A couple poem thingies
UNTITLED
you feel terrible around me.
I felt my heart in my bicept
And lime juice down my throat
I can't stand to be near you either now.
That one wasn't so great. I like this next one more.
A LITTLE HUM
While sitting at the book study last week
without warning the room had a weird feel to it.
Like the feel of the last scene of “Life is Beautiful” beginning when the boy is completely alone and ending just before he reaches his mothers arms
No music.
Simple.
Enjoyable. Beautiful. Distressing.
But perhaps it was just the tone of recent unfavorable events that made it distressing.
In an attempt to describe it I jumble words like “clarity.”
But it wasn’t that religious or conceited.
A welcomed emptiness.
My mind wasn’t clouded like usual.
But it was crowded
with millions of thoughts at once all orderly taking their turns to hum to me their very crisp clean hums.
I watched each by itself.
I sat there wondering what ever could be happening as I glanced down at my flat stomach that churned and ached from this nostalgic stress.
But my dress lay so still on top just as my face must have been over my brain.
However my face wasn’t plastic or cold or deceiving-at least not in my mind. It was simply composed and observant.
That kingdom hall was so crisp and quiet and I loved it! but it stressed me.
It was eerie and wonderful!
All I could hear was Bobby Walker on the microphone talk about my sweet Jehovah
And it seemed like the whole world had stopped to listen
But I knew that was just in my head because everyone in the hall was turning pages and clearing his throat and dropping pens.
But even when I heard them speak on the microphone I could not hear them.
Oh, It was so nice and quiet.
My eyes widened and I could see all of the Brothers and Sisters at once as they sat and thought and learned and loved.
They were so crisp and quiet.
Clean. Everything was clean.
Except
I hate the old scummy carpet in that hall.
But that night its old ugly scummyness seemed to be showered over in an eternal, empty, crisp, smiling cleanness and it didn’t bother me like it usually would.
I actually preferred it that way because it was real.
Just like Bobby’s occasional, stroke-induced roll of his left eye.
I found it all so strangely beautiful and happy.
I wasn’t a “giggle happy” just happy to be alive and happy that he’s alive and happy that we’re not the same and that we have scummy carpet to walk on and happy that this is all real.
Happy that I can pull myself away from that damn computer screen and those retched text books and actually look at and breath the same air as the person I’m listening to.
It was all real.
I’m telling you!
I was actually sitting in a real, live Kingdom hall surrounded by real people and real books and,
I’m telling you,
their hearts actually really beat.
shh.
You nor I could begin to imagine how many things could have stopped my very birth and somehow I reached that moment and it astounded me.
Do you know that little
Churn
in your stomach that you get the second you realize how fortunate you are to be
anything at all really.
Just to exist.
You don’t even feel “fortunate,” you’re just amazed that the world as you know it is the true and real reality. Amazed because we live in a world of movies and
you’re not in a movie.
You’re real.
That’s so much better than a face on a screen.
Movies want you to think that your moments and feelings and sensations and even the simple neutral feeling of starring at a wall is somehow wrong because it isn’t played up.
But that churn in your stomach that you get when you realize that every mundane thing in your life is actually wonderful and exciting just because
its real
That churn is magnificent.
I’ve thought these things a thousand times before and with no explanation my mind must have just decided to skip over all of them and went right to that nostalgic wonderful churn.
I loved it even though it stressed me not to be able to explain it.
So as a frog bunched up in my throat,
I sat back and I wondered.
I trembled, I existed, and I wondered.
you feel terrible around me.
I felt my heart in my bicept
And lime juice down my throat
I can't stand to be near you either now.
That one wasn't so great. I like this next one more.
A LITTLE HUM
While sitting at the book study last week
without warning the room had a weird feel to it.
Like the feel of the last scene of “Life is Beautiful” beginning when the boy is completely alone and ending just before he reaches his mothers arms
No music.
Simple.
Enjoyable. Beautiful. Distressing.
But perhaps it was just the tone of recent unfavorable events that made it distressing.
In an attempt to describe it I jumble words like “clarity.”
But it wasn’t that religious or conceited.
A welcomed emptiness.
My mind wasn’t clouded like usual.
But it was crowded
with millions of thoughts at once all orderly taking their turns to hum to me their very crisp clean hums.
I watched each by itself.
I sat there wondering what ever could be happening as I glanced down at my flat stomach that churned and ached from this nostalgic stress.
But my dress lay so still on top just as my face must have been over my brain.
However my face wasn’t plastic or cold or deceiving-at least not in my mind. It was simply composed and observant.
That kingdom hall was so crisp and quiet and I loved it! but it stressed me.
It was eerie and wonderful!
All I could hear was Bobby Walker on the microphone talk about my sweet Jehovah
And it seemed like the whole world had stopped to listen
But I knew that was just in my head because everyone in the hall was turning pages and clearing his throat and dropping pens.
But even when I heard them speak on the microphone I could not hear them.
Oh, It was so nice and quiet.
My eyes widened and I could see all of the Brothers and Sisters at once as they sat and thought and learned and loved.
They were so crisp and quiet.
Clean. Everything was clean.
Except
I hate the old scummy carpet in that hall.
But that night its old ugly scummyness seemed to be showered over in an eternal, empty, crisp, smiling cleanness and it didn’t bother me like it usually would.
I actually preferred it that way because it was real.
Just like Bobby’s occasional, stroke-induced roll of his left eye.
I found it all so strangely beautiful and happy.
I wasn’t a “giggle happy” just happy to be alive and happy that he’s alive and happy that we’re not the same and that we have scummy carpet to walk on and happy that this is all real.
Happy that I can pull myself away from that damn computer screen and those retched text books and actually look at and breath the same air as the person I’m listening to.
It was all real.
I’m telling you!
I was actually sitting in a real, live Kingdom hall surrounded by real people and real books and,
I’m telling you,
their hearts actually really beat.
shh.
You nor I could begin to imagine how many things could have stopped my very birth and somehow I reached that moment and it astounded me.
Do you know that little
Churn
in your stomach that you get the second you realize how fortunate you are to be
anything at all really.
Just to exist.
You don’t even feel “fortunate,” you’re just amazed that the world as you know it is the true and real reality. Amazed because we live in a world of movies and
you’re not in a movie.
You’re real.
That’s so much better than a face on a screen.
Movies want you to think that your moments and feelings and sensations and even the simple neutral feeling of starring at a wall is somehow wrong because it isn’t played up.
But that churn in your stomach that you get when you realize that every mundane thing in your life is actually wonderful and exciting just because
its real
That churn is magnificent.
I’ve thought these things a thousand times before and with no explanation my mind must have just decided to skip over all of them and went right to that nostalgic wonderful churn.
I loved it even though it stressed me not to be able to explain it.
So as a frog bunched up in my throat,
I sat back and I wondered.
I trembled, I existed, and I wondered.