relationships

from a porch, i’m a lot of things

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

i can be an asshole

power playing, guilt laying, asshole

underneath intentions i grasp for attention, working the math

this might shock most of you

you’re probably right

yet, i know my thoughts, the ones where i stand upright casting line after line into shallow waters working to pull you to shore

i didn’t say i was an asshole

i said, i can be

i can be a lot of things

i can be self-loathing, nothing stacking up to the cups everyone else seems to know how to fill

i can be charming, the right words colliding into endearment

i can be genuine, listening with truth, wrestling with vulnerability

i can be manic, organized pieces finding their home simultaneously, multi-task

i can be sad, tears

i can be shy, hiding

there’s more, dimensions, corners to peek in, both you and i

acknowledgement, a decision to embrace our totality

i can be an asshole

depends on how hard you look

from bed, bleeding eyes

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

waiting, compromised time frames

caught between preconceived scenarios of what the night should pursue, and where we want to go

they’ll play for us

whether we stand or sit

the stage is lit, previously independent

thoughts troubled, now projected

seeking an understanding

what’s first? will you open up for me?

develop another sense of how to relate to emotions displaced under false shadows cast by fluorescent lights flooding our ability to capture reality

we’re all finding a way

ripple affect today

is ripple affect tomorrow

is constant borrowing of joy to drowned sorrow in friendship glances assuring me i’m ok

we’ll wait together

waiting for them to start

our paths from there

will disappoint us

if we fail to listen

forgetting we belong

from bed, battling breaths

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

sensing the silence

we weren’t certain which way to go

uncomfortable triggers

he remembered my name, it had been a week

since we first met

a delightful stretch of the imagination as i nodded

right

i knew you when?

these first three months will be curious

then, i’ll forget phone calls and judge

after that?

expiration dates tattooed on my eyes

glazed over

you’ll learn to interrupt me

leave without warning

find a friend of a friend and move on

why she’s still here, i’ll never know

mystery, stoke the desire

i change my own voice, during daydream conversations in rooms with screens, trains of thought wrecking

rejuvenated with strangers wide eyes, those will close, taken for granted, grab a chair, remember i once loved someone who looked like you

they just nodded, even when they didn’t know the way

my questions annoyed you

then why bother?

why’d you get up?

point found

underneath

the hush of a scuttling librarians skirt

from bed, i see, and hate, him

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

distraction static pouring from mouths

too drunk, too tired, too far from the south

tread light, dinner is served

it’s saturday night, come hear the good word

paper exchange in light of day

leads to paper exchange under the grey…clouds moving and stretching thin across the sky, accidentally allowing us to see heaven; the sun

on earth, above

we’ve certainly done a number below, gas fuels flow, pushing our smoke stacks out of sight, money made on pretending you’re right

thankfully, ocean depths live alone

drones, internally combust

but, it’s saturday night

‘who needs that stuff, i have had enough’

say the pock-faced-aged-ignorant assholes who own this street, in closets with tie racks, kids need to know what to buy on dangerous holidays, right?

excuse his persona shift, blowing steam?, safe jumping from fuck-up faith cliffs, he’ll find their bed

not before letting the streets know he came, it’s his window to lean in, she sleeps on blue pills, the children’s eyes dizzy themselves to coma with rectangles and orange dust fingers

he guzzles, wanders, ‘i don’t weave, you move outta my way’, ripped yellow-shirt slobs, like him, say before his inflated eyes drive down her blouse

cleaned up in the day, presentable

kitchen table confidence

sleeping only after a drink of numb juice and arguments with his favorite facebook profile pic

it’s where he likes to stick, people with mirror faces, beach sand embraces, making all the power he has pounding sidewalks more noticeable

disgusting disgrace of a well dressed dickhead thinking he can dance because he heard these 90s tunes come from his gay brothers bedroom, the one he never calls

he’ll make it home

sleeping in his underwear, she’ll pick up his clothes in the morning

the kids think it’s his coffee needs

it’s bandages, covering where he bleeds

eyes wrapped in goose-step bandanas

a self-created world vision, leading to distracted-distorted static pouring from his mouth, into nothing

that’s being threatened

and he has resources

he’ll use

not before

another round

from a couch, i forget

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

he took his glasses off with purpose

nothing to do with sight

dramatics to determine the path of this conversation

he didn’t want to see it my way

it wasn’t really a way, a forgetting

dropping a reality draped over monsters and myths

they come out at night

cascading down stair cases, whipping open doors, flowing out on streets, there will be no peace tonight

bottles break

men scream

in the distance, chains are pounding pavement in rhythmic waves, people walking lockstep to survival

turning on you?

turning into them?

leaving this plane without a decent memory bouncing in the minds of those who remain, a stain, wore off, painted over, or cleaned up

i’m gone

he warned me, when those glasses hit the floor, that i was wrong

pushing cloud pillows aside, i happily disagree

we both know we’re right

from a chair, feeding insecurity

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

pouring poison into harmony is my specialty

your lies, building blinding emotions that leave me questioning sanity, is yours

two lives, elliptical orbits

eclipsing reality

explanations of egos, spinning existence

relying on forces proven by minds

hearts leap, at least once

you convinced me i needed more, if i didn’t believe, i’d die

sailing through the desolate space

until

i had no one

reasons to exist cease, did i exist?

an unanswerable query vacuum sealed as your insecurity feeding comments leave me breathless

i didn’t poison you, us

that apple fell long ago

i finally forgot the story

and let go

from bed, come out, come out, wherever you are

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

she hid

most of the time

shrouded by deception, trapped and entwined

i let her lure me once

hook set deep

drifted away by desires

hollow hallways, bulging eyes, dropped jaw

love cleverly disguised

tap the chamber door

three times

find the floor

nursery rhymes overheard while resting on flat pillows down the hall

pigs, princesses, that fucking weasel

i was never anyone’s sunshine

jesus didn’t want me either

she read them to you

i was snuggled in lead blankets, alone, tears streaming slowly to the creases on my face, salty, resting on my heavy heart, trapped in my heavy head, feeling my heavy everything, connections unfed

i thought i could follow her voice

echoes led me to you

you seemed content, and not quite what i was hoping for

olly olly oxen free

from bed, despite all the rage…

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

tender age

wrapped in a cage

i’m sitting in a king sized bed trapped by rage

oh, poor me

images, laying complicit, forcing myself to absorb every still-photo cycled, recycled, history’s nest incubated reminders, we need to thrash the dark parts of humanity, rip them to shreds, when babies cry “papa” in silver marathon beds

disassemble the fragments

destroy this age

no need to seek

it’s barreling down

unmasked

emotion-beat faces of those who consistently play straight, yah, the ones he calls fake, can’t help tear-drop reality, as they struggle to speak what was spoke by breaking-voices rushing in their numb right ears

“excuse me? what’s that? are you kidding me? i have to share what?”

“we’re live”

i know

living

we lost this hand, gave it away

tears stream into artificial color blends, now presentable, a tell

humanness

hurry up, deal the cards

you know what?

fuck it

have the chips, cash them in, stick it in your neighbors wife, we’re done

my poetics are failing me

anger controlling me

stacking up reasons there’s nothing i can do, we talk about the jew, after…

weak minded bosses who use diseased shit for brains thought process to take over society, ahhh, you fucks!

how many “h’s” do you use to demonstrate screaming through clenched teeth?

bowels released in my bed from pressure dread inculcating my heart, core, and head

being polite needs to end

upend

fuck you who are still calm and reasonable

cooler heads get frost bitten, left unable to make their mouths malleable enough to whisper

“stop”

drop and roll

they’re a fire, inhaling timber down mountainsides once hailing purple majesty

that’s their color now

royalty

red and blue fused, knot tied ideology, hues overtaken, mistaken, conjoined

copywriting the slogan on the back of our coin

of no value, inflated hearts pop, moral markets crash

trade in your blank stares and candy bar cares

‘cause

“this could be awhile”

from a couch, cynicism’s promise

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

cynicism is no excuse nor accident

it slowly seeped into our daily strolls down public sidewalks when we habitually asked ourselves “who belongs?”

atheists skipping over cracks, struggling to explain what’s and why’s to children not embarrassed that they’ll die with these questions, without the veil of ghost voices standing over them saying ‘because i said so’ fear flavored with fake sugar promises of gates we can’t all pass through

it’s just a phase

“they’ll” find god

gay lovers holding hands at ages younger than “they” think can understand what it means to be attracted to something you own, our procreation practice promise is superior

it’s just a phase

“they’re” just trying to shock us

black men clad in cumbersome pants hustling through frantic streets side-stepping their glance, a missed chance, averted eyes dig trenches, the ‘others’ ocular lens looking for a restaurant, that’s “worth the trip”

it’s just a phase

“we’ll” stay safe

mexican children running through fence lines, making good neighbors, how’d they get here? don’t you dare take what’s ‘ours’, scared and alone disheveled streets, scarred fields chemical laden waiting to be consumed, doing what no one wants

it’s just a phase

“we” need the help

continually asking, is this the ‘see something’ they said we should ‘say something’ about?

fear: separating migrant children from families

fear: separating mom and dad with alcohol and opioids to soften the blow of fear

fear: separating you to false god forgiveness for fear acted upon with a sneer

fear: separating you from me during sun-glow walks under orange and purple skies, seventy degrees, with a slight breeze, we could be gathering and discussing the tease ignorant assholes in alley way corners are trying to trick us with, and laugh them into the shadows with optimism’s promise, that we’re all in this

together

without fear

from a couch, pushing through

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

hair tossed aside

falling down

covering eyes, masking deceit

daily newspapers filled the beat

quickly tossed aside, recycled

redrawn

same words, different names, pictures with paragraphs stripping the game of any integrity left dripping onto bathroom floors during bowel movement rituals greeting morning

be your true self, beneath the veneer, it’s hard not to like the man with money, he enjoyed her company

he left her falling like a squeezed lemon, bitter displays, what you want to hear at the brink of devastation

never committing

sleepy soup brained middle men hopped on a choo choo train and wished away every friend they ever had, too much to relate to when minutes are split by today’s deceptive practice

wash, rinse, repeat?

admit that thinning spot is reality

expose vulnerability

move away from our dailies

into a grave

relieving concerns

we forgot how to behave