a poem to redeem today

Horizon
honestly
moaning gets me nowhere lyrically
except for sometimes but even then
only retrospectively

and moaning lyrically never tends to get
me anywhere else mentally
instead accentuates this plight of me
instead perpetuates this fright in me this
dread of me dead bored of me i self indulge
masochistically
seemingly

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today

fancy that, what a day

bunch of reading /just now some bleeding
for lunch i had a pasta dish of which i’ve never heard of and
for dinner i had junk food on a whim and with some milkshake and
i found you and i kissed you in the pub and in your kitchen
over tea and over sheets and in your room and on your back
and on your arms /i smelt your hair and touched your hands and
cuddled you, you cradled me you told me how you’re jaded by
remarks on your good looks so i would say
so i would list if i could list if i could
just if i could say

you’re virtuous you’re truly good you’re whole and you are pure
attentive and perceptive yes attractive you’re romantic
you are special and i tell you so let’s hope that doesn’t jade you

and this is the first poem i’ve ever written about you so thanks for reading i guess

last few weeks have been a blur but here’s something i wrote just now

O Violeiro

facial recognition facial facial
reconstruction facial facial
laugh-lines wrinkles dimples blemish
and i blossom

flushed cheeks i speak slow
blush n mix up
words i fucked up
embarrassed and shy again but never a lost cause
be nice to me

and give me the time of day within
my own kind of space, be my comfort zone
and i will try to be yours

let’s accommodate each other and be our best selves

or try to be
and theoretically,
eventually we’ll tend to be at ease ( u n me )

more-or-less all-the-time

temperamental tinted goggles

he said he had
no time for slo-mos

naturally i figured i’d be
exposed eventually n i
don’t blame him for trying /not
surprised that he did try
but i suppose i proved myself in time and
in work and in life i doubt myself

and in my art i doubt myself doubt
this is even art and at times
this all feels forced and unnatural and i guess
in retrospect the expression that
probably came naturally
was rarely acknowledged there and then

those were the days
those could be the days
these are not the days until i say they were and sometimes
those were the days and are no longer
those were not the days /deluded either way

sicknote (signed)

figure i don’t gotta address it but i’ll give it a go/
even though probably no-
one noticed

my leave of absence /my
sabbatical or something

and it was alright and i did write but
it did feel like a break and i do feel
rejuvenated

and if i also could address/discuss
how hard it is for me to
drill habits into me, especially
ones that i know i need

but i’m often thinkin bout my form,
where to go next/when to tell
the next story/when to vent,
and how. and now
there’s less doubt at least
for the time being




DUMPING SOME POEMS I WROTE OVER MY ‘BREAK’
THE BREAK WAS PARTLY INTENTIONAL BUT ALSO I HAD NO INTERNET
ENJOY/IT’S GOOD TO BE ‘BACK’