Random Emo-Poems

Kidney Stones

Aren't brilliant like diamonds
You don't wish or worry with them
Like pocket stones,
They don't blaze a sapphire star
Or reflect the moon's glow.
These stones are unable to
Build a wall.
Or be mined from a quarry
Michelangelo cannot choose one
To look deep inside to find the David.
They are unworthy of a verse.

No, the kidney stone that's tearing me apart
Is a flake, minuscule, cowardly.
Worthless as anything
But an agent of torture.
Dust from a heartless god
That on waking tossed this at you
Reminder of your impertinence
The insignificance of you.
Irritant in a cosmic shoe,
Felled by a speck humorously called
A "stone."


Ode To Joy

I haven't talked to my brother in a year
And it doesn't feel so painful or sad.
Well no more painful or sad than how it was,
Nor does it feel particularly depressing.
Not to hear from someone (who knows you are in a hospital),
Or felled by illness. This seems my normal kind of relationship
This a brother that I tried to silently support for 40 years.
It actually feels like I've been tossed away
Like a used tissue or a peanut shell.

When I set a limit on the funds I could send
And couldn't accept the blame anymore
For the things 40 years old I had no control over,
Couldn't find ways to hold and hear his angers
Or agree with the justifications
For self destruction as revenge in "our case".
He apparently decided that I'm not worth his time
(My father concluding the same in my teens.)

It seems that the movie has ended.
Then you just walk out in the light
Disoriented.


Chelsea Mourning

We had a fight because I didn't care anymore
felled by pain and bloody urine

Because I wanted to be talked to directly
See if I'd be cared for, laughed at, taunted, made fun of for feelings of exclusion, and lesser worth, derided on intellect or not be treated as an equal, simply channeled and managed.
Be put in a compartment. I wanted to know so I tested and it was combative.

If I was in my mind form we'd go arm and arm.
But now we are locked in a wrestling match.


Ice Bath

Ran the shower
Distracted
by my eyebrows talking
Bright lights blaring
In a late night attempt to hush crawling itchy skin.

Stepped on the pain
It reached through the
screaming
Cold I froze
Neck talking about hair's failings again.

Burning ice
Legs woke up first
struggling to fall
Telling my head
The water is cold ice not hot, belly was chastising me about it.

Arms broke off
And my head rolled
on the linoleum.
Every part of myself
A cacophony of irritated nerves conversing.



No One Loves the Fatwoman In the Circus

Not for mind or heart am I admired
Certainly not for walk or stance.
Gaining this was a kind of disappearing.
When very thin the invitation then said bring it on.
And that was another kind of weight.
You couldn't understand that either.
As a woman to be wanted for something I had no part in making
Just those thighs or breasts please
And a rump to get palmed while I writhed
This was how it was, and my thinking was
often requested to be turned off
"Just try not to talk."
I created that person again on paper, the thin
And seductive person that hints at all the lovely thoughts
That are in my mind free to get.
But I put her inside my writing to be picked out of bones
Paper girl was able to walk and talk to people
That would never look twice my way.
She made a paper lover imagine her face.
I think the only time a face was ever required it was so good.

The fatwoman in the room is the deal breaker.
And sick with all the things despised, age, cancer,
Memories, hurts, needs, desires, appetites and willingness.
The repulsion is so very extreme
That everyone is needed elsewhere.
No one loves the fatwoman.

It's a very busy time, for my invisible lard.