thoughtsonthebus

15 stops. 40 minutes. each day.

Tag: Poetry

under the limit

ow.

says my heart as I drive away.

I ignore it.

It’s just remnants of a time gone past

a time gone fast

a time gone, not to last.

Turn left at the lights,

RBT up ahead,

turn right at the lights.

Imaginary conversations with the police

rattle through my brain

yes, officer, I have been drinking

but I was polite

I mean, I was sensible

1 schooner, 1 shandy, 1 middie of beer

and always the 1 whisky.

In 6 and a half hours, I know

I’m under the limit.

Turn  next left,

more imaginary conversations,

“then Miss, why are your eyes red?”

my eyes aren’t red, except the left one was earlier after I accidentally rubbed salt from the popcorn in it,

during the movies.

the movies,

our hands brushed as we scooped for the popcorn,

goddamnit sheppard,

stop noticing every little thing

stop feeling every little thing

stop missing every little part

of him that used to almost piss you off.

“so why are your eyes red, Miss?”

they’re red now,

the tears drop down my cheeks,

down my chin

roll towards my cleavage

“relationship problems, officer. You know…”

goddamnit sheppard

you don’t have the fuckin right to cry over this

over him

over what’s missed.

you fucked it up in the first place, and now you’re all like

boo-fucking-hoo.

get a grip.

my brain screams at my heart to just shut up,

suck it up.

except…

my brain used to be stronger than my heart,

i think the tide’s turning, finally.

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unravel

don’t think this means,

that I’m going to pull

every thread from

every seam.

it doesn’t.

I’m not dedicated

to the ongoing

abduction

of seduction

as my reconstruction

may show

as i throw

words and rhymes

in an absence of linear

time

time after time

Cindy had it wrong

in her lines

because not everything

you seek will you find.

 

eternal

some days

I can’t wait for the sun to go down.

as much as I love daylight savings,

it’s those last few hours that seem to stretch

that seem to bend

the emotions of the day as begun.

I read today, alternate endings

to movies that were never shown.

Joel and Clementine continuously erasing

each other

continuously finding

each other

for fifty more years.

when I really listen

when I really feel

that’s how I see us.

cyclical

loving

angry

disappointed.

stop

erase.

start again.

With a random encounter on the train

we meet once more.

Unaware of hurtful words,

unaware of the daggers and swords

we pushed

into each others heart.

As much as I fight,

the true feelings are true.

there’s never been

someone like you.

there’s never been

someone like me.

there’s never been someone like us,

now matter how fucked up shit gets

when you smile, I smile

when I hurt, you hurt

when I push you away,

you go

and that’s when

I come back

because there’s us

and that’s the truth

I’m so sorry.

Matt and Katie Xmas party

there is no need for a title

The water molecules seem to suspend in mid-air for an extra second,

I can almost separate them,

see each droplet as they

smash

rise

fall to become one again.

a crab off to my left

birds hover on past

slowly opening their wing span

to slow them down enough to land.

There’s a stillness to me

one I haven’t felt in a long while,

My mind is not.

wait.

i have mindlessness.

I’m seeing only with my heart

watching with my eyes

smelling the ocean with my nostrils

and feeling the rock with my feet.

It’s no different to my own organs

and the water that inhabits

my body.

This.

This is how I always want to feel.

a calm love

a peaceful acknowledgement that

I am the universe

and the universe is me.

Every blade of grass,

an individual.

Each bird a miracle.

Each stroke of freestyle an expression of a body

alive

awake

yet one with the water I so deftly move through.

And love.

love fills my soul,

my heart

my ears

I feel it’s caress on my cheek,

hear the whispers that I not alone in this world.

That I am in love

I am love

it’s beautiful, and I lack for nothing.

I left it all on the dancefloor

and took in more than I needed

to keep smiling.

It filled me up, and what was left over

poured out of my smile,

my eyes,

the kindness of my touch towards you.

I felt it returned,

in your words

your touch

your eyes that say

“you are beautiful, even your shadow”

I am in love,

I am love

I am.

4.44

the last 2 days

4.44am

this is not fun

and I don’t want to play

was having such brilliant dreams

that the last thing I want is to wake up

and wait

wait

wait to see if this morning

the tinge of regret has gone

the stain of hurt has dissapaited

most mornings, it’s just a faint

battle cry from within

this morning

it was like a scene from 300.

All the emotions

piled on top of one another.

I don’t want this

I don’t want this

go back to sleep or

Get up 

Get out

find some shoes, pants, t-shirt.

I walk the rocks

each step another memory

another time

but my god

this sunrise is taking my breath away

it’s whispers of pale blue, pink, orange

spreading across the sky

but my god

this sunrise is taking my breath away.

the waves pound with persitance at the rocks

the pool

as still and as effective as a mirror

as I walk towards the steps.

but my god

this sunrise is taking my breath away

taking the pain away

taking my clothes off me

as I strip to show my body.

I am all,

but I am nothing.

and now I’m naked.

So I might as well enjoy a swim.

xxxx

3 years. nothings changed. God knows I’ve tried though.

To sit,

to be silent, peaceful, humble

to seek humility, forgiveness, security

to find warmth, understanding, clarity

to give love

always with purity

to see your eyes tell the truth.

I have no eyes to see

no ears to hear.

I am all

and nothing.

I am not who I pretend to be.

Yet, I try so hard

to allow the love to reside, to settle

to set up shop and be calm with that.

I have room for you, you are always welcome here.

I hear a car,

it doesn’t stop

but it sounds like a taxi that might have brought you to me.

But you’re not it’s passenger.

I don’t know where you are

who you’re making laugh

who you’re being kind to

who’s hair your fingers are stroking.

I don’t know where you are,

except not here.

I don’t know your thoughts

if they swing or are solid.

But they haven’t brought you here.

It was a year.

And this time

I watch the sunrise

alone.

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SM1xmtfO-ng

24th October 2010

 

Don’t.

Don’t get into the habit of believing every thing I write here

is forever and ever,

amen.

it’s a moment. it’s fleeting.

but it exists.

it wells up, i spew it forth through my fingers

via the keyboard

and onto this once empty page.

And then,

normal, calm, happy,

talking to the cats, dancing in the rain,

smoking way to many ciggarettes, washed down with multiple cups

of my coffee.

Just normal, most of the time.

With occasional explosions of thoughts.

Thanks.

x

not from today, but not from that long ago either.

Emotionally yours, for a time

until pause

let’s slow

I’ve evasive, I’m elusive

I’m not sure what I just did

I can’t see past the screaming thoughts

that tell me

walking

then

running

is the only option.

Then you can’t see me,

be me,

fear me!

For i can, and will, destroy you

just to prove that I can

just to prove that I’m not

as amazing as your eyes tell me.

Hope, dreams, sadness,

please. just be cool, your eyes beg.

please just don’t do this again

it’s such a shame

to watch a smart girl like you

act so predictably.

 

Oops

I did it again

I played with your heart

got lost in the game

If it’s come to the point where

Britney Spears lyrics can make

a true and honest statement

then it really is time to do something.

Yet, there is no “oop’s” feeling about it.

I can now acknowledge what I’ve done. Can take responsibility. Can be humble.

So scratch that line.

Your heart is more guarded/protected

Change the lyrics again.

I played with MY heart.

This time, every time

that rush when it starts

pulls me, drives me

makes me frantic

and manic

and predictably searching out

for that which I already had.

(Oct 2013)

in sickness and in health.

sick and angry.

not actually sick,

but feel it. the bile, the hatred

of all the misrepresented, placating bullshit

you laid upon my pillow.

You said this, but you felt that

and then blamed me for you feeling that

when I thought you felt this.

You had every chance to speak your truth.

Tired of fighting?

yeah – me too.

But half the time you were fighting yourself, fighting against the lies you told me.

Because not once did you raise your voice, provide a counter-argument..

Pissed at me, ok. I acknowledge that.

But now I’m fucking pissed at you.

The first step – Acknowledge you have a problem.

Tick.

I even acknowledge my words don’t always live up to my actions.

Oh, I fucked up in a few ways, but I never lied.

But action I’ve started, was hoping you’d help me through it.

Help me grow to again become the person I am meant to be.

But no.

I thought I had mountains, I’m making them into molehills.

Your eyes say “You’re delusional. They’re mountains, and I’m outta here.

You’re not worth it.”

pfft – you don’t have my back.  what a load of codswallop.

I’m in the ring, bloody, bruised, but with a ever growing flicker of a come-back

and where are you?

You didn’t tell me how you felt, you let the disgust well up inside you,

didn’t explain, didn’t put your foot down, you never stood up and took me on face to face.

pussy.

You just let me cruise all the way off the edge of the pier without one warning. Sat back and watched.

And then blamed me for going into the water.

So right now.

Fuck you.

Fuck you.

Fuck you.

Dear Michael,

I would like to start this post off by sincerely thanking the most dearest friend of mine,

Barefoot.Dusty.

I’m not sure I remember the exact date/time, place (? maybe my front room), when you said

“Man! I’ve been listening to Spearhead all weekend, I can’t fuckin wait until he’s out here playing!”

“Who”

:/

Laptop on.

Youtube searched.

And there he was.

This gorgeous soldier of a man,

but scary at the same time, with all his dreds and shit.

Until I heard the music.

And I loved him even more, because he is not his exterior.

So, this is a dear letter penned to you, Michael Franti.

Thank you for holding my hand (lyrically) through some of the

saddest and

most beautiful moments

that I’ve had the experience of experiencing.

I found you again today after about a year.

And your sincere, honest, tia-maria smooth voice has just

bowled me over again.

I can only hope to achieve the level of calm, truth you speak of,

where everyone is a poem

and flowers are meant to be bloomin

and children leave fingerprints upon my heart.

maybe.

You truly are the whisperer of revelations.

I’ve listened today, I’ve walked the wild, windy cliffs of the Bra,

and i had my own revelation.

I was about to say to a man running, “hey it’s really windy around the corner”

but then I thought – maybe my voice will distract him, maybe he’s in the zone,

maybe he’s just enjoying the solitude.

maybe he’s like me, and appreciates the silence of silence.

oh shit.

maybe loads of other people are like that, and I’m always chatty/chatty/chat/chat.

I should probably leave more space, so that something organic can also come from the other person.

I should probably shut the fuck up a little more often.

And not be so frightened by silence amongst people.

This, my friends, is a revelation – hilariously.

So Michael –

Thank you for calming me enough to hear those words of wisdom,

for stopping my mind from focussing on myself for long enough that

I can hear the creak of the door starting to open.

Your’s sincerely,

from a singing heart and a mind that is seeing a little more much-needed light

K

btw: I’m a really big fan 😉

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ht0eoI53S-A

But listen to the whole album “Stay Human” and tell me you’re not feeling awesome about yourself x