Tag Archives: everyday poems

Something’s Wrong

All my socks are matched and in drawers.
I do not want a book from the bookstore.
My bed is made.
There aren’t any empty glasses on my nightstand.
I’ve hung up all my clothes.
My shoes are where they’re supposed to be.
There’s something wrong with me.

There’s a crossed-out to-do list.
My blankets are perfectly folded.
My desktop has no strays.
I’m smiling at myself in mirrors.
An outfit is set out for the next day.
I’m laughing at your jokes.
I’m asking for help.

I start to tell you something and get upset when you don’t understand.
I’ll tell you, “never mind.”
I tell you I need to be alone. Then I sit where there are people.
I don’t cry when I listen to “The River.”
I don’t eat any of the chips & salsa.
I won’t argue with you.
I sound good on the phone.

I’m telling you because no one knows.
And one someone should know.
These are my signs.

Poems from My Day (1-21)

i’ve been so cold this week

I’ve started saying phrases I don’t believe in,
Copied from other people
Who have their guard awake constantly
And have perfect eyebrows.
Things like, I would greatly appreciate it if,
And have a wonderful weekend, or
I’m so glad to hear you say that.
I’m developing a constant refrain of saying,
The old me never would have said …
Would never let herself,
Would have stood up to this before now.

I read a boy I knew in high school’s post
On an off-chance and a whim,
About how he tried to commit suicide because of his weight
How he’s a beautiful person inside and out now,
And it sounded pre-written, scripted,
So I’m worried about him as a person, now,
Instead of dying of heat disease.

I’ve needed the help of my mother.
She’s been there.
She’s helped me do big girl things this week,
Like open a 401k, tell me I only need 10k in life insurance,
Write my first two-weeks notice, and tell me it’ll be ok.
I had this terrible thought,
My kids, if I have them, won’t know the mom I knew,
They won’t know her without wrinkles, skinny.
They won’t see all the cuts and bandages she’s put on me.
And soon I’ll be the only one who knows about those too.

You’ll never understand me,
Even if you want to, try to,
And I’m okay with that.
But, then again, I’m hard to upset.
As long as we don’t start sharing our souls,
I’m fine with you on nodding along.

I say hi to the cleaning people.
I’m not sure if I do it out of pity,
Or goodness,
Or trying to do right.
Or to prove I’m righteous and good.
I might say hi to them, because they’re the only people lower on the totem pole than me, and they have to be nice to me, which is a change.

Exit only signs.
I let my brain work out why they say exit only instead of no re-entry,
When I’m about to lose my lane on the highway.
I have to have a stupid problem for my brain to work out while I’m driving
Otherwise, I’d start to feel mundane.

I think I’m developing a stutter.
I make myself so nervous.
I try to get everything out perfectly.
I have to double check everything I say,
So it’s perfect.
So I can’t be at fault.
I’m even stuttering in my mind.

She said, I literally just turned this on, this second.
I told her I believed her.
She’s nervous. She thinks I think all she does is watch tv.
I don’t mind, or judge. I’ve been there.
I try so hard to be a non-passer of judgment.
Especially as it relates to people I like.

I budgeted this month correctly.
I can buy sunflower seeds and saline nose spray.
I put the 10% in savings, and the 250 in retirement.
Tomorrow I’ll remember to put deodorant on,
Reply to all those emails,
And do all my dishes.
Then, as my mother says,
I’ll start to see the warning signs.
When all my socks are matched, and put in drawers,
My desktop is organized, and my pens all work,
It means there’s something wrong,
When it’s all too clean.

Poems from My Day (11-11)

Why do i have to be an adult?

Yesterday it was a frozen pizza, the crappy kind, with the thin crust
And the too thick pepperoni.
The day before it was finishing my Netflix movie.
But today,
I couldn’t think of something to get me through,
I didn’t have the –
If I get this done, I’ll be one step closer to,
If I just make it through this,
Only a few more hours until,
Then I can,
Then I will,
Then I’ll be able to.
But I got to the end just the same.

Regulars are only depressing in bars and Starbucks
I want to be a regular in a little café
Run by a mom and grandpa
Where they know what I want,
And what not to ask,
A family with food,
That’s what I want.

I wanted to share what happened, what I was feeling,
But I’m remembering those times,
Something I’ve said,
Something I spit, unguarded which has come back to say hello.
Oh, well, I remember you having this problem before,
Geez, you complain about this all the time,
Didn’t you say you didn’t like him anymore?
So I have to read, then re-read what I share,
Anything I say will be used against me later,
So I have to shut up now.

I have so much patience for anyone who isn’t him.
I will understand, sympathize, nod my head,
For anyone who hasn’t yelled at me,
Blamed me for no reason,
And taught me I was wrong,
For years.
For anyone else I’ll understand why they can’t eat pho,
Or enter a Vietnamese restaurant,
To him I thiink,
Be racist in front of someone who cares.

I wait for the snap.
I meet someone, they seem kind,
And calm, sweet, sharing, and generous.
I wait for them to get mad,
So I can see what they do when they’re unguarded,
Before I can let them in.
And no one’s made it so far.

I’ve never noticed that self-confidence gets you any farther.
So what if I don’t think I can do that,
It’s reasonable.
It doesn’t mean I’m not good at my job,
Or I can’t drive in my lines.
It means I won’t brag,
Won’t punch,
And don’t make fuss.
Isn’t that what the world needs more?

Thoughts from my mother:
If we had gotten divorced I don’t think he would have gotten into college.
He’s saying sorry a lot more. He’s getting better.
He doesn’t yell as much anymore, and I got him to go the Y with me last week.
I’ll start texting the girls everyday to get in the habit, so when he goes off to school,
He’ll keep talking to me.

10 Poems in 20 Minutes (Day Six)

Six days in a row. That takes two hands to count.

10 Poems in 20 Minutes

Poem 1:
I’m afraid that once I think the thought
All the way through
It will go away
And I won’t think it anymore

Poem 2:
She’s lying right outside my door
Her life drips out
And I’ve done nothing with mine

Poem 3:
I have this daisy on my desk
I plucked it from the bunch on the table
Someone sent us in a box with numbers and flowers and cards
Damp cardboard and plastic wet wrappings
All alone lasted longer
Stem brothers all faded
Mine still petals
Singled out makes it better
Solidarity in death in water

Poem 4:
I missed the person I was supposed to pick up
I texted and called
They walked right by the pale sky colored car
Now what am I doing
I’m sitting in a car waiting for no one

Poem 5:
I found what I needed to make it to tomorrow
That’s all I’ll ever have

Poem 6:
I emulate calm
I am calm
I tell myself to calm down
And stay calm
Fury will not help
Get this fury away from me, what am I to do with it. I don’t know what to do with it.
It’s flitting all over the place.
I press the gas down harder.
Fury comes out of my engine and makes us move faster down this little twisty road
Worse, though, I don’t know which way to hold my head.

Poem 7:
Marry me Mary Sue, tell me you’ll love me always, tell me to be with me forever
I’ll not marry you if you ask this Mary Sue, I’ll not love till tomorrow, I’ll stay mine forever now
Please won’t you see me Mary Sue, just look my way this once, and I’ll love you till forever
I won’t look your way, if you ask this Mary Sue, I’ll not see you till tomorrow, I don’t care

Poem 8:
I got an angry text message
What do I do with an angry text message?
There’s no voice attached
No smiles
No lines in the face
So it sits there
I’m not even sure he’s angry
It just looks angry
The whole thing seems
Resigned and mad
Each word means something different now that I’m looking again

Poem 9:
A box of someone else’s treasure pieces
Doesn’t hold much for me
But that won’t stop me from throwing it away
So it can be the racoon’s happy place now

Poem 10:
She said she talks to entertain
But she’s met with silence on our passive days
How do the boring interpret silence?
It’s not going anywhere
Do they wait for that one acknowledged eye?
Single out the glasses for the victims of the following quiz?
Or are they talking to ease their own
No to use
We are the heartbeats they need to feel important
They tell the stories to themselves
And make sure you listen to feel better

So here I am, stuck, listening, to the pitter and the rain
And the ongoing drama of an untouched life.
A life that doesn’t need to me
Just needs my heatbeat and certainty