Tag Archives: ten poems in twenty minute

10 Poems in 20 Minutes (3-19)

4:03 p.m.

I prided myself today.
On me.
On the fact that, as of now,
I haven’t killed myself yet.
I survived me.
I’ve survived me for years,
I’ll be ok, I’ll keep being ok,
Ok here in my head,
With just me,
If I’ve lasted this long.

We’re going to have to crate her.
The red fawn beautiful runner,
Beautiful dog, who they rescued
With pride-filled rescuing hearts.
She can’t keep doing this much damage.
Or at least we’re going to have to lock her in the room.
We can’t give her back, you know, it’s not like you can give a child back,
They’re not a bad cup of soup.
So we’re going to trade her old box for a new, shiny new, cage.
That way she’ll fit in here.
She’ll fit in with her beautiful hair.

She speaks now with a lisp
From her fake tooth
To stop the infection that was under the gum,
That she was convinced was killing her.
She has to talk on the phone with that voice.
I have a laughing pity.
My favorite kind of emotion,
For the woman I’m not sure I grudgingly hate.

Woman of wisdom, believer in spirits.
She tells me she thinks the human auras parted the red sea,
After she briefs me on her latest case brought to trial.
She’s the mother who always had to do it the hard way.
Wouldn’t let her kids define her, control her, or let herself resent them.
So she put her first, for better and worse,
She lives with the guilt, of missing what she missed of me.

I’ve planned what I’ll say when he dies.
Not because I can’t wait for him to die, but because sometimes I use him,
To find a way to cry.
And he always loved a good speech.

Tell me I’m pretty.
That’s all I need to hear today.
Don’t say: you’re gorgeous,
My girl, my honey, mine.
Don’t tell me what you love me more than;
Tell me how your feelings look today.

You’re in such a beautiful box.
I know what you’re going to say next,
I know for sure how this story I’ve heard before will end.
You’ve told me before.
I’ve heard already,
And I have safe love for what will happen later.

I met her for coffee.
Just outside this great little place she found.
I took her as she was,
As I saw her,
As she showed herself to me.
I remembered I’m good with people,
If I try, I’m so very good,
It’s a switch I flip,
I know.
To be charming, and lovely, and not quite me, in the light.
But that one has good friends, and people who love her,
And she cares to try.

Good people.
Good as in solid, strong, and right.
Righteous goodness.
They have solid bones, and solid minds,
And like good people, they keep their twists to themselves.

I don’t want to let this grudge go.
I want to keep it,
And feed it spitfires, so it keeps burning, to keep me angry.
Because when I’m angry I can’t be mad at myself.
It’s lovely there, with righteous anger. It’s so great.
And I can think of all these reasons to hate, all these reasons they’re wrong,
These reasons I won’t share. That make me feel better.
And what am I going to do without my martyred, middle child self?
What will be left of me?
Happiness for fools. Give me my sinners cynicism and dark giggles.
I’ll know where I stand, and I’ll know where my lines are,
And I’ll understand where they come from unsympathetic, unloving, happy.

10 Poems in 20 Minutes (Day Twelve)

Day twelve? I must have miscounted.

10 Poems in 20 Minutes
Day 12

Poem 1:
Coercion breeds hatred and self-loathing
She didn’t ask
She told
I want to stand in the rain to wash myself off from this taint
This degradation of being told what to do

Poem 2:
One day, some day, I’ll be whole, fresh, and new
Shiny and sparkly
I’ll be glitter and trumpets
Smiles and eye crinkles and true
Not this sticky

Poem 3:
I ate lunch with fat people
Who were conscious about what they ate
Because I could see them
Not alone
They watched to see how much was left on the other’s plates
I’ve never felt small in comparison
And I hate that I felt good for being less fat
I left the extra piece of bacon on my plate

Poem 4:
Damn cut doesn’t heal on my inside middle finger
So I wash it
And dry it
And package it with Vaseline
The band-aid wraps around
I hold myself in that way
Plastic skin colored adhesive – bound up in blue boxes marked for healing
Only my skin doesn’t get me any extra padding

Poem 5:
Beige, my greyhound lounges all across the carpeted floor
I have to lunge to get past her
Each time I stop to make sure her ribs move
I wait an extra second to check
I don’t show the same nicety to homeless people on the street

Poem 6:
When I feel bad for laughing
Which is every time I smile
I wonder
How far have I fallen that I have to catch myself from smiling?
My teeth stay behind guarded lips behind a hand behind my hair

Poem 7:
I told myself I couldn’t sleep
So I read instead, and finished the book
The whole 334 pages
Hoping with each clock glance I’d be ready for sleep
I didn’t want to be awake today
So I made myself a cup of sleepy brain

Poem 8:
I was so civil at lunch that it accidentally carried over to the car ride home
Glum quietness forgotten with the rush of personal interaction
All it takes to make me happy

Poem 9:
My high letters have nothing to do with my mother
She brings me self-shame
It was my father
Who scared the word of God into me if I threw away any semblance of improvement
Building upon what he expected I did what I was told
And now I cry for not moving any blocks
All my alphabet squares rest on the ground spelling out wisps of misery
Enough shame to build a house on
Founded in caring

Poem 10:
Every once in a flicker
I see this semblance of high thought in this bulk sitting next to me
Hoping for a moment that he will think about being a good man
A good man for him

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