Tag: Poem

Rewatching the Stand

by sidcorvid
Joan Cornella is one of my heroes.
Joan Cornella is one of my heroes.

Remembering childhood,
While lying next to the woman who haunts my dreams.
Anxiety pervades this otherwise beautiful moment.

Though she sleeps,
My childhood habits return.
I rub her shirt between two fingers.

I remember once, as a child.
The anxiety pierced
as my nightmare plagued mother cried, ‘Help’

I remember I took her drowsy hand,
And pretended to run in that sickly bed.
As if my chubby, kicking legs could save her from her demons.

As this beauty squirms in my arm,
I know I won’t run with her,
But stand for her.

Ahhhhhh

by sidcorvid

He stands at the border,
Bored and preparing to board
The B-Train into my unconscious.

He sees my thoughts, dreams,
of violent death, and the extent of its pain,
And death by disease, with all its dishonor.

I don’t know who He is,
And I don’t know why he’s watching,
But I think I’ll welcome him in.

I think I’ll brew a pot of decaf,
Just to disappoint his weary eyes.
I think that’d be nice.

Me and him,
We’ll have a comedy of manners
Within my comedy of errors.

This shade knows what’s best,
And won’t allow for pesky pleasantries.
He’s oft of the violent sort.

Someday, he will lay my bowels
Before my eyes,
And set ticks on my eyelids.

We know our fate,
We see what is to be,
And for now, he’ll keep me in my sleep.

picture found on facebook
picture found on facebook

 

I wrote this while listening to The Rainbow Connection

by sidcorvid

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Hail to the lovers,
Those that have found
What we all seek.
Those who can share
And show where they’re most weak.

Hail to the dreamers,
Envisioning, creating
Our children’s plox.
Facing the storm of our fears,
But instead see the freedom of the flocks.

Hail to me,
A wanderer aspiring
To the one-eyed king.
To whom guidance comes
Via the Raven’s wing.

Pleasant Thoughts are Unhealthy

by sidcorvid

Not my normal style, but I think this soliloquy turned out pretty well… 

I knew that getting this chump to believe that it had been a busy couple of days would be harder than getting the itch from under my sock. I had to be smooth as a bottle of cough syrup smuggled out of Walmart. I had to be quick as a whippet.

I didn’t have time for it though. I had pills to pop and adult alternative to blast. I had memories of wrongs to replay. The night was long enough without this sad pup biting at my ankles.

Playing it off nonchalantly, I excused myself under the guise of writing. Easy as that, he was gone. Maybe he was easy to get rid of than this fucking itch. I think I’m starting to scratch myself raw.

‘Blood’s cheap though, it’ll be back. CSF would be an entirely different story though. Thank god I only gave her my heart, and kept my spine intact,’ I mused not so gently, begging for sleep, a relief from the waking nightmare and a journey into a nightmare that I can control.

Sleep wouldn’t come for a while. I had too many failures to relive. I had to reflect on how I haven’t hiked in two years, or seen my dad in seven months. I just laid there, covering myself in thin blankets breathing through a face hole.

Moments like those I almost miss the security of childhood, the security of knowing all the answers and having a mother for everything else.

Sleep was creeping in, weighting my eyebrows. I braced myself for what was to come. Would it be ticks on eyeballs? Would it be failing as a man? Would I lose everything?

I am pretty sure that night I was a monster.

Jewels

by sidcorvid

A vicious cycle it is,

Being broken

And breaking so many more.

I know their pain

And I don’t care.

You are the Graff pink,

While they are simple emeralds.

They’ll live

And find someone, someday,

Who will love green.

As for me,

I can only have you,

And I’ll throw infinite emeralds into the mud

Just to hold you,

If only for a moment longer.

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A poem for Georgia the cockatiel

by sidcorvid

A poem for Georgia the cockatiel

Days like today,
Remind me of the past.
Warmth of the cold
A love I hope will last.
You fear I will not answer,
Upon your fearful call.
I would simply die,
If I ever hurt you at all.
I would end others’ to protect yours.
I would die without you.
I fear for you as I fear for myself.
Daily, I fight to get over you.
You are stuck like a wrench in a cog.
My mind will always come back to you.
The fact that you called,
Shows me you feel the same.

Heylel

by sidcorvid

Heylel

A Dadaist concept
Of a ti-82
Floats behind my sclera.

The insomniac’s struggles
As evening approaches
Are overtaken by my autonomicals.

Dark comforts,
The birds take their jurist roles,
As I break and nap.

Waking minutes later
To the benzocaine burn
Of my freshly numbed cold sore.

I tap my feet,
Fantasizing in the surreal,
Wanting to create.

In this meditative state,
I realize the next step is coming,
And I must take its course.

Dear John

by sidcorvid

Dear John

Dear John,
I’ve seen the rain,
Too much, perhaps.

At first, it calms,
But I miss the stars.
Nothing worse than a black sky.

On those nights I think.
I write, I paint.
But I don’t sleep.

Eventually the black turns grey,
As my part of earth
Turns towards the sun once again.

That’s when I go out
For my morning cigarette,
And see the worms haven’t slept either.

I rarely give them thought.
Dodging them on the asphalt,
Keeping my bare feet clean.

They saw the rain,
And lost everything,
And I give them no thought.

Oh, John.
Have you seen the rain?
Grass turned to mud?

I think you have,
But you watch the fresh grass grow.
You look at the clearing and the humid sun.

You light your cigarette,
And dodge the worms,
Giving them no thought.

You smile at the new day,
While I’m stuck in the storm.
I envy you.