PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I'm feeling sentimental.

Watching afternoon movies

Alone.

Examining

The hero's purpose.

Contrasting it

To my own.



Day to day.

Travelling with

Limited vision.

Walking

Spotlit

And talking

Jargon

To the floor.



My metaphors

Are only

Half-assed observations

Adorned with

Better clothes

And spoken

In the comfort

Of the dark.



Real poems for

Unreal times

Are what I offer

The mime:

A kind of comfort

Knowing that he cannot speak

The lies

That render us weak

But will always listen.

So somebody

Must've heard me..



And I'd like to think

By missing school today

I came to be

Closer to God.

It may be odd

But I think he invited me home

For breakfast

And a movie.



*******************



          "SIT DOWN FOR BREAD.

           TODAY YOU ARE MINE."



He told me to grab a chair

And enjoy

The villain's antics

For they were crucial

To the point

He had to illustrate.



          "NOTE HIS MOVEMENT

           INTO SIN, CHILD

           FROM THE COMFORT OF YOUR COUCH.

           HE MAY NOT BE THE MOST DEVOUT

           BUT HERE'S TO POTENTIAL."



And I saw..

Oh god, a smile came to me

When I saw

That against my intuition

I liked the scoundrel somewhat later

Knowing he was hero

In another land.

That his dreams came to fruition

As he extended his hand

Before he died...



          "THEY ALWAYS GET WHAT'S COMING

          BUT SOMETIMES IT'S THE ONLY THING

          THAT KEEPS THEM FROM RUNNING."



For the first time

I watched

Past the cliches

And impossible set-ups.

Through the make-up

And uppity get-ups.

And saw the real:

Heaven and Hell

Through motion picture reels.



          "DON'T EVER LET THEM TELL YOU

           THE BOOK IS BETTER:

           MY PAGES ARE SCATTERED.

           AND EVERYTHING YOU SEE

           IS A MANIFESTATION OF ME.

           LET THE HARDCOVER TREASURE

           BE THEN A GUIDE

           ON HOW TO INTERPRET

           THE DIRT

           AND DISABLE THE MINES."



A pang of me ensued:



   "I'm not sufficient to carry you.

   There's no weight

   Too small

   For my hypocrit shoulders.

   Feathers, my father,

   Become like boulders."



          "SELFISH, INDEED.

           A WAY TO ESCAPE

           ALL THE PEOPLE IN NEED

           OF YOUR LIGHT."



   "But I am not functioning right.

   I deceived an angel for countless nights

   And put foolish ideas

   In strangers.

   Try as I might

   I beg you,

   Faith in me

   Is the gravest danger."



          "STOP SECOND-GUESSING.

           I'M NOT TELLING YOU

           TO CONTINUE

           IGNORING YOUR BLESSINGS.

           GRANTED, MY GIRTH

           CAN CRUSH YOU TO BONES

           IF YOU LIFT WITH YOUR MUSCLES

           AND NOT YOUR SOUL."



"I don't know

I feel like spreading your word

From my lips

Is as foul as it goes.

How can a little girl sip

From my tainted wine?"



          "I AM NOT ASKING BLASPHEMY:

           FOR YOU TO BE ME.

           ONLY TO BASK IN ME

           AS ONE OF MY

           COUNTLESS CHILDREN

           WHO ONE DAY WILL SEE ME."



"Your children are beautiful.

Yet we hurt

Each other

As if stemmed

From different trunks.

Branching off and breaking

The further we stray

From the base."



          "SHOW ME YOUR FACE.

           IT IS SMITTEN

           WITH WORRY AND WEIGHT.

           BUT IS IT COMPARABLE

           TO MINE?

           THE EMBODIMENT OF SUFFERING!

           THE UNSELFISHLY DIVINE!"



"Father forgive me.

For I have made even Sin himself

Look pale

As the holy ghost.

This life is temporary

And I abandoned you

When you reached for me most.

Even now, I write of you

Merely in context of what I think

You would say."



          "BUT REMEMBER

           YOU ARE NOT STEERING

           THE CONVERSATION

           ANY WHICH WAY

           WITHOUT MY HAND."



"It's only appropriate

You would have

The final word

Spoken through me.

Amen."