People Poetry - IJKL
Inflection - July 6, 2003
People want to see me
People want to see me
People want to see me
People
want to see me
People
want to see me
PEOPLE
WANT
TO
SEE
ME
me
me
me?
of all
people




Je Dois Vous Dire, "Adieu" - (November 19, 1998
I must say
good-bye
I have definitely been
blessed
by your
presence
to lose you would be
dreadful
to say the
least
But, to lose you without having
said
good-bye
would be unbearable, I
once
forgot to say
good-bye
to a friend before she moved
away
I
regretted
it later, for though I thought I
would
see her again or
at
least
hear from her again
I
did
not
I last saw her on a
Friday
and found that less than a
day
after she arrived at her
destination
the currents had
claimed                                
her
and when I found this out, I
realized
I
never to her said
good-bye
I felt
emptier than . . .
I never
want
to feel that way
again
I never want to feel so much
loss
again.
So, if I make a
point
of saying
good-bye
to you, take it as the biggest
compliment:
for it means you are
dear
to me, and losing you for
good
is an experience I
never
wish
to have




Kelly (2) - March 17, 2001 (the first poem with this title can be found in the love poetry section)
She sits and cries
silently
over another woman
who has
"fucked me up"
and doesn't know it
a woman she travelled across an ocean for
would have moved for
but something happened
and she won't open up
she just cries
and hates herself
and calls herself an idiot
I would never force her to do anything
I love her
though she thinks I don't
but I cry too
for her
and I am hurt
not by her
but for her
if she knew the empathy
the degree of it
I don't know
perhaps she would talk
but she just sits there
and cries
and rages
smokes
and
drinks
over this girl
and a story
that only she knows




Loss - (In rememberance of Christie and Jeremiah Leonard -originally titled, "Why Do the Good People Have to Die so Young?" - If you'd like to see what more I did with this poem,
click here)

Part I

Her smile.
That's what I remember the most.
I don't think that I ever saw her frown,
Or get angry,
Anxious,
Stressed.
She was so open-minded.
She looked at the world with childish eyes,
And yet was the most mature of all.
She was athletic,
The M.V.P. of all her sports teams,
Whether given that name in a ceremony,
Or just already known by everyone.
She was smart.
Her brother,
I didn't know him.
He was a year older than her,
And I hear, just as athletic,
Intelligent,
Open-minded . . .
Appreciated.
I do know one thing about them both.
They were practically attached at the hip.
Sibling rivalries were not part of their history together.
It was so fitting that they died together.

Part II

They moved, the day after homecoming.
The next morning, they went swimming.
They drowned,
In the waters, on the shore, of Gaeta, Italy.
If it was truly supposed to have happened,
It would have been better if it happened on any other day,
But a Sunday.

Part III

Their parents have forgiven God for it.
"Thy will be done."
Others have not.
They cannot see how God could have let two beatiful souls leave.
They have lost their faith in their one deity.
I have forgiven Him.
I don't think it was his fault at all.
I don't think he meant for them to be taken.
He didn't mean to deprive us of our true friends,
The two people in the world who were as close to perfect
As two can get.
He did not mean to make us feel sad,
Depessed . . .
Unworthy of our own lives.
They deserved to live out their lives.
Their lives had meaning.
Our lives are mere existences.

Part IV

One day, many years ago,
Two angels escaped from Heaven.
Last year, two days after Homecoming,
God found those angels in gaeta, Italy,
Swimming.
"O.K., kids. It's time to go home now."

Part V

I don't think they felt any pain,
As the waves slowly enveloped them,
As the currents surged around them,
To end above them.
I think those of us who were left,
Are the ones who feel the pain.
Inspiration - (September 8, 1997 - This is dedicated to Josh Willard)
Talking to
someone
Makes you realize
many
things
there
is
someone
who
will
listen and
want
really want
to help
there are
people
who aren't as they
seem
You're not
alone
Everyone deserves a
hug
once in a
while
poetry does
speak
not
communicate, but
speak
everyone has
problems
and that's what brings us
together
And just because someone
you
still
love
(even though you
know
you shouldn't)
is far
away
that doesn't
mean there's
no
one
else with
ears




The Johns - August 2, 2002
He's counterproductive with his
subtle accusations
no therapist works well with me
that way
"when you're done blaming the military,
then what?"
shut up, bastard
I'm having a tough time
that's why I'm here
I had no counselor outside
to help me let go
that's why I'm here
I didn't come here
for a social worker to psychoanalyze me
I came here for someone with
credentials
to help me

And you
with your boyish charm
insist on sitting with me
talking to me
offering to live with me
coming to my room
and asking to see my breasts
who gave you the right
to make me
and other young women in this ward
feel uncomfortable
you
a man with an 18-year-old son
should know better
but you don't

when I get out on Monday
when I have more to do
than think
I'm sure I'll be better off

my stay was good
until you two
interrupted it




Kelly (3) - March 17, 2001
she sits at her computer
hours on end
checking e-mail
and reading those that her ex
sends her
even if they hurt her
she reads them
and keeps the pain inside
and replies nicely
as if nothing's wrong
she'll then rage when her reply is sent
and perhaps cry
which leads her to her homework
she's quite studious
but only in avoidance of her pain
and whatever confrontations may arise
and she laughs at the messages
and rages at her readings
of a God who is vengeful
"What have you learned about God from this passage?"
"That he's a shithead."
I can't help wondering
if this God in these stories
is a mirror of those in her life
how much is a parallel
to her own life
and do these women know
or will they just continue
to hurt her by being themselves?
She worries me with her talk
of suicide
and what would these women do
cry for a time and then she's a speck in their memory
as I'm sure she suspects
or will they mourn their loss
as I will
and she doesn't believe
I'm afraid the only way she'll find out
is with a bang
and no way to turn back




Love Thy Neighour - (September 26, 1998 - This poem was inspired by a campfire birthday bash I went to in which we were all asked who our "teachers" were)
Every person has
blessed
me
and
taught
me
good
lessons, either
directly or
indirectly.
Every
lesson
that someone has
taught you
was taught to
them
by someone
else
who was also
taught
other
lessons
by
other
people.
Each of us is
connected to
every other
person in the
world
through
this.
Remember
that
the next time you
judge.
"Love
thy
neighour
as
thyself."




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