Bleeding Ink 1,604

There’s all these voices

I look around the room

I close my eyes

Some raise a glass

Expect me to just hate women

My phone blows up

“Look at this.”

“Go to therapy.”

“Take 4 years.”

Everyone has an opinion

I watch the room

I spent all those years

Doing what I thought was best

Buying flowers

Writing letters

Making dinner

Dances in the kitchen

I still didn’t do everything right, I guess

It’s not one persons fault

I won’t complain

I’m not going to cry in my beer

I’ve seen that

Too too many times

I watch the room

I feel nothing

I feel nothing at all

That’s the worst part

I don’t hurt

I’m not angry

I cannot possibly drink enough

And I feel nothing at all

“You know what you should do? You should go sniff and hit everything you can.”

But I feel nothing at all…

Only the blues

There’s an isolation inside

And I know

There’s going to be a morning

When the sun will rise

And I will only write

About that deep blue

That is her eyes

Just give it time

Even the sea is calm

At the darkest of the night

And I try to think

But the words can’t be found

And I try to drink

But there’s never enough

So I watch the room

And accept this too

This feeling – Nothing

Hoping I don’t become some kind of

Bitter southerner

That’s all

I don’t want to be hung up

I don’t want to be bitter

They expect me to just hate

But have you ever

Talked for hours with a woman

Danced without hesitation

Read until the morning

With her hand in your hand

And her head on your chest

There’s a thousand other intimacies

She gives you before you’re in her bed

I know this will pass

This feeling nothing

2020 #43

When I was younger

My neighbor planted these pear trees in his front yard…

They were attractive trees

The only problem was, every time the wind blew, they lost a limb or split down the middle.

I remember because that season we had tornadoes every Friday.

My dad had a cherry tree. He hated it. That same summer he tried cutting down.

It came back.

He tried pulling it up with his tractor.

But it came back.

Finally he cut it, and then burned it.

——

The night I had to go to the house and found my father had passed away…

I remember walking outside in the rain I looked over

And saw that the cherry tree was back…

I laughed, it had outlasted my dad.

——-

The pear trees looked better.

They didn’t take up space

And everyone loved them

But they were frail…

——-

I hope you’re like the cherry tree

I hope you’re resilient

I hope you fight tooth and nail for what you believe in… and for yourself

I hope you don’t give up what’s keeping you moving.

I want to be like that

For my health

For my life

For my art

Keep going

Take up space

Grow large

What else is there?

Bleeding ink 1,519

I read somewhere that if a man cares about you…you won’t ever have to wonder how he feels…

He will remind you.

So I was thinking about you…

And I hope you are good

I hope your days are good

I hope you find the love

That is slow and deep

So deep that you can’t feel the bottom

I hope it’s the champagne kind of love…

I hope you are reminded daily

Even when he isn’t there

She said something about the honeymoon being over

It isn’t supposed to last

It’s a marriage after all…

But marriage is an island babe.

If you don’t bring it,

You won’t find it here…

So bring it

Bring the champagne

Bring the slow dances

Bring the starry eyes

Bring the ties

The lipstick

The records

Whatever it takes

To make it through

Bring that

How else will they know?

That they’re the only thing you see

Across the room?

-regardingsamuel.com

Bleeding Ink 1,518

Time out of mind

My insides are stone

All I do is groan

What kind of love….she said

Cold hands

I’m free

But when the lights go down

When the traffic is tight

While I’m waiting

I still hear him

I still see him

Stomping

Yelling

Who knew

Marriage was war

——-

She feels herself slipping away

She sees him

And feels the blow from his words

The blow from his hands

That selfish way he demands

——

It’s a long way

Long way from home

She has that vacant stare in her eyes

Like a war vet

You know she’s reliving it

——

She’s praying for salvation

——

Hoping she can still touch things gently

There’s nothing left to see…

Nothing left to say

He may not hit you

But he may cut your off from your circle

He may cut you down

He may gaslight you

He may suddenly twist it

And make you feel like

Your feelings are invalid

He may sit down and portray a conversation

But it’s really just conditioning you

So you can go back to the way he needs you

He may be nice here

And over there

And those little moments feel so bright

Because they are so few and so far

——

What does it matter now

There’s barely light here now

I’m always reaching

But I can never find

Is there some way out

Some piece of me left?

Just buckets of pain

Buckets of rain

Cities on fire

I’m not even crying

Barely even trying

What’s the point

My heart broke some time ago …

Now there’s just

Flashes of colour

Flashes of pain

What is there left here to spare ?

2020 #36

Hard life

It’s in the turns

It’s in the life

He says in a few years he will be out of here ….

The road is open

We did what we could

While we were young

Highway 11 runs

it’s wild

It’s open

It keeps its secrets

Shadowed eyes

She knows she’s leaving

Why can’t you look at me that way

We did what we could

We both kept our secrets

All of our weapons hid

And

These days are long

Keep your eyes up

The highway is open

You keep walking

You keep breathing

You keep your hope by your side

Here we go again

Before you count what we’ve lost…

It’s in the turn …

Remember your light burns bright

All we have is right now

Right now

Now

It’s all we ever had

Beagle in the City #282

Francis: ugh I knew this would happen. You lost your job didn’t you?

Ethan: No, I’m on vacation.

Francis: So I still get snax?

Ethan: Yeah, you still get snax.

Francis: What are you going to do on vacation?

Ethan: I’m going to look at self publishing. You know , I was hoping I guess, that some publisher would notice my blog and publish that, but I’m just going to go ahead and start taking the initiative.

Francis: (coughs) ugh…I mean I don’t know to tell you this…but sure…your inspirational poetry is kind of really dark and heavy…I’m sure someone will buy it.

Ethan: Ooof. Hey, look who shared my post on Instagram…

Francis: Oh Wait…don’t tell me…Shakespeare?

Ethan: I’m never talking to you again.

2020 #34

Hey mister writer

Write a page for me

Tell me about these days

I have no words left to play

Her eyes leave me stumbling

Cut right through me

All I feel is hunger

We’re all just beggars in the street

Left wanting

And our lists are growing

But I see the sunset through the trees

I think I would be alright

With just one more drink tonight

If I could hear her laugh

And not to cry

If I could see those eyes

And open up my heart

Far past the smoke inside my mind

for this, her dagger…

Hey mister writer

Write a page for me

I’m left caught inside a muse

I’ll catch up to you

All I have is this hunger

The world is in its slumber

Maybe tomorrow will be kind ….

To the muse

To you

We will all have somewhere to go

In the sunset of my mind

The words will all align

And I’ll be there with you

2020 #32

Photo origin

Tenaciously sanguine rhapsodic

Aries

Your sign is on fire

She’s a little impatient

So just relax and breathe deep

She’s never going to be a repeat

She keeps moving

Keeps writing

She’s not napping

She’s still fighting TKO

Strap yourself in

It might not all be good

But it’s going to be great

She doesn’t come up last

She tears down the gates

She’s a legend in making

A legacy, wait,

Breathe deep

Get it together

We’ve never been here before

We’ll never be here again

More power

More movement

There’s fire

Just keep writing

Keep growing

Keep shedding

Keep swinging

Keep racing

It’s not over

——-

Keep your head up girl

It’s not over

Your legacy

Is only beginning

Photo origin