desire

from bed, sometimes sphinx rest in the middle

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

the pharaoh didn’t walk alone

on that gilded sand

legions of weak dreams followed her around

fading away to a blur

still strong enough to stir the breath of fresh water waiting for warmth in the morning stream of thought that hadn’t occurred without the jarring distant discontented sounds breaking on our painstaking turn to burn the love we adjourn without acknowledging the slight differences between us

i’m not stunned anymore

indifferent

she confronted me as i stumbled with squinting eyes searching for answers to the riddle stranded in the middle of barren emotions balanced on the line of where we’re going and where we went

now

she’s waiting for me

on that gilded sand

leading me to the land of tomorrow’s memories

from bed, bath, and walking upstairs – traffic was heavy

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

stranded and willing

copper plated evening attire drew me to you and kept us circulating thoughts of wonder and tragedy.

the way we started

moving in circles with motion to sense our lack of control the way we hid in remote locations and occasions of caution with the stream line left to linger on a wandering night through blowing sand and dead elf wishes when cruising through the forest was easier than waking through gilded rooms of gold and silver wishes

deciding it was you who would lose themselves in grafted family trees where it was meant to be

i shouldn’t have been drawn to you

magnetic malice blew through the door halting progress passing through conduits dreamt up by our lost lips remembering the taste of penniless moments dreaming we could be coated again to pass freely to one another’s passions

from bed, your yellow bird

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

he couldn’t find his way through the textural maze of self-doubt and criticisms sang to him before bed

there were still bars surrounding him

cries to stay alive barely realized all he could surmise is those legs better bend and rise to help him climb up to the only group big enough to feel like he belonged

homo erectus

homo connectus

they couldn’t exclude him

they’d try

running through fields of cigarette butts and self serving pin pricks, random stray dog licks, and get out of here boot kicks he found the porch

there, his eyes, unable to stay as still as his blessed heart laid fresh to his yellow bird.

a peculiar feathered friend who found a perch nestled where the pole met light, well, half-light as it struggled to illuminate the lives left behind by economic rewind and prepared paychecks to keep in-line the ones who had to make it to the end of the row

a distant connection undefined, interspecies, yellow bird stared straight, their eyes catching

he fumbled a tweet sound from lips left without water, yellow bird cocked her head and riffle fired a ‘good morning’

he replied, in english, he figure she’d have to learn to discern the chopped sounds stumbling as pleasantries were exchanged

‘will you be my…’ barely met oxygen when she swooped close and led him down blocks built for ‘others’, this was new

gliding freely, from corner store to school door they followed nothing and found no floor his heels hardly hitting a ground where lines were found, outlined cousins and sisters bound, street names and histor-ies to protect and divide, relied on boundaries and lies that trap and bind our senses

there’s no mystery

it’s the songs we hear when nights are blistery, do they keep us calm or awake, waiting to take this piece of cake promised to us once a year

she led him back to the porch

not a spark, a roaring torch kept him warm and would help inform the decisions left to lead him through the dim lit days

she’ll come back

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 couch, pulled from the past relevant for the future, our present

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

**Cleaning up some ideas, i wanted to get this on this site to go back to.

Bonus, enjoy.

Written July 9, 2016:

To the death

Cities dead

Our children learning geography through humans eating humans blaming humans assuming humans racist humans scared humans.

Red

No, we can’t go there, children were shot, Mickey left the castle believe it or not, a new town marred and sandy hook scarred. Eiffel tower? and now the lonestar? St. Paul, New York, wait, let me stop.

It’s everywhere, where I’m not.

Oh, it’s here.

Less bullets more minds.

Why does it take death to realize

It’s racing through you when you first rub thighs

Inhaled between your infant cries

I can only surmise, you’ll act surprised when I say I see it deep set in those eyes.

Blue

The ones who kill others they haven’t met, willing to take a chance on a half baked bet

Fed through the tv set.

Aspersions cast

The stars of this show.

We are taught not to regret.

It’s in the mirror

A faint windex smear, I thought I scrubbed hard enough to make it clear.

The filthy ignorance of generations passed.

God damn Mississippi can we at least get past the spread of color on a gay mans mast or hue of human skin, please, at last!

Green

What were you told when you were young?

Face your fears and they’ll be overcome.

Face them with confidence, poise and grace

Not the end of a gun or scowl on your face.

My team, your team, the team that won.

We lost

A stain on cities, the cost?

Do you see your place in history?

Understand you matter?

Is this even reality?

Orange

Struggle to know that we are killing one another, killing one another, a child has a mother and you are killing my brother. Assumptions, gumption and praised ignorance

Come together!

This doesn’t make sense.

I don’t believe things are this bad, it’s illuminated by this new fad. Pop culture stupidity, video game invincibility.

Yellow

That’s a child, your neighbor, police officer – you can name them.

Black

So what now?

We can keep collecting cities, looking at kitties and all shapes of titties. Or, we can galvanize, open our eyes, stare in surprise about the reality that came from lies.

White

We don’t hate one another.

We’re Afraid.

from a couch, a shorty

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

stranded in a city made for me

the pilot who brought me here was sure i’d have a key to unlock the mystery buried in the sea of starlit sunshine that sunk our treasure it’s glowing beauty is all i remember in passionate riptides it was pulled out further and further and further and i gave up watching and decided to leave

**A draft that didn’t see light, not sure of date:

i wake up half baked and the world gives me time to add and equate the benefit of doubt due to the color of my skin a lapse of reason a few minutes to begin good intention seekers nicely imprisoned for laundering our whites, not the socks in the duffel, yet an equally angry vet wondering where the rules went with an ever changing board designed to adapt to rent its slipping away and the fear and intimidation that still sit silent in alien suburbs where they don’t see torches as necessary defense i’m the lucky one spewed out washing my skin duty delivered and i’m stuck within clambering to the next of kin where do i go? i want to help. i’m not one of “them” the great forgetting wasn’t lost on me i’m decidedly pretending i haven’t added to this. the start? polish and Italian joke books in 2nd grade, mocking street slang, defining identities by the size of their nose all the while being told ‘but you’re not one of those’ i wasn’t overtly taught to be racist, so i supposed, its who we are under the clothes that i wore in an effort to avoid confrontation i didn’t know why you couldn’t eat bacon. i should have asked. but when you’re born with privilege that you don’t even know math equation symmetry is all that’ll show.

adjust our lenses

feel the flow

all are one toe to toe

from bed, the plate is loaded

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

the line between love and unkind voices

voices that shake at a moments notice hoping we will go away during their midday walks to the food truck, ungratefully George Jeffrsoning it to the window hoping it’ll shake down a smile

it doesn’t translate

it wasn’t even close

he tries again assuming trips to Mexico count as language emersion experiences ordering tacos with american cheese

assuming

unseen eye rolls

he wraps it up and flip back his tie

you can do it in reverse order

the dramatic tie bit

or, is that later tonight

he gives the eye to a flipped gender he thinks he engendered while discussing the ‘nectar of the gods’ (his words to be sure) he’ll be gurgling with four other bloated fucks who look like him

unscrewing little black caps and discussing states and years

your status is clear and clearly defines the time you think your curfew is while you leave behind that high school sweetheart story you smile through after your first morning coffee to show you have enough sugar to kill the economy of both countries and reconcile erased travel trip nights ‘networking’

the caps piled up

your lease on life and luxury car allows you to make it home without a question from that swerve on your phone

you

you stumble in lingering with that last stop complaining she is acting like a cop while self serving yourself in the mirror through shaken and stirred lenses

she’s crying

you think it’s irrational

go to sleep

and stay there

from bed, clouds are clearing

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

catapult yourself over the wall

now duck down

close your eyes

caution will slip away

look up

the peak is covered in displays of light-hearted remorse drifting by as another scene unfolds

did we forget our lines

i hope so

let’s improvise interactions that have fallen to rehearsed reactions captured by a narrator who taunts us with mundane fractions of our day lost in painfully predictable and particular fashion causing greater factions in the mental boxes we open and close with emotional roles defined by effect and cause poles that leave us both

lonely

gasping for breath

i could do anything

i can

i can stand where i once sat and forget what i once thought while dancing where my feet grew firmly to the floor

we have chances to break free once more through a sliver in the door

a sliver in my pore, stuck painfully deep no tweezers long reach can free me from carrying this piece of trying

we must

breach the gates where chain links now lock us away

push

now, push

push

stop

locks need to be opened not forced to disclose the truth of our course that lives on this side of the wall

open your eyes

we’re there

from bed, i want to play with this one

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

i forget

how wide do you cast that net?

is something lost in the width

a myth

dilution of relationships

the ones we claim with a first or last name junior status and the patriarch game is comfortable, traditional and somewhat unconditional.

where do we go when we can choose everything?

you want that, right?

the ability to choose

are you scared you’d lose the tethering of strings a single mass of balloons, thirty or forty each, helium filled, carrying up individuals into the night sky taking turns who gets to ride on by

we couldn’t possibly come together

who would be lifting and recognizing from above

the specks we laugh at perspective gained a person to blame for their reign and i couldn’t possibly remember all your names unless it’s mine

drones walking

careful what you wish for

we are all in this together, but not how you want

there is no common goal

save that for falling off a bridge.

hate me

question and cause a disturbance knuckles in my face causes growth and believe it or not that’s for all of us.

benefit a few at a time

over the wall humans are confined and kneeling down for an unwanted god just give me your time and help me plod i can’t soar that’s bullshit and more

look for what’s more

utopian drunk visions blur our ability to realize we’re at sea drinking salt a bit less buoyant i can’t hold three hundred million or six billion hands and hearts. i got fifty, maybe five, you read three hundred but they’re just taking pictures back to their hole

with their five

doing their thing to stop being alive. the answer, it’s drifting. stop thinking we’re all anything. we’re all everything realizing, collecting in groups benefits the whole. which i dug myself one, but these gatherings are not defined by race or religion. those don’t exist either. i mean, you made them up cause you were afraid to gather with the thirty who were around. lost and found. fight fucker, fight and love. you’ll hoover. you’ll meet the same disastrous light. careful now, it’s got only two generic D batteries to last through the night.

from bed, cud

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

she usually saunters in with stale sunlight revealing her sin

i walked by as she broke the silence

it was required of our relationship

stunned violence

leaving my desire for later in that day i made a point it was in the midst of hampering their progression as street weak police officers glare their vision of what happened in lies of mouths to ok the invert slavery shuffling back in our gardens too small to see a city plot working forty your not acres and fools it’s enough for our tools to be left on corners and stealing its borders fold the corners you ducking idiot he doesn’t laugh at those jokes it’s the eggs benedict cover your yolk you god damn fool know your boundaries quit pushing people away with your derivatives of cancer and fishing story answers it was as big as you think you made it up in that pea sized shit brain you call home of good luck and we’ll all wish it while walking away from trite phrases and mint gum

to each their piece of your normalcy blasted blanket eating tuna sandwiches stinking up everyone’s world get out of her fat bastard fear