It’s ten thirty-three
and I’m sitting in the seat
of my nice red car
not drinking, not the bar.
I wish it was easier
than keeping it calmer,
the more advice I get – I give
The more I search for the will to live.
Grasping at straws trying to help
Sometimes I’m just angry and I yell.
Taking it easier and living it slow
changes my face as I move forward, grow old.
It’s not my age that makes a difference
It’s not the pain, it’s the helplessness.
I’ve got to give all I got to you,
to your sister and brother and your daddy too.
Flipping it, shaking it, sleeping it off.
I wish I could drink till my head spins off.
But, I am just spiraling now, out of control,
so I need to stay occupied, keeping my whole.
Don’t fret, don’t threat,
Don’t live and let die.
Be happy, not cross,
Don’t live and hide.
This life is a blessing
and you’ve got so much to give.
Learn to create and
to spread love and live.
wooosh she’s near
one step back
click and snap
fingers letting go of
closing doors that show no
cares for long goodbyes or bags
forgotten on the borderlines.
windows smudged with hearts and fears
reflecting past too close, too dear.
then coming from the car nearby
is strumming – no more tears, no cry,
which summons like that piper once
to follow waves of joy, of pleasure,
reaching in, relieving deadweight
freeing empty spaces aching.
stuck in chains chaining,
naval chord threatening.
screech screens screams.
swallow – choke.
here it goes…
these cycles go on and on and do not pass Go
these gentle genes that bind us tear me a- part my heart hurting. my ring his-and-my genes they matter most future hopes, dreams desires. Need some
clarity. (careless me…) ***after receiving thoughtful and helpful feedback: at dVerse Poetry Pub, Meeting the Bar: Critique and Craft – Approach notes. stressing the diverse and allowing for feel and improve are Claudia and Brian ~