I Find Lately That I’m On A Different Frequency Than The Place I Come From. I’m Acutely Aware Of
I find lately that I’m on a different frequency than the place I come from. I’m acutely aware of this recently.
I can’t stay here. I don’t know where to go. I don’t know who or what would have me.
I haven’t written much here but I’ve been expressing myself elsewhere under my own name at times. I’ve got to be expressing something. I’ve got to believe what I’m expressing. I’ve got to believe in my ability to express. I’ve got to believe that I can get through.
Right now, this is all I can manage to say.
More Posts from Mistahsojourner and Others
It’s so cheesy
cheesy like the orange fingers
on a dateless wonder
but if I call you brother
I mean it
desperately
like a cardboard sign SOS
spotted on a freeway off-ramp.
In the night
when the breeze is gentle
can I tell ya how terribly strange
this all is to me?
can I tell ya how scared I was
trippin’ on shrooms and that it was your
voice that brought me back?
Will ya come to me in the midnight hour
with the knots you can’t untie? Will ya?
Mid-July
On a summer night in mid-July
the asphalt cools from the day’s baking
and a man recovers from a day that ends in y.
Legs crossed on the floor like when he was a kid
Window is ajar and the breeze is sweet mercy.
Mercy hard to come by
even in mid-July
if you live long enough.
Money
from my blood, my sweat, my crazy
deposited in the bank account
of somebody in another ZIP code
in the months I used to just chill back in the day.
Back in the day is what feels okay
Back in the day to make ‘em spend their pay
to make ‘em feel like they used to
before things got sinister and weird
and too damn expensive
and not worth it
back when it was all in front of ‘em
and lookin’ like a shiny kingdom of love and sugar
Thing with dreams is
sometimes they are just too shiny
and they blind you.
Dreams burned into your brain
by people who finished school
and always work late
and you can never tell the difference
between yours
and theirs.
That kills.
So... I woke up and thought
Being aware of your own internal life and spending time there makes you remember that others possess an internal life as well.
This has the side effect of wanting to make sure the world is gentler.
On a summer night in mid-July
the asphalt cools from the day’s baking
and a man recovers from a day that ends in y.
Legs crossed on the floor like when he was a kid
Window is ajar and the breeze is sweet mercy.
Mercy hard to come by
even in mid-July
if you live long enough.
I want to write an essay.
What about? I don’t know. I think I can do it though. It is going to take some trying and some discipline from me though.
