poem

from bed, content not knowing

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

red beams straddle high rise eyebrows rating progress with opacity

excitedly giggling over redundant efforts to stop thinking of my hyper allergenic nerve crossings

more about blessing the offer received from a president’s hand

he can wring it dry and wash clean

it’s still red

distracted by an evening

choosing to be mean as the machine claiming responsibility

this time humans are free and unfairly sublime

we’ve discovered a new dinosaur at the end of the century line

he proved it couldn’t be the end of time wickedly condemning the stream

if only he’d sit and watch

from the porch, i played better than i though i could

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

i thought it was my fault

i was trained to believe that

somehow “it” was

i’m so powerful

so mighty

that situations that switched around me in a moments notice, occurrences that washed away never discovering their outcomes

rested on my presence

a pretentious way to be raised

yet useful to absorb and wring out the guilt of those who know better

blame, such an unfortunate window sill we sit on while gathering light to press on for a few more minutes

sometimes i hope for seconds

sometimes…

i lose myself

wandering away wistfully relieving the sensations brought on by your memory flashing around me reminding my content self i played a part in pushing your panic button response to walk away

leaving me here

to pick at the festering wound created by understanding

i could have done something else

from grandpa’s chair, anxious in a rut

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

curled up and connecting

we don’t watch you anymore

stomach hanging out by the front door where diamond drenched doorstops held a reminder that you can come and go as you please without witnessing the deadened-end nail stuck firmly between my knees

where your fingers used to play

denim stretched and torn, worn out and waiting for fingers to slide in

tempt sin, against the skin

shadows hiding in ebb-and-flow tides the one who abides by the dude without a ranch hoping he can be more than window dressing up for another dance

this time he went alone

stuck to the wall

a flower never going through the motions of understanding the importance of being patient when ernest was fucking with verne and anchovies

i couldn’t lie about liking your favorite pizza anymore

if nothing said would help restore my pants pushing through saturday morning’s silence

i would

from a stool, waiting to release

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

waiting for the throng

the bang

a sonic wave to wash over the emotions that sunk into my sunshine travels as i wound my way through another day to end up here

waiting to hear the release of fear, the stale smell of beer as i stay sober and absorb the night bolder without anxiety guiding the way to forgetting what you say while i walk this away and know my nights better look different than day

what’d you say?

can’t find it

look harder

it’s resting on the shoulders relaxed and unwound understating it’s where i’ll be found

reverberations

revelations

thank you for bringing me back to my senses, before i misused these lenses

and saw what wasn’t there

the sun will discover my flight after this break, as i sit wondering where to run tomorrow night

from bed, filling the void – a bit crass

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

frustration fills the void where the desire to fuck normally lives

a bit crass

i’ll dial it back

i’m generally gentle with the words i use to guide you around the manic moments that dip to the downside while describing boxcars hanging from cliffs that don’t exist with passengers scurrying about creating the illusion that this is all real

that i care

you visit

i’m in my underwear, scratching and moving about in slouched motions, languid and limp

uncaring

hoping you’ll take what you see back to my family, one less limb to hang ourselves on, and wishes were something i gave up long ago when you could have just stuck with your first lie

the truth became your second

the one that destroyed any hopes of reconciliation before you left

i was right

it was agreed upon that night we criss-crossed our fingers and promised to push pass desires that drench other dinner going deadbeat dickheads

i warned you against my best

i held my own

i became

something greater than that empty vacuum with a cord too short to reach her room

leave it alone

the mess you helped create when your selfish intentions were strewn across a melting floor with trap doors all labeled ‘what for?’

and i couldn’t answer

see you on the other side

where the frustrations don’t apply

and i’m free to fuck

without a void

nothing to avoid

filling and refueling

whole being sensation

connect

pushing and pulling

gentle now, i forgot, i’ll whisper softly

‘let’s stay locked’

from bed, existing in a frame before you fell

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

one by one

they realized

we can’t be embarrassed if the faces shamed are left down with a carpet-eyed stare hoping you don’t call their name, or reach through your memory files and throw it away

i stepped over another body on my way to claim the one prize we have left in this intercepted breath atmosphere that straddles your beckoning beauty

in-and-out

puckered lips waiting for a prom night kiss so he can justify tearing off her clothes

leaving another generation never wanting to have kids

at least not those kind

the ones who never would be brought home to mom cause they’re already in her kitchen eating curly fries and sucking down soda-pops that splash on the floor from their careless transfer from here to there

or, they ‘shook em’ up real good’

i’m tired

tired of searching for people to hate

i ‘you fucked up’ a car for wanting to go left today

he probably lived there

all day, relaxed smiles and reassuring words

i pound through the doors and see stripped down metal bullshit erector set architecture that doesn’t live up to my expectations

i roar

inside

it’s hard to let go of the frustration and pissed off feeling that bangs around every corner where lexus driving mother fuckers are making mistakes

it’s not the lexus

not the shoes

not my family that sang these blues

i’m not satisfied

with me

indelible marks of childhood laughter

at me

because i couldn’t climb a tree

that was my brother up there

i reached

he fell silent

never again would i reach a top

of anything

what i don’t see

doesn’t exist

the opposite then, must be true

if i believe

anything

from bed, a second attempt to run around the block

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

the same thing applies to you

creatures claw their way from my warm worn out chest beating through flesh and breaking bones seeking fresh air

a new host

a trusting soul

they paraded through

gnawing

unglued

putting out lights left glowing in the caverns of my emotions once held out for you to see

to taste

dine with

now waste

limp

once, i led the way

now my carcass splayed on a dining room table that once displayed the fortunes of letting go of our parents chains strangling their names and dancing over the mind numbing games of self righteousness

they played

ignorant of where it would leave us

the ones who watched

we took notes

i ruined you

you had a chance

when i told the truth

now the gremlins grow in you

waiting for a chance

to feast again

from my grandpa’s bed, symbols crashing without vision

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

a fuzz-static symphony woke me

i quickly pulled a pillow with both hands around the back of my head and buried my tear streaked face in stained sheets wishing it away

sacrificing fresh air

it was never thin and clear up there

where i learned street signs shift with every passing whim and fancy that suits your manipulative fingers peeling back paper and shuffling cards

i lie alone

i can’t discern the nuanced back-peddling bullshit that brushes my elbows and keeps me sad from visions of you

another hour passes

the symphony is now a cacophony of syncopated chain saws driving through progress

leaving logs with lovers names scrawled in symbols of forgotten shame on the forest floor

once more

stop

i need to sleep

buzz, buzz, buzz

images take hold

past film footage strangles the vibrating death march emitted from the center of my skull

them, us, me, you, a cast of characters dangling, dancing, pounding, flashing through squinched eye lids reminding me why the noises are bearable, tolerable, escapable

the synchronization of your voice and face bring me to my feet

around echo reverberation corners i creep tossing the pillow

opening my eyes

sunrise

from my grandpa’s bed, drifting past graffiti

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

dance in deadened alleyways where street kids left their mark for us to mull over

the magnitude of a spray can stance against conformity

we direct this freedom dance

corralling creativity

explosions against normalcy

guiding

what if we let them go?

if they grazed from gardens undisturbed by our hands

trees with fruit that never makes it to a stand

enough for each who come to this land where an end is never found, though we’re all horizon bound

as the sun rises

we try to catch it

boomerang motions sustain life

tread and untread trails wait for our feet

where we’ll meet and discover what was left behind

listening to the soundtrack of humanities rewind

understanding the streaks of paint are ours, a depiction and understanding

the motion of stars

it’s not to far

follow me.

from my porch, destined to find us

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

exchanged interactions during midnight attractions centering around a common-purpose fire where we lose our eyes uncovering the lies that hinge us to this door closing slowly

we direct our attention inward and pout

it lasts only a moment

solitary stillness in a crowd

we paid our admission to mingle with like minds bobbing to a single rhythm

we glance around

voyeur tendencies alerted by sound

i drift back and recognize the collective

it disturbs my jaded perceptions bringing into focus the tentacles strumming and striking, dipping and retiring to a place where we know we’re safe

i run to feel free