Summertime Sadness

I've always wondered what lead tasted like,

Or the smell of gunpowder on my lips,

To feel my life drain through the end of a barrel is a feeling I've always wanted to feel.

I have never planned a suicide.

But that doesn't hide the hundreds of ways I thought of doing it.

Maybe I could jump off a hotels roof?

Nope,

Afraid of heights.

I could empty our medicine cabinet with my dad’s favorite liquor?

But what if they find me first?

What if they take my decision away?

Who would trust me then?

Maybe then I wouldn't feel so alone.

I would never be alone.

What about a noose?

I've always liked the idea of going that way.

To have a tree strangle me to death,

To feel my breath being trapped inside my chest,

The best thing that could happen is my neck snaps on the jump,

Right?

Then what about drowning?

A cinder block on each limb and a jump off a pier,

I’d be so near the light, that when I hit the bottom,

My eardrums would be pounding so hard I would forget the sound of my heart beating.

I’d whisper goodbye through sand stained teeth,

And when the salt from the water scratches my lungs,

At least I’ll know I never wasted any breath on any last words.
I've already said them all.

Maybe starving would be the best for me.

I've never liked the way I look,

And yet I can’t find a way to rid myself of a stomach,

I could be thin,

And feel myself in loose skin,

I already have too much.

It could be slow.

And I would have time to tell myself that it would be okay.

That at least I would look better on my death bed.

I could go out fighting.

I wouldn't be able to be in the military with my medical history,

But I would find a way to war.

A way to fight with brothers I've never known.

Battle scars and bruises were something I never understood.

I wasn't sure if they were a blessing to the plane ride home,

Or a curse,

A stain on skin that you couldn't wash off.

They are stains reminding us would have died for something.

A coffee ring rung around a leg that isn't there.

I would want to die for something I stood for,

I have never stood for myself.

How is electrocution ?

I wouldn't know any other way but a toaster in the bath tub.

How would it feel to be on fire without burning?

To have all of our houses electricity boiling in my blood,

It would be dramatic.

I've never been one for drama though.

But fire would be different, right?

Instead of a dramatic exit,

It would be merely seconds of limelight.

I would be remembered as the man on fire.

Not the charred figure on the sidewalk,

Not the man with no way out.

Not the man with a choice.

Just a man with a match that he couldn't hold onto.

None of these ways are necessarily fast though.

I don’t plan on going to any heaven there is thought of,

I don’t plan on quite anything after I die.

I just will die.

It will be over.

I don’t want any second to think about what could be out there.

It all comes back to a gun.

Why is it so easy to make friends with bullets?

What is it about the shine of brass casings that appeals to the temples?

In the moment when a muscle squeeze of nearly 7 pounds can end my life,

I’ll realize how weak I really am.

I hope my blood drips in tempo.

That my eyes aren't fixed on the sky,

 But closed,

Because right then, it was hard to see anything good,

I wanted to be blind.

This Summertime Sun was too bright for me.

This summertime sadness was something I could never get over.

This summertime suicide has never sounded so good.

I don't remember

I don't remember the colors of the spines on the books that lived in my bedroom.

I don't remember what the monster in my closet looks like.

I don't remember the number of songs I listened to.

I don't remember the ideas I've had.

I don't remember a lot.

I don't remember the last time I found a note from you when cleaning my desk.

I don't remember the first time I looked out my window at night.

I don't remember the last time I didn't think about you. 

I don't remember the first time I met you.

I don't remember when I fell.

   I don't remember. 

"Coyote" by Katrina Guarascio

This is my poetry teacher/slam coach. She is an amazing English teacher, as well as a wonderful poet and performer. I am lucky I get to have her helping me become a better writer :D

Recipe on How to Make a Choice

If there is any background information I should give you before you make this batch of choices, Let it be its origin.

Choices originated our of our minds,

Whereas many lovers believe it to be the heart,

The fact is; our hearts make choices without knowing they had one.

It distinguishes its faith through instinct,

And plants the seed that made us believe these choices aren't difficult to make.

It is a fairly simple recipe, involving the following.

First, set in a small pan a splash of hope on medium heat,

And watch as it evaporates.

Recollect the vapor with the expanse of your palm.

Then add 1 teaspoon of reality,

3 teaspoons of compassion,

With only a pinch of reasoning.

Mix in a smaller bowl,

Allowing each ingredient to blur onto the kitchen canvas.

Now cool this to the temperature of your heart.

While this is cooling,

Find the nicest cut of selflessness.

Marinate for 24 hours in nothing but self pity.

Once the time is over, you can do one of two things to finish preparation.

You can roll it up,

 and smoke it until you forget who you were making these choices for,

or…

You can use the grill of your flesh,

Let your blood bake it until it tastes as fresh as spring rain.

Once your own selflessness has made your heart tender,

Shred it with all the frustration you've contracted,

And pour your chilled glaze over it.

Serve with a loaf of relief,

A side of resolution,

And a glass filled with consequences.

We don’t know if the choices we ultimately decide are right or not,

There are no grading pens to our problems,

No four parts to pick from,

Only a long ass response to the times we believed we were the only ones that were right,

Even when we weren't.

Because we can’t pickpocket perfect outcomes.

We cannot steal questions only kisses,

We don’t lie our way to happiness, We lay next to it.

The hardest part of it all,

Is to determine who is left with a smile on their face.

To make their soul fly,

Or find a resolution that best suits you.

Think of it as an equation,

There are two variables,

But we can only solve for X or Y

Because any line we draw will only be crossed once

By the axis our worlds revolves around.

This is all a system,

A natural progression into the universal theme,

 Of the universe.

And somewhere out there,

A star wasn't able to make a decision on whether or not to implode.

You do.

Stay Up With Me

I also posted this on another blog I'm doing with a friend, when we start posting more, I'll share the address :D


Stay up and hear how nothing sounds,
It's written in the lines of pencil scratches and paper crumpling,
Ideas can be sorted through faster than a box of trash on Storage Wars,
and we can sift the dirt from our piles of gold,
just to hear how this nothing sounds.
It's worth the ounce of precious metal found in the same pan as you cooked dinner that one time in a hotel room,
Burnt bacon has never tasted so bad before.

Stay up with me lover,
and hear the sound of my breathe fading away,
of sentences getting shorter,
And words somehow finding a way to ground themselves to your mind more than any other memory.

Stay up with me as I reread all of your texts,
I miss when we said I love you at 4 am.

Stay up with me,
And read all the things I never said.
Like,
 I love the way your head fits on my shoulder,
and the way my hand gets hot when I want to hold your hand.

It's like the lack of sleep let us ignore a lot.

Stay up with me lover,
Your company is appreciated.
When I'm alone I get sad.

I don't like being sad.

"Forgive Me" by Eva Crespin

I couldn't upload the video directly, but I wanted to share this.

This is Eva Crespin, and she is an ABQ poet, and damn good one at that.
This is her performance "Forgive Me"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7xPQSuCW5Rk

That was cool

So that last poem I posted, Red or Green, I read in a poetry slam last night in the final round. Despite it being on page, I managed to get first place! This is the first slam I have taken first, and it was quite exciting :D Now I have a $10 gift card to my favorite Cafe :)