Another Poem About Her (2013)

Howls that fake 

words without

words.

                           Lands that waste

                           space, waste 

                           sight.

                                                       Winds that tear

                                                       homes; dry 

                                                       tears.

.These things are where i find my home

,Not in reality, for i do not go there

but in my mind. Your absence 

does not make my heart 

grow fonder. it just 

.makes it hurt

...Please

                                                                    .come home

                                                                                                    Creaks that chill

                                                                                                    blood; stop

                                                                                                    hearts.

                                                        Men that grow

                                                        tall yet

                                                        cower.

                     Life that slows

                     then stops

                     sharp.

Don’t

.make it hurt

I promise, i’ve grown

fonder for being alone; very

comfortable. It makes me distinctly

.uncomfortable, knowing that I’m still fine

I don’t know how I’ll feel when i see you. It really 

                                                                      .scares me

My Emotions (In Another's Words)

By Thomas Prendergast with quotes from Nick Sagan’s Idlewild
Bold and italic words are not from the book.

Her “name just made me feel 

lost and sad,”

“But God was she beautiful!”

She turned out to be

“the straw that broke the junkie’s back.”

She turned out to be

“actual Doom, 

ugly sister to Destiny”

But then again, I remember the

“puddle of jet-black garments 

gracing my bedroom floor.”

“She was stunning.”

I “can’t help but think of her 

tripping on her cowboy boots

 as she stepped

 out of her panties. 

Clumsy, yes, 

but I found it endearing.”

She broke me,

“no doubt about that”

But she

“helped make me who I am, 

no doubt about that” either.

She said she was

“Giving up on the present 

to take a chance on the future,”

But she left me

“twisted and tensed, 

taking shallow breaths 

like a newborn kitten.”

She’s “gone now, 

off chasing a better tomorrow”

“I’m alone with my thoughts.

I said I had nothing left … 

but that’s not true.”

“That’s right,” Tommy, 

“We’re not done yet.”

And if somewhere there existed

some sort of journal, 

one consisting of my thoughts,

the last entry in her chapter

would read:

“If you’re reading this, 

what can I say? 

I tried to hit the long ball. 

I went for all the marbles and lost. 

Sucks to be me. 

You would have done the same thing 

in my position.”

My future, 

I would find,

“stood at the corner of”

Acacia street, and

“Celestial Drive…”

Singing Songs Through Smoke

Inspired by William Carlos Williams' The Red Wheelbarrow

So much depends

upon

Branches burnt black

beneath

Skies coloured like 

fire

Sending signals rather

sung.

What We've Done

By guest author Connor Prendergast

Is our hubris

So unconquerable
That we truly believe 
Our words - our ideas - 
Can even begin to 
Allude to the vastness, 
The complexity 
And majesty of 
Where we are? 
How we are? 
The greatest poets 
Are tongue-tied. 
The greatest thinkers, 
Philosophers, 
Yield only great 
Questions. 
And yet, how 
Is there hope? 
We sit, so obviously 
Paraplegic, 
At the base of 
Olympus Mons. 
So inexplicably, 
We realize our tears, 
Rising geysers, 
Are products of 
Our immense joy.

Fears

People say they are scared of love.
They're not.
Love is what overcomes fear.
Overcomes sadness.
Anger.
Grief.
People do not fear love,
Their minds too often make false connections
Between the uplifting beauty of love,
And the gut-wrenching,
Peace-killing, nerve-wrecking
Explosion the heart withstands
Once silence falls.
People do not fear love,
They fear love's company.
They fear the uncertainty of love's return.
They fear they fall too hard,
Too fast,
Without being followed.

Love is a driving force,
A motive to become more,
To become better.
Life is the force that silences love,
That hinders it, but also gives it room
To grow.
Life is love's brother, twin, and friend.
The two are ever present and
Never alone.
it is because of life, its experience,
That we fear love.
it's all about that lovely girl,
That girl we would pray about.
if we had the power, we'd
Give her the sun,
The moon, and the stars.
if we never had that lovely girl,
if we never stayed up 'til midnight
Just to study the contours and curves
Of her body, and the beautiful imperfections
Of her skin, none of us would fear love.
When our world shone bright at the sight of her,
When our dull day went from black and white
To mind blowing technicolor, that day,
She gave us a gift.
Wrapped neat in brown paper bags,
And a tight black ribbon with a rotton,
Disheveled bow,
The gift was our experience.
Our gift was fear.

Like having the fear of death, having the fear of love
Makes not a difference in the world.
We live our lives afraid of our exit,
Afraid of our journey to the afterlife.
We live our lives being told what to think,
What to fear.
"Death," they say, "is the ultimate terror.
stay healthy, be good,
and postpone your finale as much as possible."
We live our lives repeating the mantra:
"i don't want to die,
i don't want to die,
i don't want to die,
i don't want..."
And we live our lives, but we die,
inevitably and absolutely.
Just like how we love what we can and
We helplessly hope our love stays true.
But it doesn't,
And we come to know that
Gut-wrenching, peace-killing
Explosion of sorrow and tears,
Of loneliness and fears.
The explosion sends shudders through our gears,
Leaving us screaming past the piers,
Praying to God that she hears,
But the terror manifests through the years,
Leaving us petrified of love.

For what seems like lifetimes,
We shy away from that blessed
Want. That sacred peace.
But, like the inevitability of death,
We fall again, still too hard,
Too fast.
We continue the process,
Through love and through fear,
'Til one day...

it stays.

How to Find Love

Begin in teenage years.

Date a girl for several days. 

Break up. This was not love. Search

Without looking. That is to say, do not 

Search with your open eyes, but with your

Open heart. Open your heart wide, wide enough

For people to get in, for people to stay in. 

Get hurt. Love does not come cheap.

Continue through high school. Find a girl 

And date her for two of your four years. Date her,

On a whim, and fall for her. In fits of passion and lust,

Make love to her clumsily, it being both of your firsts.

When you lie in bed, skin on skin, whisper to her. Tell her

You love her. Tell her how you found her, how you

Opened your heart and she flew right in, like a

Dove. A dove with talons. Later, give her terrible words, 

Something akin to “we need to talk.” Break

Her heart. Feel sorry for hurting her, but regret

Nothing. Or don’t. Receive terrible words,

Something akin to “it’s not you, it’s me.” Have her

Break your heart, knowing they are just words, 

And it was you all along.

This was not love.

In your escapades following your separation,

Find amazing friends, friends that help you 

Open your heart once again. Friends that climb in 

And make your heart their home. Fall for one of them.

She is beautiful in every way, you tell her. Love her 

Through everything and anything. Have her

For a short time. You fell for her more

Than anyone in the past. More than that girl

Who was your first.

Lose her. It will tear you apart, this girl that

Fit. This girl that may well have been yours 

Forever. Lose her. Now you know love.

It hurts.

How to Love Lips

Begin forming words.

Move with beauty and grace.

Dance to the message your body forms. After, 

You will embrace her, mixing in a new dance.

You make truth, this is your business. But also,

You make lies, this is your sin. Don’t listen

To the problems of others, this is not for you,

But when they need you, tell them the way to fix these problems

Dance once again and remove their sorrow

Out of their mind.

Go to new places, dance with others,

But save your waltz for her

For when you return home. This dance you share, 

This wondrous lust, this thing

Is precious, and therefore, delicate.

In your life, you will have many people to share this waltz,

Many people to share this 

Sacred lust. That doesn’t

Make it any less precious.

When you dance with her, remember

Those steps well, those moments.

Share this dance with only her, until

She finds another with swifter feet, and better

Shoes, better moves. Now it is your turn

To find another, better dancer.

Dancing cannot be the only thing

You ever do. Sometimes you are more 

Lovable when you sit quietly,

And watch. Watch someone else’s 

Dance. By simply being there,

You instill confidence, proclaim

The truth that is your business.

This is no place for your sin.

Just sit and watch, see

How gracefully the muscle moves the bone,

Watch as practiced limbs create beauty

Before your eyes. See the way they speak

With you. See how these movements create 

Love, not romantic, but fanatic,

In your odd little heart.

This journey, that is falling in love

With something, will have a 

Side effect. You may start to

Notice more beauty in everything,

In people, in things, in the world,

In life, in death,

And in everything in between.

This is not really 

“How to Love Lips”

This is “How to Love.”

What is Peace?

Last night I found myself wondering

What peace really is. 

I found myself pondering 

If it is some permanent state of being 

We as humans search for our entire lives.

Is it something that once found

Will cause happiness 

Worldwide?

Does peace just sit there

Like a fed up parent 

Waiting for her chaotic,

Mislead

Toddler to tire himself out

Before she can pick up the pieces 

Left by his destructive ways?

Lost in these dizzying daydreams

I came across a revelation.

This revelation made clear that

The relationship between peace and war 

Is not that of a fed up parent and her reckless toddler,

But it is that of two lovers, 

He, who dances dangerously dealing death

To all. 

But also her, who, while dancing with her lover, 

Lands love luxuriously upon the lives of onlookers. 

There is no death to be dealt without the luxury and love

Of peace.

Along side this revelation came a thought so profound,

"Peace is beautiful, but fragile, like butterfly wings.

Touch them once and the may just crumble away

Into the dust."

Peace comes and goes, 

Showing her skill on the dance floor for only a minute

Before her lover's turn comes around

And shatters our serenity she selflessly gave us.

Finally, 

I realized what peace is. 

Peace is more 

Than something our governments strive for, 

More

Than a cause our soldiers die for. 

Peace is more

Than some end to justify these means, 

More 

Than our filthy American dreams. 

Peace is maturity, 

On a level entirely new to us.

Lost in Your Hands

i'M lost in mind,
i Just can't
Feel you this time...


iF i Said
You had my mind,
And said
You change it all the time,
Would you believe
My insignificant words?
Would you still leave
And make this all worse?
Or could you stay here
With me?
Or would you leave here
Without me?
i'M just so lost this time,
Just can't return from it.
All this aching in my mind,
And still i Can't leave this shit.


Packing my bags,
Thinking of that serenade,
That hand-me-down hag
That neither of us made.
iF i Said

You had my mind,

And said

You change it all the time,

Would you believe

My fighting words?

Would you please leave 

And stop making this worse?

i Can't see anymore!

Not through all your tears.

i Can't breathe anymore!

Not after all these years.

Darling, you are making me grieve,

You are making me hurt.

Would you please leave,

And stop making this worse.

Another Untitled

Oh, this binding chain,

This nutritious cage.

We see every day our 

Ponderous restrictions

Refuse to fade.

Vanish,

Disappear before our 

Eyes.

From time to time 

We find ourselves in a place,

A place that simply conducts

Happiness.

This is the only place

Where we can close our

Eyes.

Free of any worry.

However these binding chains, 

This nutritious cage,

They don’t want us here.

They want to see our blue

Eyes.

The color of these glass orbs,

The only thing given to us,

Reflects this life through 

Blue lenses.

Not enough in these pockets

For the rose colored glasses.

So This iS Madness

Confusion sets in, madness it is called.

But how our mind starts to act on its own,

Something like a drum sounding in the cold.

We wait for something just to us be shown.

The downfall of our life cannot be now.

We might try to say that we are to young,

‘Cause of our experience is not how.

iF gone, our life by a thread would be hung.

Responsibilities of ours are great.

All too great in fact to leave such a place

We cannot leave a place without this hate

Our exit must be later and with grace.

We have not been given une chance comme ca.

Mais nous pouvons voir que nous aurons la. 

Cinderella Speaks

Do not take this from me.
You do not want me that mad.
All you want is to set me free.
You cannot do that when i'm sad.
The best way to set me free
is to let me go.
You have to let me be.
You have to know.
iT's all part of the same fight.
iT's all pieces of the same shine.
All pieces have their own might. 
Just let me go, i'll be fine.


A new wind is blowing.
A change we all knew was to come.
i Can tell you who now is showing,
i Would but they look so glum.
iT's the way i am
To differ from the rest.
i Am the water on the wrong side of the dam.
i Know how, but i have'nt passed the test.
Oh, how i wish you were here.
Your empty space is saddening.
i Scream for you from beyond the pier.
Your lack of an answer is maddening.


You have made my mind,
You change it all the time.
Your words, always so kind.
With my lack of speech, i can only mime.
i'M sorry i cannot be my best,
But for tham i have little respect.
i'M sorry i cannot pass the test,
But for that there is no retrospect.
Making sense is beyond me,
Like my screams which are past the pier.
iT's the nonsense that makes us free,
But you've made it, you've made it here.

Where i'M From

The truth is in the words,
The words are in the paper.
'Does that make the paper the truth?'
        You ask yourself.
No.
No, the paper is just the vessel.
The words are the message.
The truth lies in you.
Therefore,
Your body is the paper, 
The vessel.
The truth lies in you.
You are the messenger.
You are the message.
You feel something stir deep inside you.
The truth maybe?
iT's longing to be free
From your body the shell.
The cage.
Or maybe it's the emotion, 
The longing inside you.
Nevertheless,
You love that feeling 
iT's the feeling that makes you,
That drives you.
That emotion,
iT's screaming at you.
"Run!" it yells.
"Run faster away from here!"
You begin to listen,
One foot before the next. 
Then you recall your roots,
That truth form which you came.
iT may not be the force that drives you,
That makes you.
But you stop.
You lower your head in prayer.
Please, you pray,
Please, return me home.

Fade

Music.
In one ear, 
Out the other.
Footprints.
Musical notes as footprints in my mind.
Fade.
i Listen to the music,
And the world just fades
Away.
Like the beginning
Of a long and winding road.
Shine.
A song comes on,
Shining in the dark of night,
Like headlights on dark roads.
Flow.
i Pick up the paper,
The words just flow like bones
Sinking like stones.
Et cetera
Et cetera.
Thoughts.
iT's the thought that i feed
That flow on the paper.
iN the dark.
Flying.
Music.
iT makes us feel like we're falling.
But,
There's a fine line between falling
And flying.
Break.
Music. 
Poetry.
Writing gives us a break
From the people that think that
They've made up our minds for us.
Fade.
We listen to the music,
And we just fade 


Away...

Untitled and There to Stay

A blank page.
A picture of a broken man.
The words.
The heart.
The life.
Though they may be short and choppy,
They flow
Like bones sinking like stones.
Teachers.
Fill our heads
With words that don't exist.
Numbers that were never created.
Fragments.
i Glance at the clock:
7:25
Late.
Almost night.
Midnight.
A time for whispers.
Secrets.
Prayers.
A time for the other you to shine.
Shining.
Piercing the dark.
Letting anybody 
Be anyone.
2:58
Long time passed.
Noon.
Been there,
Lived that.
Lived through it.
No one didn't.
Like we're all the same.
Are we?
We are not?
What are these strange things we say?
Questions.
Words.
Anybody

Anyone

At midnight 
We are all the same.
At midnight
We are all different
Choose one.
Don't think in two verses at once.
11:48
Getting there.
12 minuets.
720 seconds.
Calculated,
With a calculator.
Getting there.
Getting there.
You must leave
Once we're there.
The me
You will see 
iS not me
iNdeed.
Leave once i leave.
The me
You will see 
iS not me
iNdeed.

12:00