Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Nameless napwrimo #30



i’ve been wandering nameless
until the day you decided to
take a dive into the cold
oceans in my eyes. my head
lies on a pile of insecurities, praying
for the life to return to these
waters again.

i stopped listening to the stars,
started to follow the moon so
i could get so far lost that
i’d hear your breath again
one day.  i was a bottle without
a message, only holding pieces of
a 25 cent newspaper that were
kept alive on a shelf in my heart.
some parts of the past are too
strong to leave around on the
morning table.

i saw your shores and put pebbles in my
pocket, crawled through the waters and
spread my roots among the sands. i let
the ocean remain nameless as i handed
you a penny; heard that you turned wishes
into bombs and i’ve been waiting for the
loudest bang my earth has ever encountered.

Monday, April 29, 2013

some of us pray screaming napowrimo #29

i lifted my hands in prayer
because i had a dream that that
my heart hitched too far
south. some days, even the
sky has no answers.

it hailed last night;
i watched the clouds
turn black before the
sun escaped. mother
nature had come home
drunk, took her pain
out on the children. i
meditated by the window,
heard the tantrum
behind the blinds.

patience never had to understand
god, to keep the bruises
from hurting.

#28

you turned wishes into bombs.
i gave you a
penny and
hoped for
the loudest
bang my
earth had
ever
heard.

#27

some days, even
the sky
has
no answers.

Friday, April 26, 2013

silent napowrimo #26

she stands on the outskirts
of town. empty. the wind
greets her every so often.

years ago, her heart held
a 25 cent newspaper on her
coffee table; it had only
been read once
before she fell silent.

Genesis: Enlightenment napowrimo #25

some of us fear we will never
be forgiven for the sins
we dream of. so we love
like we got nothin'. write
novels in bibles filled with
insecurities because
some words struggle to be heard.

i took my psalms,
bottled them up in a hand grenade
and burried it beneath my
ribcage without the pin. we all
rely on a little love to help
ease the bruises. close your
eyes, count down with me
as i rock myself and my
mistakes. some of us
just wait for enlightenment
to reach us, i'm only
waiting on the big boom
to start a new genesis.

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

words napowrimo #24

some days,
words
struggle to
be heard.

interview napowrimo #23

you prepare like its the last
final exam you'll ever take;
drive through traffic, appear
early and sharply dressed--wall
street couldn't be sharper. answer
their questions, stay calm, relaxed,
motivated. stutter a few times,
but never let it hit your confidence.
read their faces, everyone seems
happy, good sign, the big boss
walks you into a small room
after the questions are finished,
says HR takes 4-6 weeks to give
out an answer. Go home, wait
because you've not nothin' else
to hold onto.

*updates are coming slowly, internet is currently down*

#22

When there is much work to finish, remember...

      distractions come in all sizes of action comics.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

guidance napowrimo #21


it was only a dream that fueled
the best science fiction novels,
i still look at the stars at night
for guidance, their silence
leading one to enlightenment amongst
their fog. somedays, they lead us
to new worlds like our own.

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/04/19/science/space/2-new-planets-are-most-earth-like-yet-scientists-say.html?hp&_r=1&

dreams napowrimo #20


he snores through the loud bangs and
slams of the morning, dogs
screaming for reasons we can't
understand in our slight dreamy
nature. One wonders, what he dreams about.

Friday, April 19, 2013

no sleep without love napowrimo #19



no sleep without love

we carry personal ads
around our necks—
don’t feed me, spare a
penny, help needed—
the burden of solitude,
prayers of the world.

there’s no rest without
dreams of the ecstasy
that we reach out for
when we’re desperate
enough; never realize
that sometimes we just
need to let out bones
rattle in happiness, tremble
in that freedom. we’ve been
tasting ashes for too long.

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Better make it rain



i can’t believe she peed in that
chair. she walked in the office,
braces on her arms and a look
on her face that screamed
desperation.

the woman took a seat right in front of me,
tried to sell me the lines that were
etched along her face due to high
stress and being broke, worried, no
one would hire her because she was disabled;
she praised the benefits she was receiving
through a third party. her body jittered
all up and down the edges, her hair
flying around, zip-lining across her face
as she mentioned how her life treated her
like a dog. she had lived a hard life.

i’m in the business of following
regulations, not believing regulations
are wrong, but enforcing rules that
aren’t always catered to the
desperate. i close my eyes, remember
that there’s nothing that can be done in
her case, no paperwork, no id on file. my
breaths become deeper as i gather the
strength for the words “i’m sorry,”

she said nothing, just stood up and went
to the seats where the rest of our guests wait to
find out their educational fate, and drenched the
cushion with her urine. it was at that moment
i understood why life treated her like a dog.  

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

centerfold napowrimo #17

there’ve been too many days
where i got lost in the realization
that jesus was a centerfold; left his
cross at home ‘cause he didn’t want
to scare the gentiles away.

we all have bones hidden
beneath the earth of our hearts,
create body bags of
guilt underneath our eyes
because there’s no more
skeletons, only chunks of
off-white seeds between
veins, blood and earth.

put shit on a plate and call
it a gourmet fuckin’ meal
because most of us will eat
anything when we’re hungry
for the ecstasy we’ve been missing
out for so long—that moment
of awe upon realizing that the
single greatest event was the day
you stopped, to say hello.

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

some seeds fall on the concrete napowrimo #16

i pulled weeds from my veins
to keep the empty spots from
filling up inside me. they stopped
sprouting the day i heard your voice.

i was a seed that landed on the
concrete, grasped at crevices
like the homeless takes
change; took a jackhammer
to my heart because of all the
years it’s been smoothed over.

it was not my intention to
get lost in the jitterbug of
these insecurities; these bones
that have been buried
for as long as i remembered to forget.

some days, all we do is
panic; lay our petals on
the table in hopes that
someone will connect
the dots of our troubles and
solve them like an 8th grade
math problem. light the
cigarette and taste the
ash because we lack the
ability to understand ourselves.

that’s when i realized, we were perfect. 

Monday, April 15, 2013

#15

there are those that are desperate, even on the normal days...

        ...there's a slot machine at a gas station at the statel ine, humming against the slurpie machine

Sunday, April 14, 2013

indignant napowrimo #14


she sits on the front porch watching
the rain impail the ground, bags
packed, bulging, about ready to
tear open. she waits for her son to return.

Saturday, April 13, 2013

Broken napowrimo #13


Please note that the first two lines are not mine. they are from a poem called Broken by Kirasuna. It can be found here:

http://kirasuna.tumblr.com/post/47858855835/kirasuna

i cry
i try
but she does not work,
does not give the warmth
that i need. it is
unfortunate that we must
part on terms like this,
stealing my popcorn uncooked
because she grew  cold. i
try to understand her pain as i
open her doors and throw away
my bag. i can't believe i
need a new microwave, but
she is broken.


Work NaPoWriMo #12


she picked up a work from home scam-
     advertisement she saw through email
made a few dollars but never enough
    to make  adifference.
she sat at her computer, staring at
     her previous employers website, cigarette
     in her hand, niccotine soothing her veins.
she never wanted to go back.

supposed to be naporwimo #11


i'm supposed to be writing a poem today,
but i'm too focused on reading about
the shadowy knights son, the demon
turned hero to be murdered a few
issues later. my hands grab at smooth
paper as i flip between pages, not
even noticiting the advertisements
that appear in mid-story. move
through a few more issues along
the story-line, different series
mourning the same character, finish
the final book and hope i didn't see
carrie kelly on next months cover.

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

seeds napowrimo #10


some seeds fall on the concrete.
spread roots through
the cracks, become weeds
even on the normal days.

i pulled the weeds from
my veins one day, watched
them sprout again the
next, the green hands
running along my skin.

i never realized the concrete
around my heart had never been
cracked so I took a jackhammer
to my chest, watched the rocks
jitterbug in the air as
i slowly got to the roots,
had to feel the pain for
i had been numb for too many
years. but not everyone
gives a fuck about the bones
we carry inside.



Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Petals napowrimo #9 4-9-2013

her petals lay against the table,
disconnected like the
stars she stares at through
the window. she removed
her stem to become whole
again, cleansing herself
of the thorns she's
carried for too many
years. patience,
never had to know god
to keep her bruises from
hurting.

Monday, April 8, 2013

memory 4-8-2013



i put my car in reverse,
rolled it back smoothly
across the grass 'cause
the driveway was full of
tires it ain't seen before.
windows murky from the
dew, i stopped before
switching to drive, there
was a man there. staring,
eyes stern, angered,
fixated at the realm he
had left behind.

she idled there, humming
at the silence of
the mourning. his breath
mumbled of late nights
and false love, tough
drinks and hard-work
days, but a tyrant
cannot miss the world
he failed to control.

Sunday, April 7, 2013

tired (4-7-2013) napowrimo #7


tired. he stretches his eyes,
fumbling,
tumbling
through the phone call, each
word jamming against the
tastebuds of his tongue. he
closes one eye for relief and
says to himself, "only an hour, til we close.

Saturday, April 6, 2013

waiting napowrimo #6 (4-6-2013)


he stares at the stars, his prayer wafting through them.

he is waiting for something to hear it.

striving, meditating,

patience minimal

for we are unable to understand ourselves.

Friday, April 5, 2013

salad (4-5-2013) NaPoWriMo #5


the office was silent, he slowly
tore off the
sticker holding
tight the lid, sound
of it peeling echoed
in the stillness of a general afternoon.

hungry. he opens the plastic container,
clanking the fork against
his desk accidentally,
nearing the bowl only
to find disappointment
as a fly trickled from the container.

he leaned back, looking at the stained
cealing, stomach
crying, mind weak,
he muttered a few
words, "a muthafuckin'
fly flew out of my muthafuckin' salad."

Thursday, April 4, 2013

balances (4-4-2013)

her petals lay against
a stack of final notices-
large balances romancing
the stress of their servant.

there's a prayer out there,
mingling with the clouds
until something hears it.
someone believes they have
broken the encryption for why
evil hangs around, though
we don't have the ability
to understand ourselves.

so we wait for the ink
on those pages to
wash away because
paper can hold so much
more than a past due balance.

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

college library (4-3-2013)

last minute tweaks on
papers due in ten minutes;
smell of coffee, niccotine
and energy drinks fizzle
around the computers as
the stress drips from
their bodies like
sweat from gym class.

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Elevators (4-2-2013)



slink to the far
back, hands gripping
at the steel bars as
the doors close. she
vibrates violently, lights
flickering. she’s got bad wiring.

there is a moment
of stillness—that
moment reached
in nirvana after being
at peace with oneself—
before her doors open
to allow her captives
freedom.

left empty, she waits
for another to return.

Monday, April 1, 2013

Size of a Fuckin' Knuckle


She walked in the office, gold ring on
her finger shining against the sun
from the window. The ring was real,
diamond the size of her fuckin' knuckle.
It was strange, never fit who she was. 

There were wars in her wrinkles; ashes
on her glasses from years of livin'
in a nicotine addiction. The PhD was
only a few steps away; she's worked years
to achieve this much in life as her history
poured from her chest and away from her lips.

Her eyes carried so much water that
plants could make a home there; spread
their roots through her veins and count
the days she's got left before her body
gives out.

I'm watchin' her mouth move, gettin' faster and faster,
and I know she's about to break down; about
to curse the ages of waitress jobs and shitty
bar tips just to feed her children and a man
that can barely look at anything other than her
ragged figure. She couldn't suck the shaft of her
Master's degree much longer, and she was crawling
her way to the final cliff before descending into
the end of a failed educational career.

I understand where you're comin' from lady; understand
that there are just some days you gotta hold
the last penny in your pocket because you don't
have much else. Short change and cut corners because
there's a bill collector around the corner waiting
for your next paycheck like a fuck-up boyfriend needing
bail money.

More often we make a bad choice that forces
us to grab at the Manna from the sky-desperate
to make it through to the next month. I look at her,
realize that we're both in the same world. We're both
just surviving on what we borrowed, living on
what the bank allows us on an overdraft. Praying, though
we know there's only the representative on the phone to
hear our sins. We're not so different. And I tell her
much like I've been told in the same way, because I'm
not in a position to help, only to inform,
"I'm sorry, but there's nothing else we can do."