busy.doing.nothing » Poetry

Silence.

Jim — Mon, 09 Apr 2007 05:53:00 +0000

The ride home is always torture
She kills me, she really does
The radio whispers in the background
Raindrops beat against the windshield
The tires hiss across the wet pavement
She could be crying for all I know
I’m not going to turn my head and look

White headlights fly towards us
I could close my eyes and let the car drift
I could suddenly jerk the wheel to the side
I could all end it all right here
Would she even scream?
The traffic light turns red, and I ease to a stop
The red light, the perfect opportunity to talk
Silence.

Pulse

Jim — Sun, 01 Apr 2007 03:00:00 +0000

My soul twitches,
And I gasp for air.
When I open my eyes,
I’m flooded in color and light.
And as everything focuses,
I can see a straight line
From my eyes to yours.
In that moment of silence,
As our hearts beat as one,
Our pulse moving through time,
Soaring through the foggy haze,
Above the dark clouds,
Floating free,
And I remember how good it feels
To be alive again.

The Trip

Jim — Fri, 30 Mar 2007 06:42:00 +0000

Are you ready for the trip?
Waiting patiently at the door
Baggage packed and loaded fit
Foot tapping, timing, on the floor

Make sure we have all we need
Food, water, clothing, shelter, check
Money for emergencies
My baggage, your baggage, we’re set

Our course set to somewhere far
A place that we have never been
Jammed inside my little car
Open road, riding like the wind

Just like trips of childhood past
Reminding me of happy times
Memories that always last
Forlorn, I breathe a heavy sigh

The day is now forsaken
As darkness falls upon the world
And stars from sleep awaken
Full moon floating, midnight pearl

Driving now unsafely fast
Risking we may arrive sooner
Radio plays sounds of past
The somber voices of crooners

I’ll tell you all my stories
If you really care to hear them
My world in all its glory
Sit back, close your eyes, and listen

Amber Alert

Jim — Thu, 01 Jun 2006 05:18:00 +0000

Driving home from work tonight
The electronic sign above the freeway says:
AMBER ALERT
MISSING CHILD
A carâ€™s license plate number and make and model included
Fear came over me
The fear of being ten years old and holding a piece of paper
At the top of the page, in big, bold letters:
MISSING
A girlâ€™s picture and information included
Taken from a friendâ€™s slumber party in the middle of the night
She was my age, and lived not too far away
My imagination conjuring up images of horror
The struggle, the muffled cries for help
The streams of tears
She was all over the news
All the neighborhood kids were terrified
A few months later she was found in a trash bin
Another life wasted
Destruction of innocence
Another sign displays the same grim message
In electronic yellow print
Dead or alive, one thing is certain
Tonight another child learned all too soon
How awful the human race really is

Confess(ion)

Jim — Mon, 24 Apr 2006 06:44:00 +0000

I canâ€™t believe youâ€™re capable of such an
Atrocity
There must be a very good
Explanation for
This
Horrible and
Evil act of selfishness
Look at you
Acting as if nothing happened
Smiling and standing
There looking so very
Proud of what youâ€™ve done
If you could only see yourself
Everybody will hear about this
Consider this your warning
Every action has an equal and
Opposite reaction
Forget about how
Pleasant you feel right now
It will soon come to an
End

Kings and Queens

Jim — Fri, 14 Apr 2006 04:47:00 +0000

Silently
We dream the dreams
Of kings and queens
Of everything
For all in life
We’ll ever be
Is less than that
Of anything

Where You Belong

Jim — Wed, 08 Feb 2006 05:57:00 +0000

I don’t know your name, and I couldn’t even see your face clearly, for it was too dark. All I really saw was you standing there, a living shadow, ears at attention, with a distant stare. Although I couldn’t see clearly, I could feel it; I knew you were lost. I don’t know if you had the desire to explore, or perhaps you and your master had a fight, or maybe you were chasing something, but you were standing there, lost in urban nature, trapped on a grass island between two rivers filled with concrete and steel and glass and rubber. It’s very dark, very cold, and very dangerous. Why are you out there?

The moment I saw you, I was struck with fear and regret, followed by pangs of cowardice. I knew what could happen to you, yet I kept on going. I wasn’t strong or brave enough to save you; I only hoped that your primal intuition would get you back to where you belong. Somebody out there loves you. You’re not meant to be alone.

There is hope. Enough time has passed by now that you’ve been able to make the decision of where to cross. It’s late, and traffic isn’t quite as chaotic as it can be. I know how bad it can get, as I drive that way and back to work every day. The best thing for you would be that I never see you again. I will wish and pray that you make it back to where you belong, that you will be happy and safe. I will wish and pray that you will see the sun again.

Letter to an old friend

Jim — Thu, 03 Nov 2005 01:15:00 +0000

Hello sunshine, how do you do? It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, I’ve nearly forgotten what it’s like to have you around. You’re so much better to me than my other so-called ‘friends.’ You’re calming and quiet, so much so that sometimes I forget you’re even there. Unlike my other friends, who are loud and obnoxious, and constantly reminding me of their presence. You have this unique, warm beauty about you that makes me want to better myself. It’s a welcome change from the cold, dark, distant feeling I get with my other friends; they make me feel trapped and alone. I just can’t get them to leave. I really wish I had your number so we could keep in contact, so that I could call you and we could get away from here…write back sometime, or better yet, stop by unexpectedly. You’re always welcome, you know.

Snow days

Jim — Tue, 01 Mar 2005 11:37:00 +0000

When you enter the adult world, there is no such thing as a “snow day.” I miss the excitement of waking up, watching the school closing announcements at the bottom of the screen on the morning news in anticipation of seeing my school listed, celebrating when it is, and crawling back into bed, almost too excited to fall back asleep.