poem

from the porch, figuring out where things should go

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

organized thoughts demand order

you sought to destroy

i ran away from programming the syllables that bounced from my mouth and relied on intuition to avoid the faults forgetting that you had a perfect plan

i stampeded through your home breaking everything known to hold the mystery of where our love had flown with bumble bee rhythm getting further from the holy hymn that we hummed harmoniously to fall asleep

i can’t sort this one out

chasing away scurrying doubt

as i dance about the perpendicular lines of our love

from bed, what is this friendship?

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

i’m never quite sure where i belong

it’s not that complicated

it shouldn’t be

climbing up to witness your friendship without fee and falling when i’m not sure who’s me

it’s not you

a benefit to leaking emotions allowing you to see

let’s glide together

to another plain plane we’ll decorate with dreams

color splashed

then desecrate with grey doubts

rain clouds spit out mistrusted needs

i can’t meet you anymore

on the floor above the ones we hate

i’m the stranger

thinking friendships are sacrificial alters

unsure why i’m dying

and you’re not crying

from the porch, basking in shadows cast

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

defend the case for always being a bridesmaid

i never have to choose

the dress or shoes

waiting for the next to drop where a microphone sat after being spat into with slurred words offering a burnt piece of bread smothered in butter

i could have done better

that’s why i’m the one raising a glass

i stand and smile, while others turn around to face the face wearing a crown before being covered in enough food to feed the famine across dark and polluted oceans

where am i going with this?

standing behind while the hand kissed becomes a fist losing site of the target aimed for in this accolades fight

it’s all of ours

that platter

let’s fill it and tare apart home cooked batter, pulling from what we kneaded to make our lives real

this connection

a purpose selection

recognizing roles

aren’t reversed

from the porch, you can’t continue to decide

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

“look at the spiral

face aglow in defining malleable elements to create the essence of this space ride we’re all on

children”

you always seemed to drift away when i was lost replaying the conversations of a day that spun my mind wondering if i was okay

or, the one who missed something

i wrestle with trusting myself

when pictures of realities painted and placed in front of me are science fiction examinations

the human condition

yet their beliefs of what is occurring simultaneously with the rhythm i walk in while humming a tune of humanity with all i encounter

doesn’t match mine

did i miss something?

was the sky red while rain fell, washing seeds of sin from loose soil into a sea that held the toil of so many men, and women, to be sure, witnessing their planting of hope join a body of water stagnant with despair

did i miss something?

were conversations, honest exchanges, nothing more than rearranges of designs you wanted others to distinguish when interpretation should have reigned

did i miss something?

did you hear anything?

i was well aware

it was you caught in an insecure stare drawing up your plans for what you wanted to perceive

preconceived

pre-determined

i didn’t miss a thing

you lost track of me.

from a couch, below the knee

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

stationary bias

i can’t lift a brow of forgiveness anymore

our book tumbles

pages mixed together

it’s your turn

lift a leg and kick, wiggle your toes

drift apart

i’ll stick to the one memory that didn’t make me nauseous

cautious

contained in a box, wrapped and unwanted

i sat under trees as a kid

your selfish ways made me lift the lid and rid the world of desires that hid on shelves

presence you never gave me

dates never came

we didn’t believe

he came to reclaim

i’d rather forget my last name

than feel the shame that came when the finger of blame was pointed at me

from the porch, quietly rush by

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

remember you were the one who would stay

at least

you said you’d never leave as i tugged at my sleeve and tightened the noose while pain rushed in a momentary lapse of loose appendage drop feelings

my eyes blur into the only bliss i’ll realize

together

with the room

carpet catching leftover transformers relaxing in an easy chairs hard enough to ward off stares

you looked the other way

from the porch, the best medicine

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

laugh at the current state of affairs

remember it’s not yours or theirs

it’s the ones who place a comma at the end of a sentence, continuing the conversation with a pause

reflect

genuflect before the giant who is eating your lunch while you ponder the fact that he may be hungry

fuck empathy

i’m tired of your perspective and can’t afford another seat at this table where we pretend every opinion has a place

get the fuck up

hurry

and leave

or i should

yet, this is my problem

being polite

you don’t deserve me holding the door

i can’t say ‘bless you’

allowing you to utter a word compromises every bit of integrity i act like matters while we spin antique platters alone in a room, grabbing myself while i imagine my slaves bowing to the genius that was lucky enough to be spat out in a place and time that caters to my appearance

i can’t chuckle

embarrassment is meant to shy away from

not lean into

a fire

waiting to lick our faces with the flames

of ignorance

from bed, discontented yawning

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

cramped sides and quarters

led to denial and costly borders

sand and mountains weren’t enough

to keep you out of this spacial game where the goal is to gather stuff and stuff it in stuff until there is no more stuff and you climb inside the hole we prepared when love was lost and you just stared up the aisles and down my throat waiting to choke the friends we poke when we want to think we’re being cute

i couldn’t care anymore about the friendships that bore a lost hope life listless and with a whore

its close and threatening our ground game

i marched towards your house

turned around and realized there wasn’t enough room

the desert should have the answers

three friends and days will watch me

find something new to complain about

and be hung for

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