#poetry - come help me with a song

oh music come and save me now
I am running hard and long
I am running from old memory
I will soon be overcome

I saw the end of family
I saw the end of all
so I need a new memory
help me make it with a song

help me heal
oh help me love
help me now oh music
come help me with a song

#poetry - Somnay Mahnee - #UsGuys

badda-bing machine
it was a dream
i closed my eyes
and missed #usguys

i flaked off into
another world
and drifted there
somnay mahnee

and all the smiles
were wrapped
in snakes

and all the while
in all the while
through all the while

somnay mahnee
came to mean
weather falling
desperate skies

whether follows
loving sighs
itsy dead cockroach
and big green eyes

all the reason
to be with honor
while also to test
that reason

this is a story
of self-treason
this is a lesson
not a reason

if you make it
to the other world
somnay mahnee

somnay mahnee
let it be
so you should too

love, after lennon

i was feeling all alone
and my thoughts began to roam,
had somebody on my brain,
might have actually gone insane.

i didn't mean to love you,
i'm sorry and i don't know why.
and i don't want to love you,
i'm just helpless guy.

i was feeling through the past
and the wind was moving fast.
what a journey, what a train,
what a roadblocked memory lane!

how could it be i love you?
i'm honest now, i don't know why,
and still don't want to love you
but that's just a sigh.

i am feeling on the ball
and am deaf now to your call.
here with numbness, but no pain,
skin with scars but still no stain.

and here i am, though i love you,
no more thinking about the why.
it does no good to love you,
you're just a butterfly, a butterfly.

a particular bind

the watch here won't unwind,
i'm trying, it won't unwind.
the ticking says its done and done,
and done won't come undone,
moving on is the song of this particular bind.

please baby be kind,
come on now be kind.
you know you can't hide it in your tone
you've felt the weight of another's bones,
so walk on now and enjoy the ride.


leave me behind,
leave me behind
with your unsure footsteps falling,
you can go on always knowing
you can find me another time.

after cataclysm

more can be said for centripetal force
by others than by me, but perhaps this---
matters not the cause a ship can lose course,
or wherefrom comes destructive impulses
or how one's hello and goodbye kisses
are same while differs the staying exchange,
variables determine hits and misses
and wakes the choices that create our range.
if i were the earth now and you the moon
and i knew how our crests were once estranged
from warm-hearted oneness by some fortune,
you swirling outward and forever strange,
no time would i waste calculating how,
i'd say, 'good-bye love. what do i do now?'

she cuts a line along her arm each day

she cuts a line along her arm each day,
the same two thoughts upon her skin journal,
in one clean line, a thin writing to say
at once that art is long but not floral.
such truth, a place holder for tomorrow,
these chevrons of yesterday's blinding breaks,
today's record of resilient sorrow
is silent and constant through steady wakes
of the same old woe she recognizes
and cannot escape---what else can she do?
her heart quickens to touch the falls and rises
by these marks of scar---her clean growth rings tattoo
texturizes the main complaints to form
a lurid Braille reading of her life's storm.

the butterfly

she is a butterfly. her life is about the dance,
a flitting of places and thoughts and feelings.
she is never in one place longer than an exhale,
except when she finds my open palm.

my palm is always open. it is more reliable
than anything she finds in her flitting day.
when she lands, she rests and after wards
wishes for ears on the palm. so ears grow.

she talks of her day spent flitting, high and low,
and wishes for a mouth to appear on the palm.
a mouth appears and words come out in a way
to effect a safeness she loves and can sleep by.

any longer spent, she would soon wish for more parts
to grow and appear. her next wish is for strong arms
and back muscles and glutes and genitalia
so she may continue flitting in a childbearing way.

she holds this wish in check with fluttering.
she cannot see her future beyond the palm
and grows restless and angry, flying out to meet the beyond.
if she survives, she will return again but only to yearn.