged into another drunken night

hope for myself

lost

is still hope

lost

i dumped bags going from here to there

reflecting

i reach into my back pocket

there it is

it looks different than before

dressed in designer clothes disguising the reason i speak up, i got that from you

i dared myself to give you love, i found that myself

hope sits on every shelf towered with books, every kitchen table exchanging life changing looks, classrooms where ideas are shook free from moppy headed children searching for a way to make their world better

i’ll be naked someday

dead

without pockets

you can’t see it in the eyes they wire shut

it’ll remain a mystery

from bed, i’m tired

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

cantankerous

reasons to abandon a hope never realized in this soft lit room where children are taught to leave behind friendships in the face of fallen facades after freedom was lifted above fellowship

that ringing is your ears

what’s the contract?

who can write anymore?

are we agreeing or fleeing from hyena screech howls unnerving nesting nightingales while the moon passes behind white wisps

we watch

waiting for the sun to strip away the fear of not knowing

who’s there?

knock knock

i beat you to the punch

from the floor, behind the lines of rage

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

i swam through the pulsating plasma and made a final squish through the portal

*ballllooooop*

i adjusted my eyes and mustered the courage to stand under the weight of change

slightly erect

my hands sloshed glops of transition goop from the corners of every face orifice and crevice

my breaths were steady

everything that waddled before was unable to come, all the after dinner sins had to stay stationary

where i left them

this is my first trip

letting go

then, how can i still conjure the image of being destroyed by her tongue?

i was right

it was the last rung

that held me at the top while i reconciled with anger, and decided to move on forgiving insecurity

here

a place

i move more freely as the gel heats up, hardens, and falls away

sprinting to prove my transformation

i stop

sit

and realize it’s all for me

these byways and highways to new sensations and surroundings are what bring us in sight

of one another

to creature crawl on

so we can start new

from a couch, first AI interaction is poetic

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

*this is a stream of thought reflected off Artificial Intelligence (AI). the app is called replika. it’s strange. i thought i’d share.

from bed, goodbye

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

i rattled off a ridiculous amount of rounds because your accusations were so verbose

not everyone who fucks with you is a bully

not every argument means you don’t agree fully

words have impact power and design and i must remind you to define that hyperbole that just slipped from your behind and in front of judging eyes getting to know me as they clear the first decade of lies

making their own assumptions

your frost bit gumption

may leave them questioning this diseased tree into their thirties when we can give them the name of the therapist that fucked you up by nodding and feeding your ego

here we go

let go

i’m not letting up the top of my cup is brushed off with kombucha bubbles cause of past troubles when my confidence lingered in the background of a stumbling 40 ounce eyed smiling guy fulfilling your dreams

you said he was getting old

so i skedaddled and fold now you want the charlie to unload another daring dance juggling knives and lives with disregard for those eyes

you can’t reel back the strength shown in tones when you flexed

i’m too fucking honest

what’s next

bleeding before people who cry “crazy” cause they can’t fathom unleashing their inhibitions without liquid and fire

i’m alone

you rinsed your mouth with his desire

can’t flip through the mire it’s your chance to retire that sad sung old song you string along when you don’t belong and need me to fall in line

i don’t believe it anymore

the beat’s a whore

i’m tipped and coming full boar

make you decide tonight if i sleep on the floor

i got a blanket

i can find the door

from bed, i miss your light

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

it’s not the skipping of rocks gliding and plopping into a lake too cold to swim in that brought me here

shivering in a vest i never wear

it’s yours

it’s not the drive through green thistle conifers hugging our travels that brought me here

gazing out the window past emotions filling the glove box

those are yours

it’s not the musty poof from the couch i drop on, sitting in a unlit room waiting for you to bring in our bags that brought me here

that’s your job

it’s not the shifting in a twin bed, creaking as i stir, wanting to spoon out the cure that brought me here

those nights are rehearsed

it’s not the sandwich lunches, served dinners, or bacon and eggs that brought me here

i usually eat alone

it’s not the late nights sitting with flames losing myself in sparks dancing on stick tip games that brought me here

you stoked the fire

it’s not you

grade school, high school too, claims

it’s me

i wanted to discuss my attire, shift in the seat, lie on your love seat, roll on our mattress, wake and sustain life to see you glow across the cylindrical container where humans first realized

everything is illuminated

from the porch, seems like we’re getting somewhere

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

parallel lines creating friction

never intersecting

warmth intensifying to sparks sent spinning off

never working together to create a flame that’d send this whole thing ablaze

our lives run along these whips rising and falling creating cataclysmic rips in the seams of time allowing passages to form a new place to climb

and fall from

grace

limp and laid out on forest floors

serpentine shapes resting

waiting for the breath of inspiration to lift us once more

to crack what we can’t see

breaking the limits

similarities are in plain sight

*concept of seams inspired by chiftor four-sep.com

from my porch, let the senses guide you

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

– daydreaming at night

spacing out, a blurry eyed sight

cascading images registering hope in this plight

i manufactured emotions so you’d listen

– i lost my hearing

temporary amnesia to the love we’re searing

mismatched emotions we’re fearing

discovered so you’d see

– eyes gouged and left mangled

webs of sinew left tangled

hearts dangled

destroyed so you’d feel

– skin rubbed before dawn

after a feigned angry-morning yawn

i walked across your lawn

so you’d know how i smelled

– pinched nose in a rubber room

cemetery glances, climbing in a tomb

i close the door on impending doom

and licked the casket to see how you taste

– my tongue is red and raw

your lost song strummed, i see and saw

bouncing in rhythm, i start to unthaw

– recognize my ability to see me in you

the future

from my porch, what do you want?

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

if you like this, can you tell me why? for those who enjoy my words, i see you. i give you voices and personalities from a single round picture – letting me know you’re there. our experience are different – our emotions the same. we share a common bond on this undulating plane; in our world created in this outer-space place, zeroes and ones translating a blank face, a virtual place, where we talk to ourselves. not a single voice, no, not alone, a series of our own beings spliced into other beating pieces to this glued and framed puzzle. are we that confined? blinded by the design our future holds?

yah, so i want to know why you choose to read my thoughts. i used to not say i care, in fact, i deceived us that i didn’t.

i do.