Poems from My Day (10-29)

Give me a holler, if you’ve got one to share. A poem a mean. Not whatever you were thinking of.

1:
I would like to complain about my work,
But I won’t.
Because they could find me.
And because I’m no longer free to speak my mind.
Or rather.
I’m no longer brave enough to speak my mind.

2:
I’m in the zen state of tired-ness.
When the patterns on quilts become difficult logic puzzles
Requiring all you attention
And the swirls milk makes in the tea
Becomes the most interesting thing in the world.
And I can’t remember my last sentence.
Or if I’m inappropriate.
I want sleep and warm.

3:
I decided after I stopped religion,
I wanted to still be a good person.
So I read some Kant, and a bit of ‘stotle
And I try.
I had to find meaning somewhere with something rather.
But damn, do I miss the simplicity of church.

4:
I don’t like, well, a lot of people.
Women who won’t admit when they’re wrong.
People without senses of humor.
Who are careless with their friends.
Those who expect a certain response
Who punish you when you don’t show it.
And who look a hell of a lot like me.

5:
A woman told me today, you have to be suspicious of people,
You have to be suspicious of people who don’t drink,
And don’t swear.
What kind of place do I live in my head,
Where I can’t stand up and say something,
To something like that?
If it were a joke,
If I were in power,
If I was faster and wittier and smarter and superman.
I should have called it.
What a terrible thing to say.

6:
I talked with my sister a bit about feminism.
Why can’t women get roaring drunk without something being wrong
Why can’t we be confrontational and still delicate
How come we’re not allowed to make a scene
Why do we have to worry about this
What did my mother tell me to make this barrier?
The barrier to not caring about me appearing flowery.
Why do my ducks have to be a row before I’ll call someone on their piggishness?
Maybe we’re just shy north of the Ohio river to get away with it.

7:
I want to tell my friend, out loud, in a public place, with witnesses galore,
That I don’t believe in love and thunderbolts and – I saw her across the rooms,
To tempt fate,
To give me someone to love.

8:
I knocked over a plant with my elbow
Off the windowsill and onto the floor.
And the dirt spilled on the fluffy beige, putzy carpet.
That was two days ago.
I look at the dirt,
I don’t pick it up,
I don’t make plans to pick it up.
I just keep looking at it.

10 Poems in 20 Minutes (Day Ninety-Seven)

Oh man, guys, I tried to write some love poems today. I thought, hey I’ve never written love poems, I should try, these are the results, well, you’ll see.

I Wrote 10 Poems in 20 Minutes
Day 97

Poem 1:
I will love you till the end of time
And my bones will go on loving you
You are in my bones now
For all the love you’ve given me.
And at this point in her lovely speech,
The scientist comes in,
Usually I can suppress him when I’m talking flowers, and hearts, and souls
But this time,
Not so much.
What do you mean your bones will love me?
Those are inanimate objects and totally gross now that you’re dead,
And what if you die first,
Are you going melt the flesh off the bones and send them to me?
Here take these with you to carry around,
That way I can love you from the grave.
And how am I in your bones?
What you didn’t get enough calcium as a child
And now you’re stealing mine?
Where’s your big damn needle to draw out some marrow,
Huh?
Go ahead take it, take my bones and put them in yours
I hope you get blood positioning from me.

Poem 2:
I want him to tell me,
It is only you I’ve loved
I have loved you as long as I’ve known you
You’re perfect the way you are.
But really, I mean,
Even if you convince me to marry you,
Somehow,
I guess your juggling is kinda cool,
We’ll just end up getting a divorce
And I’ve seen so many divorces,
Oh my god,
They never end well,
And what like half of all marriages end that way now
Jesus
So before I move in with you, because I’m not sure what else
To do with this life and empty hands,
I’m putting my name in all my book covers
So that you can have my flowers, and soul, and chocolates
But you’re not getting my damn nice copy of the collected works of W.H. Auden.

Poem 3:
I’m so tired of this shit.
Really, so very,
To borrow the new common phrase,
I can’t even
I’m glad that you’re upset I really am
For once, you’re upset and I don’t care
I really don’t
I’ve done nothing wrong
You
You alone made you all this upset.
It wasn’t me.
You imagined this whole scenario
Then didn’t even bother to tell me you’re upset.
You can deal with it yourself
I’m going to get some over priced hot chocolate
Just to get out of this damn house.

Poem 4:
That first boy I dated,
You know what he said
Oh man, this was so funny
He said, I like the way you say something is funny
Instead of laughing.
I just looked at him
As he was inching closer to me,
And I thought, god this guy is fucking weird.
I was only saying that’s funny, because I wanted to acknowledge
You made a joke
But not actually laugh.

Poem 5:
I love you as a rose loves a thorn
I find you necessary for my survival
And protection from big bad things that would eat me
But most of the time you’re just
Annoying.

Poem 6:
Oh, could this be love?
I think it might have finally arrived
I waited and waited
I listened to that 60s song about not hurrying love
And waiting
Or whatever
And finally something is stirring my heart
No wait, I think that’s just the burrito I got for dinner
Way too much hot sauce
Like I thought maybe I was overdoing at the time
But man does it kill now
My heart, my heart.
Someone help me.

Poem 7:
Oh man, so much, I’ve waited for you to notice me
To single me out
Find a reason to be with me,
Just me,
But now I’m pretty sure,
Well, wait, no, maybe,
Yeah no, very sure,
That you think I’m a nuisance.
That’s ok, at least you know I’m alive,
And I got to have a whole love affair
All in my mind,
It was so great,
You were so nice,
Did you know you were there?
No?
Well you were, and I loved you so much,
It was almost like you were real.

Poem 8:
I find myself staring at you
When no else is around
Just to see what you’ll do next
And I don’t realize I’m staring.
A novel I read once,
Or maybe it was the cover of a magazine at the grocery store,
Said that being drawn into his eyes means that you’re starting to fall,
Really, though, that’s a bit much,
I just find your lazy eye fascinating.

Poem 9:
You told me, once,
I’m so ugly
And I think you were waiting for me to contradict you
To say, no I think you’re handsome
And so strong, and this gesture would be accompanied by a shoulder stroke
Or something out of a Arthurian tale,
But instead, I just nodded,
It’s true, you’re pretty ugly,
But I don’t mind,
I don’t prefer handsome or ugly guys.

Poem 10:
I can’t make a decision without wondering what you’d say
I have to wait on all my big purchases to ask you first,
My love, my heart,
Oh my love, what do you think about this brand of butter?
Or should I go for the organic?
I really want to respect the cows out there.
My dear, should I take 11th street or Lake Drive to get there faster?
Really, it’s like I can’t make a decision myself, almost like
I’ve been waiting my whole life to never have to make a decision again.