Poetry

20.

I’ve stayed awake too long
too many times
not to close my eyes
before the hour of nine.
Wouldn’t that be something?
Like a wormhole to another dimension.
Dreams, usher me gently
to this new reality,
a waking paradise
where my eyes
feel sharp as arctic wind.
Good night, good morning,
I’ll see you when the sun is up,
probably way too high in the sky.

Standard
Poetry

19.

Taking one sock
off another sock
like peeling plastic off an orange,
but the fleshy pulp of the fruit
is so cold,
almost frozen,
so those extra layers are nice
and necessary,
’cause no one wants their feet to fall off.

One more weekend
doing work in the mountains
is checked off,
so it’s time to warm up
and
sleep.

Standard
Poetry

18.

Eyes so heavy from the
weight of overthoughts,
body so tired from the
standing work it’s got.
What is a break?
Is that when rest happens,
or when stress happens?
Does the mouth snack,
or do the bones crack?
Too many breaks breaks productivity,
no breaks breaks the spirit.
I like my spirit.
I’ma take a five, boss.

Standard
Poetry

17.

Just a few hours of quality time,
that’s all I need,
I’ll start now.

The short stroll to the kitchen
brings me within spotting distance
of the PS4,
and I know what one of those few hours will look like.
Ten minutes later, and I’m bawling on the couch,
with my weird reflection crying back at me,
our mouths twisted in grimaces
that dance into fleeting faux-smiles
as our lips prepare for more sad vocalization.

Have you ever watched yourself cry?
Do you ever wonder what your sadness looks like when you blow apart the dam
and let all that fluid rush out?

Sometimes all you need is a good cry,
I’ve heard it said.
It’s true.

Have you ever watched My Hero Academia?
Or anything that stirs your emotions?
Yes, I’ll admit
it:
I cried watching anime today.
There are these kids, see, and they have powers,
and they want so much to use their powers for good.
They’re learning to be heroes,
and the villains are real assholes,
so things get tense pretty fast.

I root for these kids.
I realize that I am older now,
there are lines on my face
and a growing bald spot on the top of my head,
but my heart yearns for good.

The soft sigh of a hug,
the quick clap of a high-five,
the unseen-yet-gooey warmth of a compliment that is earned,
so it seeps into your skin until it fuses with your bones,
and you feel
every tiny victory
in the lifelong war for competence.

I hunger for these feel-good moments,
and sometimes,
I get them from anime.
Other times they’re found in books.
But I swear,

I’m trying to find them

in real life too.

Standard
Poetry

15.

If space allowed sounds,
there’d be shouting,
clashing,
rushing of

blood

to vital organs,
can one still hear one’s thoughts out there?
Those inner workings
make their way to the surface of the skull
until
they’re outside,
and it’s not so
loud
any
more.

Listen

to the space inside,
and,
fill it to bursting.

Standard
Poetry

14.

I absolutely hate love the way
I think about everything, and I
worry hope that my brain
will drown dance in the myriad
shadows black pools of despair
glows from a thousand
beastly maws angelic eyes.
This fucking place fantastic world
strangles lifts me
until I cannot breathe any longer,
and I am weightless,
floating happy in the bright void.

Standard
Poetry

13.

The newness of things
gone away for a while,
the freshness of spring
when the sun starts to smile.

There is not much that is better
than rolling up the sleeves of my sweater
in the middle of winter.

I walk past the mailbox and grin,
then leap up the large steps to my apartment,
one hop-step for each,
and plan to take a stroll real soon.

Standard
Poetry

12.

I never thought I’d be
building a resume
but this is me,
recalling the work I’ve done
to make my way.
I can’t stop listening to Bush,
the band,
and I know the 90’s
won’t come back that way.
I’ll never be nine again,
but all these years later
I sort of think
I’ve been nine the whole way.

Standard