Tag Archives: good poetry

Poems from My Day (5/19)

i wrote ten of them. you know why.

My dog led me along a thin and narrow path.
I followed her into the deep woods, into rivers
Under trees, I followed her.
We walked up a hill steep and narrow.
She yanked my arm,
Shot into the brush,
And brought me out a little squeaking groundhog.
I followed her while she buried it,
Then we went back to the car.
We had such a lovely time.

She told me I have too much personality. These, hand brush, are cookie-cutters,
Like those boxes that only change from beige to brown,
You, you have too much you in you.

If I wanted to,
I can find all your secrets. Anything you’ve tacked up.
It’s all still there.

Who’s gonna pay for this?
Look at all this damage.
You did this to me.

Tried a new place where the old Thai place used to be, had good drunken, sloppy, noodles.
I wanted to like it, for the spirit of the thing.
They showed off the same dusty black candle boxes, the same Vishnu painting with a mint tint.
The noodles were gummy and the chicken chewy.
I started singing Joni’s “don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.”
And I didn’t laugh at someone else’s joke. I’m still going through my, I want to be stoic and not laugh all the time phase.
My cheeks hurt now when I smile.
Their sweetened condensed tea wasn’t bad. One day, I’ll be on time. I’ll find the place I love and it won’t close before I’ve had my fill.
Too fancy philosophical for closing Thai restaurants? Yeah, I thought so.

I drive over the limit when I’m surrounded in traffic.
But when I drive at two, after a Saturday of whatever it was,
I go the 55 exactly. I’m accountable more to myself than to the waves, then, I suppose.
I hear as my car starts to struggle with the second switch, my second switch hasn’t worked since I have to be exhausted to sleep.

One of these I wrote for you, you know.
I’ll give you a hint. It was a love poem. Not that I write a lot of love poetry, or good love poetry, or good poetry at all. (I’m not fishing, don’t send me things, you butts)
I just want to talk with you. But I don’t know how to get you to open your instructions.
And if you do start talking, I don’t know what to say. I’ll say something to make you go away again. I always do. Then I miss you.
You said that to me once. I missed you. It made my day, you know? No you don’t.
I’ll be flying with my fancies over this way. Belittling myself again.

I had to tell a story about something fun I did with my best friend from childhood. I couldn’t think of one.
And I started telling it and got that feeling of being boring, and made it worse.
I trapped myself, then got mad at being trapped, then made myself stuck.
We must have done something that was nice, that I don’t associate with embarrassment, shame, penance and disgust. And now I can’t think of any gleeful memory.
They’re only happy when I’m in a certain mood.

So, then, big power in my mind.
I just get the one, then?
She gets me. She’s smarter, and funny as hell, I want to write down everything she says,
Mystical magical.
Same soul.
I just get the one though? I need another, please. Where do I fill out my form?
I’ll get on stage and recite lines for you. I want someone to know me.
Someone I’m not scared to hide the sections of me I only tell the dogs and strangers.
I tried to give it to someone else, pushed it, dropped, stained my floor, still there now, part of the furniture.

I’ll never be good enough. Enough for me.
The competitive me wants more.
The styrofoam container kid in church, says you work for goodness.
But I still take comfort, sometimes, in thinking that the meek have something.
We’re supposed to get the Earth. I think I have that on a magic card as manna.

10 Poems in 20 Minutes (Day Thirty-One)

I think anyone who reads my poems is pretty. Which, de facto means I’m pretty, which I was totally going for.

10 Poems in 20 Minutes
Day 31

Poem 1:
Six of us traveled up to the holler, mission trip
We couldn’t mission near us
We worked to stock the food bank, we did
This great big warehouse with shelves to the sky
They got a new shipment
Had us categorize and sort
It was green peppers from prisoners
They grew peppers
I just wanted to wash my hands
I thought one of them hid drugs or shivs in the plants
I convinced myself their evil would touch me
On what they grew
But if the ground grew for them, I guess
They’re probably ok

Poem 2:
She said you’re more animated when he’s not around.
Otherwise I’m a still life.
Which causes less drama.

Poem 3:
I can’t believe I did this
I, I wrote you
No I can’t even say it
I wrote you a love song
It rhymes and everything
I plucked out the piano keys
Recorded it for you
And rhymed love with thought of
Worst thing ever

Poem 4:
I drugged myself today with lack of sleep
Brain doesn’t work as well
It gives me permission to be silly
Without analysis
I smile

Poem 5:
Needed to use my body to move
I wore shoes without good treads but
I walked up this hill with tree roots and trail marks
Stood on the top of the king of the mountain
Saying I am the best in the world

Poem 6:
Heat on my skin from the outside
Been in the air, conditioned too long
I’ll miss this heat when green begets orange
But for now it’s just a place to avoid

Poem 7:
They won’t kill her yet
This dog, my dying dog
My brother he can’t bear to part
But she can’t hardly stand
He can’t hardly stand
So we’ll let her suffer for him

Poem 8:
How am I going to remember this summer?
What will be the memory I go back to
Or will it fall in line with the others
All blurred into general worry

Poem 9:
I won’t brush my hair
I will not make myself beautiful for you
That piece of hair is gonna stay there
I’ll muss it around without care
I don’t preen to be seen
My hair doesn’t care

Poem 10:
Well I saw Randy with another girl
Boy I always thought liked me
He looks better than
I wanted him to be
Made just for me forever