Archive for the Poetry Category

“Under”-standing

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , on May 11, 2017 by bigtuna185

I am substitute
I am somehow lesser
I have more ambition and greater passion
And somehow I am lesser
I replace, I fill in, I take up space
I am matter but I don’t seem to matter
I am required to be more flexible
To take more abuse
Receive less respect
Settle for less fulfillment
And yet what separates me
Other than the thought that I am more while being treated like less
Is a plastic ID badge
A better paycheck
Facial recognition amongst people who don’t care to know me
I grind and scrape myself away
Sharing thoughts and emotions
With an audience that will forget me a moment later
Washing their memories like the tide claiming footprints in the sand
There is one fact that I won’t let myself forget though:

I am substitute
But they will not drag me below who I was meant to be

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Conditioning

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on April 6, 2017 by bigtuna185

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Someone once said to me
“Marriage is a heavy burden”
That to wear a ring is a weight,
Not something to be taken lightly
And that may be true
The trials of matrimony
Were never meant to be simple
When you fuse two souls together
Pain is part of the process
Pieces of yourself die off
No longer able to be sustained
When your systems need to be redirected
In order to compensate for two being one

We are Siamese now

To support only one is to destroy both
And so it helps to imagine that we were always this way
To condition yourself into thinking this is normal
Until the muscles and thoughts become second nature
And the lactic acid build up from carrying this extra weight
Subsides and dissipates into new strength

The band around my finger no longer feels foreign
The smooth metal which used to constrict
Now feels as though it is vital
That I might not truly live without it

It is Life
And so is she

The Siren’s Lullaby

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on September 23, 2016 by bigtuna185

*This was my first attempt at ever trying to write a sonnet in its true traditional form. It was a process, but an enjoyable one.*
  
If only there were other ways to stay

In close proximity for sleeping eyes. 

A cushion left behind, indeed it cries, 

“Come home to me, for I will soon repay

Your company with shelter from the day.”

The bitter sun, with golden hands it pries

My slumber and rest, unwillingly dies. 

This forceful torture makes this poet crazy. 
However, there is more than just this plight. 

This life alone is built for greater things. 

I can’t bemoan my weak and wearied state

While people daily defy their twists of fate. 

For privilege remains common and trite

To those whose only problems are alarm rings.  

 

Wash your Hands

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 3, 2016 by bigtuna185

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All we are is mud and I don’t always feel dirty

With the caked dirt falling from off of my hands

I am falling off of myself

Every day rising out of filth is a new day to wash myself

I am a part of the earth and the earth is in me

Pushing me out of my cocoon

Metamorphosis ripping the old me to shreds

Organs and bones shifting

My exoskeleton keeping me from harm

Please don’t touch my wings for I want to fly someday

Soaring over mountains and valleys and landfills and sumps

Rolling around the grass with childlike ignorance of all that is coming

What is coming, I don’t know

But they’ve told me it’s bad

Unless you’re good

Then it’s good

But there’s no measurement of good to keep you from the bad

And of course I am dirty and so I don’t want to be dirty when the bad things

Wait, I mean the good things, come my way

And it’s so hard to be clean when everyone else doesn’t want to be clean

The faucet is drip drip dripping down the drain

Keeping me awake at night and I can hear humanity drowning drop by drop

And all I can think about is the mud on my hands and the blood in my veins

And the blood on my hands and the mud in my veins

Because you can’t escape the curse of your ancestry and so we would all be doomed

If it wasn’t for His blood shed for my muddled affairs

We are all blind as the clay has hardened around our eyes

We try to mold our own destiny and shape our lives the way we think is best

But we have cut off our own hands

And we have no feeling

So we die

Song of Myself

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 4, 2016 by bigtuna185

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When I think of the groanings of the earth
And how she murmurs and whispers life that springs up
Through the firmament, cracks and fissures
Tectonic plates shifting beneath my feet in constant change as I am
I wonder at the sameness of it all
About how I too can split apart at the seams
Continents drifting, Pangaea lost
The world forever changed
About how earthquakes cause tremors along the fault lines of the heart

I stoop down to pick up the pieces
The tiny trinkets that make up me
That have fallen out of their proper place
And try to rearrange them so that they won’t be so easily moved
But I might as well try to chop down trees so that they won’t be destroyed
And store them away somewhere safe
While ironically being the cause of their demise
For you see if you want to be safe then you must accept a loss of control

Safe is not always best.

Roots must be allowed to spread in unsafe places
Dangling off of cliffs
Dangerously tethered to unstable ground
Should the foundation fail
The seed will still spread
And most likely in better soil

I cannot live life tying things down
Hoping that things will not shift out of place
When the world moves, so do I
And we have both learned to live with it

Need vs. Want

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , on May 3, 2016 by bigtuna185

*Author’s note: Also done collectively with my high school poetry class.*

I don’t want to function
I don’t want to laugh
I don’t need to laugh
We don’t need to laugh
We don’t need laughter
We will need laughter
We will need inspiration
We will be inspiration
We can be inspiration.

Sunrise, Sunset

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on May 3, 2016 by bigtuna185

*Author’s note: This was collectively written by myself and my high school poetry class. An experimentation of sorts with word association and the poetic form.*

The sun rises and sets
The mood rises and sets
The mood rises and sways
The mood collapses and sways
The mood collapses and crawls
Every mood collapses and crawls
Every hope collapses and crawls
Every hope collapses and dies
Every hope rises and dies.