Category: 2020

Headstone

Look at all the things we did

To keep the demons gone …

And

I feel

That I’m wasting

This life

And the heart breaks

In the rain

Against the moon

And your green eyes

Made of Stone

And all these demons

In my mind

All these lives

I’ve hid behind

Praying

I might turn out to be something else…

But my shadow predicts

That I’m going to run out of time…

It’s the gut

It’s the pain

The insides

Turning to shame

These years

Worn thin

Trying to do the best you can

Takes its toll

When do you get to lie down

Just to rest

I guess it’ll be my head against the stone

On the Importance of being

Is poetry important right now?

Is it relevant?

Did the ’90s have it right?

Is God dead?

Why even bother?

How do I write or create and give proper representation to everyone…

Can it even be done?

—-///

Look at the Sistine chapel

The creation of Adam

What if we all stopped and froze

What if there were no German poets?

Because they halted their breath after WWII?

You have to speak

You have to be brave enough

To look at yourself

Look at the world you walk through

And make notes

—///

And he took him a potsherd to scrape himself with; and he sat down among the ashes.

-Job 2:8

Job didn’t have a pastor, a minister, a doctor or a psychiatrist. He didn’t have anything, his family were dead, his livestock dead, his wife was unkind. She told him to curse God and die. in an effort to give him some relief. And ease his suffering.

But he said

“I can’t, I know too much, I’ve seen too much, I can’t go back…”

He scraped his boils with pottery…

To give some relief….

—////

Art,poetry,creating is important because it is what we live for…

It’s the colours of living. It’s life…

You’re unique, you stand out, you view the world separately and differently, there is only one you.

We’re not supposed to fit in.

Or be like anyone else…

That’s why history has those few remnants, those that create.

They look at the world and they make notes and they write what they see.

Fb, apps, algorithms?

If you’re waiting for it to be safe…

To discern truth for you?

You’ll die waiting…

These things are not the truth tellers…

That’s me and you…

It’s up to us to discern what is truth…

I’ll say it again…

All of this fake and false and upsetting and black clouds and thunderstorms and the future is dead and god is dead and we have to remake everything so it’s perfect and there is no hurt hearts or shocked eyes?

It’s not real.

Too much perfection is a mistake

It’s up to us to discern truth

What we see and what we read

We Create

We speak

We build a better tomorrow

Because we live through and in today

All the algorithms

Will always be just that

An algorithm

A process

A highway

For Information

But it’s up to us

To drive it

And discern the navigation

Like a library

—-

So yes

Poetry

Art

Life

Is always in the now

Right here

Right now

It’s so important

It’s you

It’s our hearts

It’s vital

To our existence

So go

Create

Live

Be bold

If you make mistakes

It’s ok

That’s just life

We grow

We live

But do not stand in fear …

We can’t go back

We’ve seen too much

We’ve lived through too much

And this art

This art is for everyone

There’s room for every heart.

-E

The 40 hour work week

– why won’t she talk to me? I don’t understand…we had so much in common and now she’s just disappeared again! She comes and goes and I don’t know what to do…

I watched as my friend continued this emotional rollercoaster holding her face in her hands, blaming herself, hating herself, for simply caring or opening up…

-Listen,

I said

– you may never get the closure you want or feel that you need. And you have to be ok with that. Some people, go through people. When they’re bored, or lonely, or missing something…some people get easily distracted and just lose track….they have tunnel vision. When it’s on you it’s great. When it’s not it’s cold…

I don’t know what to tell you, it’s really up to you. What are you going to be ok with? We all work. We all have lives. It takes 3 seconds to send a message. Are you worth three seconds?

(Our other friend waved his hands in the air agreeing.)

– you know,

He started his own soap box of psycho babble

– it’s in what you give. I always give a lot of cash and attention

I stopped him

– Your girlfriend didn’t fall in love with you because of your presents, I don’t know, maybe she did, maybe she didn’t…but she also left you….

She fell for you because you gave her your attention

You let her know when you were thinking about her

You let her know even though you were busy, you were working, that you were still thinking about your queen.

You valued her…

The presents were just a plus and then you stopped and you got lazy after you got her and she left

Because she knew what you were capable of and she knew what she was worth…

You have to dance with people

And you have to let them know you care

And you have to make your mind up

What are you going to be able to live with?

Half hearts ?

Mediocre

Or are you going to show up

Say what you feel and mean

But have a standard to it

(He just stared at me)

– anyway it’s the presents, you have to buy your way in.

(Stop man just stop.)

– I don’t know what is right or wrong

People want to be craved, they want to be desired, they want to be fought over and pursued. And some people get so used to looking for something better and all the choices that they forget someone may not pick them or chase them and they just go through people. Or they can’t make a decision at all.

They freeze

I don’t know

It’s really up to you

But you can’t make her mind up yourself

You can only make yours

What are you going to be able to live with?

(She stared at the floor)

– I don’t know, I’m not sure….everything hurts.

Verses (translated)

the year feels eternal
the solitude
echoes through the emptiness inside this heart
I'm trying to write to you
I try not to hold on to things
to fill the void
but just be
be here now
maybe the saints were alone
maybe the martyr
maybe none of us are perfect
maybe we can just be good ...
let me be good
and relieve the pain somewhere
and leave someone better so
no one feels what I feel ...
and know
please know
that when my eyes or my thoughts see you
they only see you
not an illusion
and there is poetry ...

Tomorrow’s star

My body aches

I feel older than I should

I remember a world before all of this

Social media

Smart anything

Terrorism

Politics

If you feel overwhelmed

Remember the good

If you’re reading on this night or any other ….

Look how brightly the stars shine

I always find answers or at least some comfort

when I look at the stars….

They never ask

Is it safe?

Is the world ready for me?

Am I bright enough?

They just are….

-Ethan Bethune

In my head

She said

It was a shame

We can’t change the news

My poetry is bad

And

I think we all are gonna die soon

We try so hard just to rep

What we can’t sell

We try so hard

And we

Can’t even live with ourselves

And I said

Shit

And she said

“I bet you could be the best I ever had

But I don’t even touch myself.”

And

All of my nightmares

They come true in neon

And I dreamed Toni Morrison made me a carrot cake

Told me I had to rep myself

If I don’t who will?

And maybe we try too hard

And maybe I work too much

And maybe I really am a loser

And maybe

Just maybe

All of our hearts broke

So long ago

On a dream

In a car

Chasing stars

Hoping for a life

And she said

I was so easy to tattoo

I never complain

And I said

It’s an art

And taking pain is easy

When you realize you’re already dead

But deep inside

If you knew

I feel like I deserve the pain

I keep seeing you get angry

I keep seeing you scream

I keep seeing you

I close my eyes

The heart can heal

But damn

I can’t change the news in my head….

It’s in my head….

Blue County

On the south end of town
My parents they live
And a girl that I once knew, I thought well.
We all grew up
And we swore we would get out
Now we only live maybe an hour away…
And he said, standing there proud, that he wouldn’t have any reason to stay, now she’s pregnant again…and he’s working three jobs, but the plague struck down, his dreams in this town , all the start ups shut down and full time turned into half a day shifts on each side of town cooking chickens….

Now they complain
That we don’t have a reason
For the pain that we feel
And we work twice as hard
To build up a self esteem and an ego that Christ said to crucify ….
And you’re left alone
And the winter is strong
You barely have enough heat
You’ve turned to the kerosine
And we both know you’ve been drinking….

But what is left for tomorrow
Can you ever think straight ?
Can you pray to escape the habits that are your origin….

To hustle and cuss
To hide and to limp
To work and to die
To live and to lie
To doubt and to hide
Such great pain
But to sleep by the side
Of the bleeding saint

Into the sun

When I was growing up, my dad had a service station, and he would have it open 7 days sometimes 6 days a week. We would get up at 2:30 in the morning.

My brother and I would stay up all night watching old super man and Batman shows on vhs. So we were pretty much useless. I remember there were years my dad was in a bad mood or depressed and then he would get this obsession with church and be in a better mood for a while.

I think about these things a lot now, because even though I was getting up and setting up produce stands on the die of the road back then…

I feel like I understand a little better now,

Working six days a week

Getting up at 2am

Feeling like I never have enough time

Wondering if all I do is obsess over things or ideas or people

Trying to learn the difference between an emotional reality

And a physical reality

Having crohns is weird

Because it doesn’t care

Your body just checks out

I’ve been in pain for three days

And I just keep ignoring it

But I feel like I’m just becoming my father

And I keep shaking it off ….

I keep walking forwards

I have a goal

I have a plan

I have to make it

But what is a dream if it doesn’t come true?

And what am I if I look straight through?