2023 Poem-A-Week Challenge (Poems Only Thread)
- Thread starter The Poets
- Start date
goddessofglee
a gentle girly girl!
- Joined
- Jan 24, 2023
- Posts
- 208
№43
Is my Life a Joke?
(The Joke?)
Or maybe (Cosmic Joker)
or something more?...
My life is a joke, a cosmic prank,
A punchline that does not land.
My story is a joke, in its every word,
My every action, a pratfall absurd.
A cruel twist of fate, a sickly wink.
Every sign is a waiting trap, yet never do I sink.
But I will not give up, nor will I give in!
I won't let this joke, make me sink, as I swim!
My thong is a joke,
"What's up?" That's a joke too
Roundabout, ad-hoc,
Pac-a-mac, in my bag
stride in the rain,
joke on the chain!
Living in a tropical paradise,
But all I see is the salty brine.
All for me, I can't get to sea,
It's a joke, a mirage on the breeze!
The salty surf is a cruel tease,
A reminder of all that I can't be.
But I won't give up, I won't give in
I'll keep going on, as I swim...
until I start to sink
I don't know what to do, I'm fearing that I will crack,
I feel like I'm trapped on a never-ending track.
I just want to laugh, but I can't even smile,
My life is still a joke, and it needs to rest awhile.
But maybe one day, things will change,
Maybe one day, I'll find my way strange.
But 'til then, I'll just keep trying,
Even though it's a joke, they'll never see me crying.
I'm going to rise and going to win and make my life my joke,
I will make it the way I choose, my brand, my story, no smoke.
I'm going to laugh at myself,
and see the world laugh with me,
And I will surely show them all, I'm not afraid to swim at sea."
Is my Life a Joke?
(The Joke?)
Or maybe (Cosmic Joker)
or something more?...
My life is a joke, a cosmic prank,
A punchline that does not land.
My story is a joke, in its every word,
My every action, a pratfall absurd.
A cruel twist of fate, a sickly wink.
Every sign is a waiting trap, yet never do I sink.
But I will not give up, nor will I give in!
I won't let this joke, make me sink, as I swim!
My thong is a joke,
"What's up?" That's a joke too
Roundabout, ad-hoc,
Pac-a-mac, in my bag
stride in the rain,
joke on the chain!
Living in a tropical paradise,
But all I see is the salty brine.
All for me, I can't get to sea,
It's a joke, a mirage on the breeze!
The salty surf is a cruel tease,
A reminder of all that I can't be.
But I won't give up, I won't give in
I'll keep going on, as I swim...
until I start to sink
I don't know what to do, I'm fearing that I will crack,
I feel like I'm trapped on a never-ending track.
I just want to laugh, but I can't even smile,
My life is still a joke, and it needs to rest awhile.
But maybe one day, things will change,
Maybe one day, I'll find my way strange.
But 'til then, I'll just keep trying,
Even though it's a joke, they'll never see me crying.
I'm going to rise and going to win and make my life my joke,
I will make it the way I choose, my brand, my story, no smoke.
I'm going to laugh at myself,
and see the world laugh with me,
And I will surely show them all, I'm not afraid to swim at sea."
Ambient4190
Really Experienced
- Joined
- May 4, 2021
- Posts
- 256
hey love
ai cgi art
artists concept digital
designed desire
no need to let someone
take your picture
alcohol people drugs
masquerades
truths hidden
secret appetites
no need to let someone
take your picture
ai cgi art
artists concept digital
designed desire
no need to let someone
take your picture
alcohol people drugs
masquerades
truths hidden
secret appetites
no need to let someone
take your picture
Angeline
Poet Chick
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2002
- Posts
- 27,245
Down the Line
Do you wonder
where sound goes
when it bounces off keys
or floats from breath
to air?
Does it weave like fog
through empty trees,
leaving wraiths of song
for birds to consider
or does it hang words
on one lonesome branch
as if nobody cares
but the breeze, nobody sees
but the waning moon?
Might be sound goes flat
by the side of a road
like a broke down bus
with a tore up wheel.
Here's a squatty fellow,
bent low by the flat,
hands on his knees
and a scowl on his face.
Might be he's the very angel
who drove you straight
to heaven last night,
corny blue flower fields, bright
gold shine when he blew a tone
that ran right through you,
made you bounce and jive,
dance in the dark
with your head thrown back,
but that was 64 miles back Jack,
64 miles back.
Week 36, Poem 1, Total 43
Do you wonder
where sound goes
when it bounces off keys
or floats from breath
to air?
Does it weave like fog
through empty trees,
leaving wraiths of song
for birds to consider
or does it hang words
on one lonesome branch
as if nobody cares
but the breeze, nobody sees
but the waning moon?
Might be sound goes flat
by the side of a road
like a broke down bus
with a tore up wheel.
Here's a squatty fellow,
bent low by the flat,
hands on his knees
and a scowl on his face.
Might be he's the very angel
who drove you straight
to heaven last night,
corny blue flower fields, bright
gold shine when he blew a tone
that ran right through you,
made you bounce and jive,
dance in the dark
with your head thrown back,
but that was 64 miles back Jack,
64 miles back.
Week 36, Poem 1, Total 43
Wonderer67
Optimistic nihilist
- Joined
- Sep 25, 2020
- Posts
- 12,255
The Almighty
Motherfuckin dollar
Killed this place
Once soulful and fun
Now a maze of concrete and steel
Austin, you managed to shoot
Yourself in the foot
Memories of driving
Down from Fort Hood
Thru Killeen to be exact
Drinking and dancing
And trying to pick up girls
Carousing
Soldiers
Young and dumb
But times have changed
Gentrification is the enemy now
Tech companies
Developers
Lawyers
The ruination of all things good
I wonder whatever happened
To the “keep Austin weird” campaign
Austin…
Fuck your hordes
Of hip zombie
Investors
Hedge fund motherfuckers
Tech managers
Bachelorettes
And conference goers
I hold them in the same esteem
As politicians
We left after just one night
Wasn’t the same as it used to was
We did find the White Horse
A fun joint
Got drunk and danced up a storm
But Austin…
Now your just a
Chain bar and chain restaurant
Kinda place
I guess you can’t zone weird
38/52
Motherfuckin dollar
Killed this place
Once soulful and fun
Now a maze of concrete and steel
Austin, you managed to shoot
Yourself in the foot
Memories of driving
Down from Fort Hood
Thru Killeen to be exact
Drinking and dancing
And trying to pick up girls
Carousing
Soldiers
Young and dumb
But times have changed
Gentrification is the enemy now
Tech companies
Developers
Lawyers
The ruination of all things good
I wonder whatever happened
To the “keep Austin weird” campaign
Austin…
Fuck your hordes
Of hip zombie
Investors
Hedge fund motherfuckers
Tech managers
Bachelorettes
And conference goers
I hold them in the same esteem
As politicians
We left after just one night
Wasn’t the same as it used to was
We did find the White Horse
A fun joint
Got drunk and danced up a storm
But Austin…
Now your just a
Chain bar and chain restaurant
Kinda place
I guess you can’t zone weird
38/52
Wonderer67
Optimistic nihilist
- Joined
- Sep 25, 2020
- Posts
- 12,255
Phoenix to Austin
This already has the sound
Of a country and western tune
Two days of driving
Not one fuckin interstate
1100 miles
Two lane roads
The middle of nowhere
Topping off at each gas station
We listened to Outlaw Country
Mojo Nixon spinnin’ the platters
“I looooooove, country!”
Old rusty cars and trucks for lawn ornaments
Blue skies and scorching sun
Deserts end and a winding mountain pass begins
Then high plains
Cafes for lunch
Cowboy bars for dinner
Rebecca was nervous
But it was fun - everyone was welcoming
Learning about jersey
It’s not new anymore, I’d tell them
Laughter, some smirks
Beer and burgers
Vernon AZ
Roswell NM
Texas Hill country
Pickup trucks all over
Luckenbach TX
Population 3
39/52
This already has the sound
Of a country and western tune
Two days of driving
Not one fuckin interstate
1100 miles
Two lane roads
The middle of nowhere
Topping off at each gas station
We listened to Outlaw Country
Mojo Nixon spinnin’ the platters
“I looooooove, country!”
Old rusty cars and trucks for lawn ornaments
Blue skies and scorching sun
Deserts end and a winding mountain pass begins
Then high plains
Cafes for lunch
Cowboy bars for dinner
Rebecca was nervous
But it was fun - everyone was welcoming
Learning about jersey
It’s not new anymore, I’d tell them
Laughter, some smirks
Beer and burgers
Vernon AZ
Roswell NM
Texas Hill country
Pickup trucks all over
Luckenbach TX
Population 3
39/52
Last edited:
Wonderer67
Optimistic nihilist
- Joined
- Sep 25, 2020
- Posts
- 12,255
106º is still 106º
Phoenix
And all of those shitty suburbs
Are subdivisions
Subdivisions of subdivisions
Developments and development
Suburban sprawl
Heat on concrete
Even more heat on asphalt
A convection oven
Everything in shades of tan
Reminded me of the sandbox:
Iraq and Saudi
Except for the McMansions
And the fuckin strip malls
Chain restaurants
Not one hint of soul
Outside of town, brown hills
Saguaro cactus
The only green you’ll really see
Hot as balls
I like it hot
But I don’t buy that
“Dry heat” argument
106º is still 106º
40/52
Phoenix
And all of those shitty suburbs
Are subdivisions
Subdivisions of subdivisions
Developments and development
Suburban sprawl
Heat on concrete
Even more heat on asphalt
A convection oven
Everything in shades of tan
Reminded me of the sandbox:
Iraq and Saudi
Except for the McMansions
And the fuckin strip malls
Chain restaurants
Not one hint of soul
Outside of town, brown hills
Saguaro cactus
The only green you’ll really see
Hot as balls
I like it hot
But I don’t buy that
“Dry heat” argument
106º is still 106º
40/52
Last edited:
Wonderer67
Optimistic nihilist
- Joined
- Sep 25, 2020
- Posts
- 12,255
The Mogollon Rim
Up past Payson, AZ
Eastbound on route 260
It was very different country
Hardly any tan
But then scrub brush
Small trees
Light green and sage to start
Darker green the further north we got
Climbing the rim - much cooler thank god
Red barked Ponderosa Pine forests
I felt normal finally
Up on the rim
Windier, literally twenty five degrees cooler
Than the desert
Looking down off the ledge
Admiring the view from the top
Thinking a million thoughts at once
But also right in that moment
Caught up in how stunning it was
And how beautiful it is to be alive sometimes
My thoughts shifted
Thinking about how radically different
It was from the desert
Astounded by how 60 miles and 5000 feet of elevation
Made such a difference
I felt like I saw 1000 different
Shades of green
As I scanned the beauty of the rim
And felt whole
41/52
Up past Payson, AZ
Eastbound on route 260
It was very different country
Hardly any tan
But then scrub brush
Small trees
Light green and sage to start
Darker green the further north we got
Climbing the rim - much cooler thank god
Red barked Ponderosa Pine forests
I felt normal finally
Up on the rim
Windier, literally twenty five degrees cooler
Than the desert
Looking down off the ledge
Admiring the view from the top
Thinking a million thoughts at once
But also right in that moment
Caught up in how stunning it was
And how beautiful it is to be alive sometimes
My thoughts shifted
Thinking about how radically different
It was from the desert
Astounded by how 60 miles and 5000 feet of elevation
Made such a difference
I felt like I saw 1000 different
Shades of green
As I scanned the beauty of the rim
And felt whole
41/52
Last edited:
Angeline
Poet Chick
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2002
- Posts
- 27,245
Three Autumn Tankas
I.
An October moon
full, silver and luminous
shines in both our skies,
a prescient messenger
inviting us to the dance
II.
On a clear, crisp night
where leaves shiver, make merry,
Artemis shoots twice
and we are fallen in love,
struck by moonlight and music
III.
In the chill morning
a fox and her kits seek food;
we watch from the deck
and hungry for each other
seek sustenance in our bed
Week 37, Poems 1-3, Total 46
I.
An October moon
full, silver and luminous
shines in both our skies,
a prescient messenger
inviting us to the dance
II.
On a clear, crisp night
where leaves shiver, make merry,
Artemis shoots twice
and we are fallen in love,
struck by moonlight and music
III.
In the chill morning
a fox and her kits seek food;
we watch from the deck
and hungry for each other
seek sustenance in our bed
Week 37, Poems 1-3, Total 46
Wonderer67
Optimistic nihilist
- Joined
- Sep 25, 2020
- Posts
- 12,255
Sweet Things
On road trips
I want a real family owned cafe or bar
Always on the lookout for good local food
We found it
No shit – the place was called the Tumbleweed Café in Magdalena, NM
You almost couldn’t make it up
“What’ll you sweet things like to drink?”
The waitress, maybe in her early 50s
A hard looking woman
Graying, straight hair
Nice body, but missing a tooth
She rattled off 10-12 drink options
Rebecca got a lemonade and I got coffee
Black
“Here ya go, sweet things.” Our waitress said as she brought us our drinks
“Sweet things need more time for your order?”
Our waitress called us “sweet things”
Each time she came around
A lovely and loving endearment
Rebecca got a grilled cheese
And I got a burger
We watched and listened to our waitress
She made all of the other customers
Feel like they
Were the most important people in the world
The sweetest things…
She was the nicest lady
We made small talk with her
Said she lived just outta town
And didn’t care for people in general
But her mannerisms belied that
“Here ya go sweet thing.” and she dropped
Off Bex’s slice of cherry pie
She tried to sell me on their dessert special:
Strawberry shortcake
I wasn’t in the mood
But she brought me a teeny-tiny piece anyway
“Free of charge, sweet thing.”
It was seriously good
A real sweet thing
The pink strawberry juices soaked up by shortcake
Topped with some homemade whipped cream
The black coffee was the perfect compliment
I tipped her heavy
“Oh, thank you, sweet things! You’re too kind. Safe travels!”
We went back outside to our car
Squinting in the sunlight
Not a single cloud was in the sky as we left
Seemed like a magical moment
We almost didn’t want to leave
Both of us, satiated and happy
42/52
On road trips
I want a real family owned cafe or bar
Always on the lookout for good local food
We found it
No shit – the place was called the Tumbleweed Café in Magdalena, NM
You almost couldn’t make it up
“What’ll you sweet things like to drink?”
The waitress, maybe in her early 50s
A hard looking woman
Graying, straight hair
Nice body, but missing a tooth
She rattled off 10-12 drink options
Rebecca got a lemonade and I got coffee
Black
“Here ya go, sweet things.” Our waitress said as she brought us our drinks
“Sweet things need more time for your order?”
Our waitress called us “sweet things”
Each time she came around
A lovely and loving endearment
Rebecca got a grilled cheese
And I got a burger
We watched and listened to our waitress
She made all of the other customers
Feel like they
Were the most important people in the world
The sweetest things…
She was the nicest lady
We made small talk with her
Said she lived just outta town
And didn’t care for people in general
But her mannerisms belied that
“Here ya go sweet thing.” and she dropped
Off Bex’s slice of cherry pie
She tried to sell me on their dessert special:
Strawberry shortcake
I wasn’t in the mood
But she brought me a teeny-tiny piece anyway
“Free of charge, sweet thing.”
It was seriously good
A real sweet thing
The pink strawberry juices soaked up by shortcake
Topped with some homemade whipped cream
The black coffee was the perfect compliment
I tipped her heavy
“Oh, thank you, sweet things! You’re too kind. Safe travels!”
We went back outside to our car
Squinting in the sunlight
Not a single cloud was in the sky as we left
Seemed like a magical moment
We almost didn’t want to leave
Both of us, satiated and happy
42/52
Last edited:
Wonderer67
Optimistic nihilist
- Joined
- Sep 25, 2020
- Posts
- 12,255
West Texas Intermediate
I hadn’t been in Texas
In 15 years
I had some reservations
Bad memories
2007, separated from my now ex-wife and baby girl
Two deployments to the sandbox
And back to Ft Hood
It’s not even called that anymore: Fort Cavazos now
But this time I wasn’t tethered
To my contract with Uncle Sam
Or anyone
Or anything
Just Rebecca
And having to be back at work on September 12th
West Texas was still west Texas
High chaparral
Prairies
Oil wells
Bobbing up and down like birds
Or dinosaurs
Sucking up that Texas tea…
Oil that is…black gold
Ranching towns
One horse towns
Oil towns
One stop-light towns
Just a cafe and a gas station
And a cluster of houses and other stores
Sometimes a bar or a bank
A red flashing light in the middle of west Texas
A huddle of buildings or houses
Where two roads meet
One road going north-south
The other east-west
Past more oil wells
Prickly pear cactus
Cattle grazing on brown grasses
Telephone poles
Bobbing oil wells
Hot outside - hundred on the dot
I forgot how hilly west Texas was
Quite beautiful really
For a few hot minutes
I could see Rebecca and I retiring here
But calmer minds prevailed
We didn’t really have a destination
Just Austin for Wednesday and maybe Thursday
Ready to see some live music
Get our dance faces on
And a wedding in Houston on Friday night
It was nice taking back roads
Two lane roads
Driving past ranch after ranch
Oil well after oil well
Endless wire fence
And not one Trump sign
At least not yet
43/52
I hadn’t been in Texas
In 15 years
I had some reservations
Bad memories
2007, separated from my now ex-wife and baby girl
Two deployments to the sandbox
And back to Ft Hood
It’s not even called that anymore: Fort Cavazos now
But this time I wasn’t tethered
To my contract with Uncle Sam
Or anyone
Or anything
Just Rebecca
And having to be back at work on September 12th
West Texas was still west Texas
High chaparral
Prairies
Oil wells
Bobbing up and down like birds
Or dinosaurs
Sucking up that Texas tea…
Oil that is…black gold
Ranching towns
One horse towns
Oil towns
One stop-light towns
Just a cafe and a gas station
And a cluster of houses and other stores
Sometimes a bar or a bank
A red flashing light in the middle of west Texas
A huddle of buildings or houses
Where two roads meet
One road going north-south
The other east-west
Past more oil wells
Prickly pear cactus
Cattle grazing on brown grasses
Telephone poles
Bobbing oil wells
Hot outside - hundred on the dot
I forgot how hilly west Texas was
Quite beautiful really
For a few hot minutes
I could see Rebecca and I retiring here
But calmer minds prevailed
We didn’t really have a destination
Just Austin for Wednesday and maybe Thursday
Ready to see some live music
Get our dance faces on
And a wedding in Houston on Friday night
It was nice taking back roads
Two lane roads
Driving past ranch after ranch
Oil well after oil well
Endless wire fence
And not one Trump sign
At least not yet
43/52
Tzara
Continental
- Joined
- Aug 2, 2005
- Posts
- 7,718
Freud Salad
Sometimes a cigar
is just a cigar
unless it is a banana,
yellow, curved, ripe,
thrust into the cleft
of a firm peach,
its furred skin split
and dripping.
Or, perhaps, this
is just me hungry
and thinking about
fresh fruit. Or
maybe I just need
another, another poem.
Week 37: Poem 1: Total 51
Sometimes a cigar
is just a cigar
unless it is a banana,
yellow, curved, ripe,
thrust into the cleft
of a firm peach,
its furred skin split
and dripping.
Or, perhaps, this
is just me hungry
and thinking about
fresh fruit. Or
maybe I just need
another, another poem.
Week 37: Poem 1: Total 51
Ambient4190
Really Experienced
- Joined
- May 4, 2021
- Posts
- 256
bottle to glass
virgin
brilliant bubbles stream north
effervescent chill
moments later half empty
on the bar
minutes tick by
slowly warms
ice melts
goes flat
youth passed
innocence gone
patron leaves
bartender discards remains
down the sink
virgin
brilliant bubbles stream north
effervescent chill
moments later half empty
on the bar
minutes tick by
slowly warms
ice melts
goes flat
youth passed
innocence gone
patron leaves
bartender discards remains
down the sink
29wordsforsnow
beyond thirty
- Joined
- Jul 17, 2019
- Posts
- 1,217
I haven't felt the poetry
of a night sky bejeweled
with those catchy keyholes
looking inside lighter worlds
in days
but swam the large river
sunken thirsty, watery eyes
drinking paragraphs, chapters
wave after wave black-on-white
for weeks
kindled by a sweet voice
temptation across the sea
soft calls for my mind to dive
beneath the waterfall of words
on hand
their modern fairy tales
of steel-laced fists closed
around the fragile seed within
is it a cage to protect or possess?
a twin
but curiosity willed the trap
tendrils of new slipping through
cracks only a smile can break into
peeling the prison of gold, cold hold
over time
breath-taking at last
wings of their own unroll
to tame the ancient currents
soon dust rises from a single beat
at last
in front of the window
see the cocoons break
free from the bandages
to seize the skies and see
where this goes
of a night sky bejeweled
with those catchy keyholes
looking inside lighter worlds
in days
but swam the large river
sunken thirsty, watery eyes
drinking paragraphs, chapters
wave after wave black-on-white
for weeks
kindled by a sweet voice
temptation across the sea
soft calls for my mind to dive
beneath the waterfall of words
on hand
their modern fairy tales
of steel-laced fists closed
around the fragile seed within
is it a cage to protect or possess?
a twin
but curiosity willed the trap
tendrils of new slipping through
cracks only a smile can break into
peeling the prison of gold, cold hold
over time
breath-taking at last
wings of their own unroll
to tame the ancient currents
soon dust rises from a single beat
at last
in front of the window
see the cocoons break
free from the bandages
to seize the skies and see
where this goes
butters
High on a Hill
- Joined
- Jul 2, 2009
- Posts
- 84,994
poem #45
the aftermath of a death
it's been working quietly
without complaint
without a thank you
for more than sixty years
down in the basement
by the shelves of jellies
jams and pickles
but
the day it died
the vast chest freezer
spurred creativity
beyond the mess and slop
of thrown-out ruins
and though quite unprepared
unable to resuscitate
the lower-level casualties
i saved the corn
yes, that corn
tomatoes
peas and beans
masses of strawberries
peaches, cantaloupe
figs and more
but the corn
oh man
creamed corn by the gallon
and as i eat it for breakfast
laced with bacon bits and love
i give thanks to a deceased machine
and adapted internet recipe
salute my respect with a spoon
—and know heaven can wait
the aftermath of a death
it's been working quietly
without complaint
without a thank you
for more than sixty years
down in the basement
by the shelves of jellies
jams and pickles
but
the day it died
the vast chest freezer
spurred creativity
beyond the mess and slop
of thrown-out ruins
and though quite unprepared
unable to resuscitate
the lower-level casualties
i saved the corn
yes, that corn
tomatoes
peas and beans
masses of strawberries
peaches, cantaloupe
figs and more
but the corn
oh man
creamed corn by the gallon
and as i eat it for breakfast
laced with bacon bits and love
i give thanks to a deceased machine
and adapted internet recipe
salute my respect with a spoon
—and know heaven can wait
Last edited:
Wonderer67
Optimistic nihilist
- Joined
- Sep 25, 2020
- Posts
- 12,255
Highs and Lows
Prelude (Saturday and Sunday)
I felt so good
Really felt at peace for a few months
Saturday night, a fire with Rebecca
Outside on the back patio
Looking up at that big bear
Ursa Major
What did our ancestors wonder when they looked up at her?
I wondered
It was cool out, almost sweater weather
A good roaring fire in the fire pit
We had worked hard at the farm Saturday
And it was nice to just relax
And Sunday too
We picked pumpkins and put them
Out at the farm stand
Someone came by with little kids
And we gave them misshapen gourds and pumpkins
For free
Kid smiles and laughter
The best sounds and sights
And Monday night
Coming home from the farm
In the fading blue light
If someone said, imagine a beautiful late summer early evening
This would have been it
The crescent moon was there
Peeking at us from behind trees
But there was some kind of pull later Monday night
Looking back
My mood changed and I got irritable
Tuesday Morning
Trapped in the turret
Hydraulic fluid all over me – a ruptured line
The smell of an electrical fire
Struggling to get out
A dream…
So fucking real I could have been right in there
In fact I was there for a bit
Maybe minutes
Maybe seconds
Not 100% sure
I don’t think it was too much longer than that
A moment of absolute terror
My worst fear – fire inside the turret
Tank fires leave nothing left…
Dead of night
Heart racing, my body stretched like a rubber band
I know the routine now, tho
Ground and breathe
Get control of your surroundings
Only 1:22… Fuck! Four more hours of this shit?
Unless I can sleep
I know this routine now, unfortunately
Left hand over heart, right over stomach
My breathing mantra
In: I am right here…
Out: I am right now…
Deep breaths
The dream creeps in and loops and loops and loops
It doesn’t want to give up
Distract, Tim…
Baseball, Sprint cars, Onomatopoeia, 86 Mets
Get a song worm going
Breathe and count
I remember my therapist, Veronica
She told me to make the lullaby
Sleep is the most important thing
But the trick is to get back to sleep
Just sleep it off, Tim
Close your eyes
Breathe, seven seconds in
Seven seconds out
Count it…try to sleep
No good
The dream kept on replaying
And looping
Then I thought about other things eating at me
It cascaded into my head
Guilt
Work shit
Overcommitting
My son and daughter
Then the fucking loop again
Last resort, walk the laps
But by this time
It was all that was left to do
Do something physical
Almost 2am now
My usual circuit: Living room, dining room, kitchen hallway and back
A new loop
A Steve Earle song popped into my head
As I walked lap after lap
I couldn’t remember all of the lyrics
But it was not a happy song
It don’t get any lonelier than this…
Loop after loop
Lap after lap
I know I’ve got shitty chemicals in my head
Or I am weak
Or yes
What pisses me off
Is that I felt so goddamn good
For weeks prior
Two stepping with Rebecca at The White Horse
Both of us fantasizing about a threesome
Our wonderful trip and friends
Even Saturday night
I looked up at the Big Dipper and felt so calm and peaceful
Giving away pumpkins and gourds to kids
I know it’s temporary
But it replays in my head
Loop after lap after loop
It’ll fade
But I know I gotta feed my mind something else
To
Re-program that shitty brain
Damaged goods
But it impacts everything around me
My relationships
Work
Making shitty choices
Snapping at people I love
Off kilter
Abnormal brain
Abby normal
Hans Delbrück (I smiled... immature humor never fails me)
Intellectually I know
That this is not forever
And I will come back into balance
Time does heal it
And I do have the tools now
This is what a ptsd episode looks and feels like for me
Wednesday
Shitty sleep the night before
Up and down
I got up at five at masturbated to
A hot thread on Lit
I was hard
I felt needy
I needed love and affection
With someone but all alone
Rebecca was asleep
So I worked out
I had a lot of energy and worked out hard
My usual routine
But much harder
I needed a hard fuck afterwards
I was really horny
Rebecca was up for it
Even tho I was kinda gross and sweaty
That is true love
I started really going to town
From behind in spoons – her go to position
Hammering her
I had to remember the golden rule
This was all on her terms
Slow down, baby. Not too hard. She told me
She pushed her hand onto my waist to guide the pace
I want it nice and slow she told me
And I slowed down
I have to remember
That it’s about her pleasure
I saved my sacred fluid
Like I am always ordered to
Blue balls…
But then a manic feeling
Anxiety
I couldn’t stop moving all morning
I was hardly dressed
Zoom outfit - nice shirt and cargo shorts
The work mullet:
All businesses up top
All party down below
I worked from home Wednesday
Couldn’t focus - brain racing
Two quick Teams meetings from 9-10
And then Rebecca hugged me before she went to work at 10
She hugged me tight
I hugged her back
And kissed her
Then she squatted down
Took down my shorts
And sucked me again before she left for work
I think she felt bad for me
I’ll take it
Still no release
But it felt good at least
God, how I love that woman
A saint in blue jeans
I was a mess all morning
Trying to keep my shit wired tight
At lunch
I mowed the lawn and split firewood
I was out of breath
Anxiety and energy
Tugging at me all day
Thursday Morning
As if it had almost never happened
It was a gorgeous morning
I admired the beauty as I traversed Sourland Mountain
On the way to work
A sunny morning, cool
Dew on the trees and in the fields
First day of fall
I felt good again
Whole
Like when I was looking
Off of the top of the Mogollon Rim
Dancing at the White Horse
Looking up at momma bear
It was nice to just listen to XMU
And enjoy the morning
And work was good
Productive
Back in balance
It’s been a year of learning
It’s been a week of learning
That’s for sure
Note: Sorry to sound like such a little depressive bitch. I am not dumping. Just being 100% transparent. This is just my reality. These episodes happen every so often and it’s helpful to write about it.
I don’t know if it’s even poetry.
Sorry if it’s upsetting or repetitive or overly long. I’m actually usually fairly happy.
44/52
Prelude (Saturday and Sunday)
I felt so good
Really felt at peace for a few months
Saturday night, a fire with Rebecca
Outside on the back patio
Looking up at that big bear
Ursa Major
What did our ancestors wonder when they looked up at her?
I wondered
It was cool out, almost sweater weather
A good roaring fire in the fire pit
We had worked hard at the farm Saturday
And it was nice to just relax
And Sunday too
We picked pumpkins and put them
Out at the farm stand
Someone came by with little kids
And we gave them misshapen gourds and pumpkins
For free
Kid smiles and laughter
The best sounds and sights
And Monday night
Coming home from the farm
In the fading blue light
If someone said, imagine a beautiful late summer early evening
This would have been it
The crescent moon was there
Peeking at us from behind trees
But there was some kind of pull later Monday night
Looking back
My mood changed and I got irritable
Tuesday Morning
Trapped in the turret
Hydraulic fluid all over me – a ruptured line
The smell of an electrical fire
Struggling to get out
A dream…
So fucking real I could have been right in there
In fact I was there for a bit
Maybe minutes
Maybe seconds
Not 100% sure
I don’t think it was too much longer than that
A moment of absolute terror
My worst fear – fire inside the turret
Tank fires leave nothing left…
Dead of night
Heart racing, my body stretched like a rubber band
I know the routine now, tho
Ground and breathe
Get control of your surroundings
Only 1:22… Fuck! Four more hours of this shit?
Unless I can sleep
I know this routine now, unfortunately
Left hand over heart, right over stomach
My breathing mantra
In: I am right here…
Out: I am right now…
Deep breaths
The dream creeps in and loops and loops and loops
It doesn’t want to give up
Distract, Tim…
Baseball, Sprint cars, Onomatopoeia, 86 Mets
Get a song worm going
Breathe and count
I remember my therapist, Veronica
She told me to make the lullaby
Sleep is the most important thing
But the trick is to get back to sleep
Just sleep it off, Tim
Close your eyes
Breathe, seven seconds in
Seven seconds out
Count it…try to sleep
No good
The dream kept on replaying
And looping
Then I thought about other things eating at me
It cascaded into my head
Guilt
Work shit
Overcommitting
My son and daughter
Then the fucking loop again
Last resort, walk the laps
But by this time
It was all that was left to do
Do something physical
Almost 2am now
My usual circuit: Living room, dining room, kitchen hallway and back
A new loop
A Steve Earle song popped into my head
As I walked lap after lap
I couldn’t remember all of the lyrics
But it was not a happy song
It don’t get any lonelier than this…
Loop after loop
Lap after lap
I know I’ve got shitty chemicals in my head
Or I am weak
Or yes
What pisses me off
Is that I felt so goddamn good
For weeks prior
Two stepping with Rebecca at The White Horse
Both of us fantasizing about a threesome
Our wonderful trip and friends
Even Saturday night
I looked up at the Big Dipper and felt so calm and peaceful
Giving away pumpkins and gourds to kids
I know it’s temporary
But it replays in my head
Loop after lap after loop
It’ll fade
But I know I gotta feed my mind something else
To
Re-program that shitty brain
Damaged goods
But it impacts everything around me
My relationships
Work
Making shitty choices
Snapping at people I love
Off kilter
Abnormal brain
Abby normal
Hans Delbrück (I smiled... immature humor never fails me)
Intellectually I know
That this is not forever
And I will come back into balance
Time does heal it
And I do have the tools now
This is what a ptsd episode looks and feels like for me
Wednesday
Shitty sleep the night before
Up and down
I got up at five at masturbated to
A hot thread on Lit
I was hard
I felt needy
I needed love and affection
With someone but all alone
Rebecca was asleep
So I worked out
I had a lot of energy and worked out hard
My usual routine
But much harder
I needed a hard fuck afterwards
I was really horny
Rebecca was up for it
Even tho I was kinda gross and sweaty
That is true love
I started really going to town
From behind in spoons – her go to position
Hammering her
I had to remember the golden rule
This was all on her terms
Slow down, baby. Not too hard. She told me
She pushed her hand onto my waist to guide the pace
I want it nice and slow she told me
And I slowed down
I have to remember
That it’s about her pleasure
I saved my sacred fluid
Like I am always ordered to
Blue balls…
But then a manic feeling
Anxiety
I couldn’t stop moving all morning
I was hardly dressed
Zoom outfit - nice shirt and cargo shorts
The work mullet:
All businesses up top
All party down below
I worked from home Wednesday
Couldn’t focus - brain racing
Two quick Teams meetings from 9-10
And then Rebecca hugged me before she went to work at 10
She hugged me tight
I hugged her back
And kissed her
Then she squatted down
Took down my shorts
And sucked me again before she left for work
I think she felt bad for me
I’ll take it
Still no release
But it felt good at least
God, how I love that woman
A saint in blue jeans
I was a mess all morning
Trying to keep my shit wired tight
At lunch
I mowed the lawn and split firewood
I was out of breath
Anxiety and energy
Tugging at me all day
Thursday Morning
As if it had almost never happened
It was a gorgeous morning
I admired the beauty as I traversed Sourland Mountain
On the way to work
A sunny morning, cool
Dew on the trees and in the fields
First day of fall
I felt good again
Whole
Like when I was looking
Off of the top of the Mogollon Rim
Dancing at the White Horse
Looking up at momma bear
It was nice to just listen to XMU
And enjoy the morning
And work was good
Productive
Back in balance
It’s been a year of learning
It’s been a week of learning
That’s for sure
Note: Sorry to sound like such a little depressive bitch. I am not dumping. Just being 100% transparent. This is just my reality. These episodes happen every so often and it’s helpful to write about it.
I don’t know if it’s even poetry.
Sorry if it’s upsetting or repetitive or overly long. I’m actually usually fairly happy.
44/52
Last edited:
Angeline
Poet Chick
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2002
- Posts
- 27,245
Then and Now
I remember the dogwood tree,
a slim sapling with tentative branches
planted in the front yard for Mama
on a summer day long ago, a picnic
day at the backyard redwood table.
I wore a ridiculous costume, pretending
to be the Statue of Liberty, one arm
rigid, holding up a flashlight and oh
I was such a serious child. I had to
grow up to learn how to laugh,
but no one laughed at me
that day. Grandpop
called me a patriot and later
bought me Mr. Softee ice cream.
The dogwood grew to tower
over us all, but it's gone now just like
Mama, Grandpop, everyone
pretty much.
The Statue of Liberty stands
in New York Harbor still, so why
does America seem so far away?
Week 38, Poem 1, Total 47
I remember the dogwood tree,
a slim sapling with tentative branches
planted in the front yard for Mama
on a summer day long ago, a picnic
day at the backyard redwood table.
I wore a ridiculous costume, pretending
to be the Statue of Liberty, one arm
rigid, holding up a flashlight and oh
I was such a serious child. I had to
grow up to learn how to laugh,
but no one laughed at me
that day. Grandpop
called me a patriot and later
bought me Mr. Softee ice cream.
The dogwood grew to tower
over us all, but it's gone now just like
Mama, Grandpop, everyone
pretty much.
The Statue of Liberty stands
in New York Harbor still, so why
does America seem so far away?
Week 38, Poem 1, Total 47
Ambient4190
Really Experienced
- Joined
- May 4, 2021
- Posts
- 256
legs spread wide
next to me
he stinks
straight off golf course
or job site
I redeem him
in my head
he has a family
caught afternoon flight
wife gave ultimatum
I shift away as far
as seat belt permits
my eyes closed
my mind writes
until
a female voice
would you like something to drink
next to me
he stinks
straight off golf course
or job site
I redeem him
in my head
he has a family
caught afternoon flight
wife gave ultimatum
I shift away as far
as seat belt permits
my eyes closed
my mind writes
until
a female voice
would you like something to drink
Tzara
Continental
- Joined
- Aug 2, 2005
- Posts
- 7,718
Tai Chi in the Rain
During cat stance, rain
begins to fall like feathers.
I shift to bow stance,
press, and her body pivots
and seems almost to vanish.
Reverse positions,
and I lead her off balance
as if a current
has shifted, guiding a leaf
right past a glistening stone.
All things are water,
or light, or wind, fire, or earth.
I strive to capture
the flow of these elements.
I do not, but yet I try.
Week 38: Poem 1: Total 52
During cat stance, rain
begins to fall like feathers.
I shift to bow stance,
press, and her body pivots
and seems almost to vanish.
Reverse positions,
and I lead her off balance
as if a current
has shifted, guiding a leaf
right past a glistening stone.
All things are water,
or light, or wind, fire, or earth.
I strive to capture
the flow of these elements.
I do not, but yet I try.
Week 38: Poem 1: Total 52
Tzara
Continental
- Joined
- Aug 2, 2005
- Posts
- 7,718
Rondeau of the Ever-More-Desperate Poet
Another week, another verse,
Or poèm, not to be perverse.
An elegant and spry ballet
Of words, or just a kind of play.
Just recognize it could be worse.
To write one weekly's like a curse
(One needs one's themes to be diverse)
And over time one's talents fray—
Another week.
Still, I press on. Indeed, traverse
Poetic landscapes glib or terse
Intrepidly, for come what may,
I've sensibilities to flay
Until deliverèd by hearse.
Another week!
Week 39: Poem 1: Total 53
Another week, another verse,
Or poèm, not to be perverse.
An elegant and spry ballet
Of words, or just a kind of play.
Just recognize it could be worse.
To write one weekly's like a curse
(One needs one's themes to be diverse)
And over time one's talents fray—
Another week.
Still, I press on. Indeed, traverse
Poetic landscapes glib or terse
Intrepidly, for come what may,
I've sensibilities to flay
Until deliverèd by hearse.
Another week!
Week 39: Poem 1: Total 53
POETRY....prose....whatever....
world goes on .........bombs fall in distant Kherson...
Zelensky rages ......Asian Games take place in Hangzhou...far off China
A rapist is let off early and murders a 30 something Tech CEO....
life goes on......World/Olympic records tumble at athletic meets....
G-20 Summit takes place .... Grain exports are embargoed .......Africans suffer......
but life goes on .....Presidents join striking picketers......Writers reach agreement in Hollywood....
life/ world goes on.........
[ all news items were reported today in CNN portal and i didn't even touch impeachment proceedings or Republican Primary debates...]
world goes on .........bombs fall in distant Kherson...
Zelensky rages ......Asian Games take place in Hangzhou...far off China
A rapist is let off early and murders a 30 something Tech CEO....
life goes on......World/Olympic records tumble at athletic meets....
G-20 Summit takes place .... Grain exports are embargoed .......Africans suffer......
but life goes on .....Presidents join striking picketers......Writers reach agreement in Hollywood....
life/ world goes on.........
[ all news items were reported today in CNN portal and i didn't even touch impeachment proceedings or Republican Primary debates...]
Ambient4190
Really Experienced
- Joined
- May 4, 2021
- Posts
- 256
autumns darkness
all sleep
pumpkins goblins
black coffins
winters blue
frozen lake skates
ice snow sleet
mittens boots capes
spring leaves
all greens
secret places to play
hide and seek
summers humidity
sinuous heat
sandy beach
sprinklers in the street
one year past
all sleep
pumpkins goblins
black coffins
winters blue
frozen lake skates
ice snow sleet
mittens boots capes
spring leaves
all greens
secret places to play
hide and seek
summers humidity
sinuous heat
sandy beach
sprinklers in the street
one year past
Angeline
Poet Chick
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2002
- Posts
- 27,245
A Domme's Triolet
If I tell you it's not yet time
For I command and you submit,
You mustn't touch; wait for my sign.
If I tell you it's not yet time
It's ended if you cross the line:
The finish comes when I permit
If I tell you it's not yet time
For I command and you submit.
Week 39, Poem 1, Total 48
If I tell you it's not yet time
For I command and you submit,
You mustn't touch; wait for my sign.
If I tell you it's not yet time
It's ended if you cross the line:
The finish comes when I permit
If I tell you it's not yet time
For I command and you submit.
Week 39, Poem 1, Total 48
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