murdock22

Some interesting stuff here but don't know where its going, comment away...

Sometimes it feels like my life is an endless litany of a little too lates
Don't start things early enough
Don't realize feelings soon enough
Feel the horrendous pull of the heart of things that should have been
but didn't happen
I'm staring down the barrel of 30 and wondering what I have done with my life
(God that sounds cliche)
I realize this is not an original idea
I realize there a likely a couple people out there who would probably slap me for even saying it out loud
But there are any number of people in my circle of friends who feel the same way
That pang of knowing we can do better than this
We are better than this
But every try feels like climbing on table whose fourth leg keeps giving way
Yet we climb back up on it again nonetheless
I swear if I ever make it past that chandelier hanging from the ceiling
I'm sending a rope down for the rest of you
Even knowing not all of you would do the same
I'm too nice and sometimes I think that may be my problem
I will pull you up nonetheless
Even if some of your toes have become stuck to the floor
I've got paint thinner, a box cutter and some garden shears for every stubborn child
I have parts of my heart that should of closed long ago
Still open and bleeding for lovers who are just now realizing what they missed out on
I realize how dangerous this has made me
There are promises I know I cannot keep but make anyway
I still can't convince myself that these are lies
There are people whose souls I would cling to my chest to keep warm
If I didn't have a tendency to break things so easily
I have become really good at succeeding at finding out what doesn't work
I wish I could tell you that that line is original
But it comes from a place in my brain I've been having more and more trouble keeping track of
Fro every new thing I learn I forget three old things
I wish I could say that this too, was not some sort of unrequited love poem
They all become one eventually
Because I am sitting here wondering whether the next time I see your smile
It will make me happy or remind me of all the things I have failed at
I know that isn't fair to you
I have no idea how to end this poem
Something to tie it all together into a neat little package
But I'm not good at letting things go
It has become to cold here and I need to leave
I can only hope this is one more step towards things being better

Snarky, snarky snark, and also incomplete...

I saw you last night
That is to say I've seen you several times
I already know what you look like
Already know what your poems sound like
You t-shirt and blond dye job girlfriend in the fuck-me pumps gives you away
Sleeves a little too far up because you want people to see the "guns"
We have never met
And I can already feel my eardrums starting to close
Trying way too hard to look thug
But they don't make thugs in your part of Jersey, or Long Island
Or wherever it is you are from
I have seen at least five guys exactly like you at the bar on my weekends
They just all write poems
And claim neighborhoods they have only visited on the train
The buck, buck cannot come from gentrified lips

We who are to nice
worry too much
know too well what regret feels like when it hits us in the chest
the body does not lie
it betrays us
this feeling
could not possibly be love
I am not a normal man
and we do not love like this
want to believe it is stronger than this
which is probably why it hurts so much
because if this isn't it then what is?
does it exist?
does it mean mine was a lie?
only wanted something uncomplicated...

(after Start's Poem challenge,I think I forced it, I know I can do better...)

My mouth is ready for any situation it might encounter
Insert oral sex joke here
But by that I mean I always have something to say
I'm the best there is at what I do
And what I do
Is very awkward
Just give me an opening and I stick my foot in it
Wait-a-minute...
What did I just say?
See this is exactly what I'm talking about
Give me a sentence and I will stumble over it
Put a beautiful woman in front of me and watch me babble
Like an idiot
But I'm flexible, and I don't mean physically
A lot of people seem to have a problem with it
This bouncing from one state of being to another
I am a chameleon
Adaptable
Different person for different groups of people
Maybe this is why I appear awkward
Never settling for one definition of self
Human beings, as a whole, I think, have problems with duality
Maybe its why by-partisan politics is so difficult
I guess our evolution is slow
Maybe my split skull split personalities
I am malleable now
So if I speak out of turn
Sound funny sometimes
Seem awkward
Maybe creepy
Not to worry
Sometimes
I'm just one giant walking oral fixation

(for Ainsley and Desi)

It is hard for me to watch this
Sad, even as part of me is secretly glad
Wondering how far you let this go
A voice saying no
This must not happen
Boy, we're nice guys
this is what we do
the defense mechanism
overcompensate,
try to act as if nothing has happened
I know you and I are cut from the same cloth
who else would work so hard to keep something so beautiful
and even as part of me feels the pull of why not me
please, don't fail
for as much as I want what you already have
I want you to succeed just a little more
because it gives me hope that some day I might succeed too
but the only thing you can ever plan for is that nothing ever goes according to plan
it sounds like a cliche I know
Girl, when the sight of your tears rips at my heartstrings
and I let the words "I love you" slip from my lips
understand I do not mean them in the same way he does
I only mean I understand your exasperation
just as much as I can feel his desperation not to lose you
you never
need to apologize
for this
cry
couples fight
only people who love each other as much as you do could do so, so hard
like every eye twitch
means the world falling apart
even hatred is an expression of passion
this too, is love
even as every bone in your body sometimes screams leave
stay
Even if this is just my selfish self
believing hopeless romanticism is not so hopeless
part of me, terrified to write this
but sometimes the thing that scares you most is what you most need to say
I know, laying this on you may be unfair
we will be friends, no matter what happens
but I figured
you might want to know

(P.S. I also think I accidentally aped Jon Sands a little on this, oops)

(these are oddly connected)
"I'm having a weird vagina day"
"It's like an oasis of pink in an abyss of vomit-colored despair"
"I want a reindeer made of dildos!"
"Pour me a drink like you hate me"
"Cacti hurt, especially when you step on them with your butt"
"I'm giving your carpet The Syphilis right now"
"You looked like you were on the verge of a skank"
"You're too hot to be a rapist"
"Can I lick you dude?"

(This desperately needs a re-write in my mind, any comments would be appreciated)

This is the sound of desperation
This is how you cling to hope
Unable to accept futility
Get used to the words "but, though, however, unless, possibly, nonetheless, and of course maybe"
Maybe, this could happen
This representation of our environmental hope
Ivory-billed Woodpecker
Ghost Bird
No one has seen one since 1944
A couple thousand bird-watchers flock to Arkansas, Florida, wilderness reserves, hoping
A litany of unconfirmed sightings
The most recent in 2005
This is the real-life Bigfoot
A bird thought extinct
Hope, thought extinct
The aftereffect of unchecked logging
An archive of stuffed specimens
This is so much more than just a bird
This is the holy-grail of bird-watching
This is the hope that our untouched wild past can be revived
That extermination of beauty is not permanent
This is our alter
The birder world splits into Believers and Skeptics
Then further into True Believers, Agnostics, Atheists
This is the religion
Lord God Bird
You carry the hopes of every person unable to let go
On your wingtips
Hoping, they will not be let down again

(After Caitlin Meissner's Williamsburg on the First Day Mimicking Summer)
This will most likely eventually become two separate poems but...

On the long walk to my sister's apartment
you get that squeezing feeling in your chest of not fitting in
in a place where sweatpants stick out like a sore thumb
where irony is a fashion accessory
I am coming to terms with my intense desire to slap someone
Hard. In the face.

In these moments
it is comforting to know someone else out there
is thinking similar thoughts
then I get that creepy and unsettling feeling someone else is in my head
I want to warn them not to be intimidated, or scared
to mind the sign that says:
"Do Not Feed the Wiley Thoughts"
they will creep up through your toes
envelope your body
the spiky vines pulling you down
most people who climb in here
never make it back out

Drowned life (after a Gregory Crewdson photo)

I was suburban sprawl today
Climbed down the stairs this morning
Slid out of my slippers
Lay down on the carpet
Let the life drain out of my lungs
And let go
Floated to the top of the water with all the detritus
This imagined water might as well have been my blood
If I had been brave enough to learn how to cut clean
It would have been

Love is me (after Gloria)

Standing on the shore
I am a teenager
Love is the first wave coming in
Stopping just long enough to kiss the sand and my toes
Before it rolls out again
It picks up strength
Rolls in, smacks at my knees and then rolls back again
When it comes again
It hits my waist, shakes me foundation
It rolls out leaving me just trying to catch my balance again
When it comes again
It smacks into my chest
Knocks my heart all the way back into my spine
Leaves me panting and consumed
Magnificent
Spread out on the sand
When the last wave comes
I will be waiting here
For it to take me out to sea with it

First really good day of spring
This is the session
These are the thoughts
Needing something beautiful
She left the world this morning
It was quiet and peaceful
Mya attempted to clean up after she spilled the oats
Too worn out to argue with the guy who is screaming at us
Because we are skating on his "property"
It was obviously bought recently enough that's its purchase
Probably somehow coincided with the property values post-9/11
This is, after all, the financial district
There's probably a whole poem here I'm not ready to write yet
It's 9:30pm and it smells like gasoline
My body is starting to give out on me
Going through Times Square now
Thinking God, get me the frack out of here
"I'm slapping the bass"
To the four people who get this reference
Thank you
I text it to some friends
We are the Tenacious D of poetry
Anyone who associates too much with these lines really need to get out more
My cuticles have begun to crack
The black rail stripe on my tee means this one is going in the rag pile when I get home
Waiting for the train home now
People respond to my texts
It is a single good laugh for a co-worker having a tough night
The thought of her smiling makes me smile
It's 11pm now
It's been a much-needed good day

And it never stops
Life. Keeps. Going.
There isn't enough time to feel this
Because there's work to do
Because you need to keep busy
Because the phone won't stop ringing
There is no pause to breathe yet
And these people wouldn't care either way
As least you got to say goodbye, again
Because no one wants to see tears
Because you can't tolerate other people's childish bullshit today
Haven't given myself time to breathe
Haven't allowed myself to feel it yet
Probably won't for a couple of days
When the apartment seems emptier
When you have to remove the litter box
Thinking of keeping her bed
Maybe a couple of the hand-knitted mice
And that last picture on my phone
Have to stop every once in a while
Take a deep breath
Let it out
Allow a couple tears to fall
Take another breath
Thankful I made the decision before going to work
Thankful for the rest of the night I will have with her
Hold her one more time
Take a few moments to write a poem about it
Hope it makes things easier
Wonder how I will deal with it tomorrow when I actually go through with it
Thankful I will have all day tomorrow to deal with it
That it will be a nice day
Take another breath
Humor co-workers
This is dealing with it
Take another breath
Go home
Take another breath
Finish the poem
Life. Keeps. Going...

(for my cat Kelly, who is rapidly fading and will most likely be put to sleep tomorrow Sat.
Love you shmoo...)

Only a matter of time now
steeled ourselves
having conversations of what to do with the body
she is old and tired
barely eats
trying to make her as comfortable as possible
maybe a week or so at best
trying to rationalize reasons
hope you are making the right decision
starting to feel the pang
the pull on your heart strings
soon, you will be ready
you think she already may be
only a matter of time
we are letting her
go...

(for Kate)

she creeps along
the slow walk telegraphing each strand the past week has pulled out of her
every week it seems is a another piece hacked away
life repeatedly kicking her in the stomach
you just want to grab hold of her and hug her tight
try and squeeze the pain and stress right out of her
dressed in black like she is at a perpetual funeral
she looks so tired
stress from her day job as a law clerk
could desperately  use a good night's sleep
like three days worth
it's a wonder she has not cracked yet
occasionally, you can almost see the break coming
see her look off into space
like something just sucked the brain right out of her head
and on top of that
she has to deal with these arrogant assholes who come to her in the restaurant
and all these creepy middle-aged men
who see that crumbled look and mistake it for weakness
as if t it cries victim
and they are like starved wolves chasing a wounded dear
these are the times you are in awe of her strength
and you're not sure she is even aware of it sometimes
that kind of everyday bravery that is so often overlooked
because they've become habituated to it
they don't realize that sometimes
just being able to stand there and take it without falling
is an act of strength and beauty
they will never understand

This is for the youth
Whose boundaries have not yet become hardened walls
Vulnerability laid raw on stage
And coupled with the fact that you are even more self-conscious at that age
it almost seems an oxymoron
Some of you have not built the litany of scars as you skin
some of you, ten years my junior, already have more than I will ever have
I can't even conceive of how you are capable
Make me regret not starting this spoken word thing earlier
Find myself saying weird things like:
"Someday I hope I grow up and write like that"
And i am jealous
And amazed
And feel my heart explode in my chest in a way I rarely do
I am in awe
Once, at the Philly Youth Slam
I signed up for for the open mic
Then watched as people half my age slammed me out of existence
So this is for you
The youth
So you will know without question
What you do has value beyond this stage
You are hop, personified

I've been having dreams about you again lately
I'm starting to get a little concerned at the way you keep invading my subconscious
Especially considering the fact I have deliberately pushed you out so many times
Crush, I'm going to have to put you way over there
Back in the cheap seats
In a cave somewhere in the Appalachians
There is way too much other shit for me to be concerned with right now
What are you trying to do to me?
In that red dress
In knee socks
In a beat-up Superman t-shirt and sweatpants
Don't you understand that's every nerd's secret morning-after fantasy?
Don't you have a boyfriend?
Shouldn't you by now?
Quit smiling at me
Stop doing all those cute things
You know the stuff
Don't pretend you don't know!
I know I'm sweet, funny, and even cute in an awkward, nerdy sort of way
Stop flirting with me!
Stop living up to high standards
Proving me right for crushing on you
Stop being everything I secretly imagined and hoped you would be
I had already convinced myself i was over you
And yet here you are again
In my heart
Don't you know that I come in at a slow creep?
That once I'm in, you won't be able to to get me out
I'll climb up inside your heart and burrow in
Permeating your pores
Flowing through your bloodstream
You'll need to scrape me out with a rusty spoon
Or a restraining order
Whichever comes first
Because this crush, is crushing me
So, just stop
Because I can't take
Being disappointed again

I have always been a late bloomer
It started with Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Admittedly, I didn't get into it until late in the 2nd season
All it took was a couple episodes
The third season
Their senior year of high school was also mine
Apparently the point was make every teenager in your teenage life
And personify it as some sort monster
Me, I discovered that I was Alexander Harris
In a lot of ways, I still am
I find the longer I live
The more I begin to talk exactly like a Joss Whedon character
By the fifth season, there was no turning back
I was hooked for life
I missed assignments in college, fell back on reading
Because nothing was going to interrupt my Buffy fix
Oh Joss, did you know then?
While everyone became obsessed with SMG
I was more of a Willow fan
The nerd girl, oh God, even after she became a lesbian
And Faith
Oh dear Faith...
...
Where was I?
Oh. Yes.
The 6th season
I mean aside from the musical episode
and oh dear Lord Willow going all Goth and hot
I started to slip then
Watching Angel
Letting myself miss episodes
And then they ended
i watched episodes in syndication to get a fix
And then came Firefly
Okay...full disclosure
I was late bloomer there to
Did not get into it until after it was canceled
It took episodes in syndication before the movie came out
And then the movie
And I loved you again
Then your run on Astonishing X-Men
Then the coup de grace
Season 8 of Buffy
In comic book form
Guh...
Then Dr.Horrible, an obsession that has no end
And now Dollhouse
Starring Duckshoot
Joss, what are you trying to do to me?
You must know by now
I am now part of the cult
Forced to utter the words
Joss Whedon
Is my master now

I am not at all happy with this yet but meh...

My name is Franklin Nelson
My friends call me Foggy
I am a lawyer with the law offices of Nelson and Murdock
That's right, my name comes first
I have a secret
It concerns my law partner
Matthew Murdock
I have known Matt since we were both in college
Matt is blind
Some accident that happened when he was a child
Matt also lost his father at around the same time
I can't imagine what growing up must have been like for him
We have been friends for a long time
But sometimes
Okay, a lot
I find myself so terrified just being part of his life
That it becomes hard to even breathe
See, Matt, and I guess there's no nice way to say this...
Matt is crazy
He does these things
These incredible things that I cannot begin to even understand
See, Matt is a superhero
You'll excuse the expression
I keep wondering what it will take for him stop what he is doing
How many people have to suffer?
How many people have to die?
I mean he lost two of the loves of his life to the same guy
He had a nervous breakdown for Christ's sake
Will I have to die?
I don't like to think about it
Then there is part of me that hopes he never stops
That admits he sometimes even inspires me
That the world needs people like Matt
People with such indomitable willSuch an unstoppable compulsion to do the right thing
To inspire us all to be better

For Matthew B

His body language choreographed tenseness
The creeping feeling of not fitting in
Have not come to terms with strangeness
Not sure what to do when he no longer has anything to contribute to the interaction
The alcohol dampening self-consciousness until he drinks himself right out of the conversation
Never seem to make it past small talk
Says he will be right back and then doesn't return
I find myself at a loss of how to help
Feel if I tried he might find it insulting
As if he needs help
He becomes awkward
Approaching weird
Even creepy
I am sure his physical presence only adds to this
I want to say I understand
That I know this feeling all too well
I want to tell him to embrace this feeling
These are poets you are around
These are my friends
We're all awkward
We're all damaged goods
All fucked up and weird
The only difference between us is we have an outlet
A talent
This is what we share
What bonds us to each other
Don't be afraid to be vulnerable
Just push against the wall
Smack your head into it even if you feel the brick begin to split your skin
Do not try to leap over this stage
Yes, it will be painful
Yes, you may even bleed
Pour it on the page
Let alcohol go
It's only a crutch you have been clinging to
Make your awkward charming
The thing that makes the girls giggle
Make it your swagger
Like I'm awkward and motherfucker what?!?
Feel your shoulders ease
Push out that little voice that tells you to run away
You don't need it anymore
Command, the awkward

4/9

 

Captain Self-Important

 

My father has a saying:

There is no activity so minor, so unimportant; it does not require your full attention

I am reminded of this as Captain Self-Important comes to order take-out

Mr. This activity of or ordering a burrito does not require my full attention

Mr. I will not get off my cellphone to do this

I will not interrupt my so-important conversation to acknowledge that you to, are a human being

With a job to do

Who does not want to get your order wrong

Because you look like the type who will bitch about it later

Even though you are not speaking to me clearly

Just rattling off your order expecting me to fill in the blanks

You are someone who is used to someone filling in blanks for you

To someone doing everything for you

I tell you we are out of brown rice

You are not listening

I try to tell you again

You become annoyed, condescend to me, and repeat your order

I resist the urge to be snippy

You do not listen to the wait time I quote to you

Go outside, come back five minutes later and ask if it is ready yet

You then walk right past the five people quite obviously waiting for the bathroom as if they aren’t there

Become irritated that it is locked, that there is a line

Chastise me about us only having one bathroom as if I have some sort of control over this sort of thing

I try to calm the shaking sensation in my hand

If I was not working

And required to be polite to you

We would by now be in an argument

About your lack of common courtesy

10 minutes later, a co-worker hands you your food

You pay; leave four pennies and a nickel in the tip cup

Somehow, I would rather you left nothing

2 hours later, you call to complain that your order is wrong

By then, I don’t care

Pass the phone to the manager

Hope in vain that you will never come back

Or that I will see 3 more customers today

Who will be exactly like you