emotions

from bed, dedicated dining rooms are boring

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

when do we get privacy?

communications where we have control

really, it’s inviting isolation rather than gaining clandestine adventures

a complete lack of being alone with our thoughts, writing and contemplating without the fear of judgement cast by those we keep away from when dungeon doors are closing

i gather my understandings and undress foretold scenes

dancing in rhythmic movements

waiting for a turn to share our self-reflection with the moon

she’s full of regrets

lighting the sky with our lost bets

seclusion

locked in chat room vaults, a text message waltz, typed to friends with whom we keep jokes on the inside

laughing at those who free-ride reside in rooms where we cried

alcoves of infinite sequences

zeroes and ones

echoes

i want you to navigate this alone

are you ready?

to synthesize information

understand false relation

virgin exposure without our steady-head-nod composure to ‘okay’ your decisions

i trust you

ready?

from bed, battle drums

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

stranded somewhere between east and west lines that divide a world only spinning for our comfort

every night she positions herself in a bed designed for two where the fate of another shrew is tamed and told where to whistle contrary tunes that pound through puckered lips parading past arm powered ships setting sail to island fantasies waiting in polluted oceans for us to conquer, or douse in gasoline and set fire

leaving constant reminders of human desires to contemplate death while passing through moon phases predicting the flow of life-stopping blood

bustling between scars left by the constant consideration that somewhere, something, somehow is better than the ticking clock we throw back and forth now bowing to unrequited lovers leaving for another zone to practice their polite panting exercises

let’s stop with the please and thank you’s

and understand

head nods and need are enough

stranded implies i can’t leave

there’s a way out

you

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 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 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 a plane, the flight attendant didn’t know i knew her story

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

nervous smiles were quick to exchange between deranged thoughts she was taught to rearrange through black cat-eye glasses and red lipstick, luck is lost when she walks by

ask the love that was suppose to survive

vows vanished

she kept the candle

lit once

for all to see

before eternities sea rose and dampened the flame, a single wish never blown

just chances, set them free

unfortunately

she loved the pinch of handcuffs

i met her today, ironic-squints passed through scratched lenses as she pulled a yellow lifeless vest over sprayed straight hair and taught us to float

if we should fall from the air

what to pull, who’s responsible, face masks, make sure you can breath…

before you confront emergencies

her eyes fake scanned feigned-attention faces that won’t follow the plan

her plan?

she popped a mint and sat down

the captain has twine and a lighter

her hands are clean and free

landing safely

she wished us a good stay

there’s two ends to every candle

from bed, sleep won’t come so easy

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

clock click bang

click clock bang

these are the words they sang

silver shells blast through pain-hell halls we create while zombie emotions learn to tell the tales of our fails

heads and tails

loser at every flip

bang

through the head they rang

bang

well rehearsed responses

‘we’ll pull together. we’re -blank- strong’

wrong

that song

roots you assholes

roots of the cause

these bloody symptoms

pills keep popping pushing away pain

diseases keep spreading

i can’t feel it

i only respond

stop

i looked at those faces today

i do every day

eyes

sitting, searching, nodding

they know

they can’t count on us

if we’re not there

talk, share, define they’re grief!

they don’t ‘just know’

we have to pass this thing down

campfires and kitchen tables used to illuminate our faces, not rectangle spaces

they know

no ‘they’ don’t

open your fucking mouth

from bed, go back to then

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

“…a tree falling…”

i couldn’t hear the last part

creative cashing-in

beveled blades that transfer wealth

i crept beside her

listening to the steam rise from forest floors

casual benefits

blithering

shrugged silence

broken trials

treaties

denials

retreating

we couldn’t keep up

halted

still life

left listless in language-less hallways

advances

echoing dance steps stranded in anxieties alien shoes

technology

bring me back home

under her draped past

arms that welcomed

a few million

others came under her dress

around a breast

out of reach

couldn’t spare her breath

pass a test

one in four

chances

they watched you erect her

defilement

i’ll believe you when you say it happened

i can’t hear their words

if i’m not in the room