06 | March | 2013 | Golden Star Poetry

I don’t think I will ever be involved in this sort of meaningless jabber that goes on with High school kids . It lowers your moral value, lowers your grades, and lowers your overall happiness! I just wast to say that teenage drama is utterly stupid. Thank you. Thank you.

Stream of Consciousness #3: Average teenager- in school drama, after school drama, after hours drama.

in school drama

why did I light the first lamp

when his light burned out I screamed, your thoughts on paper, they scream back at me, and I am left,

with a cold ashen shadow

of what I have forgotten

you are leaving me rotten,

often, i am reminded, of your shirt which smells always like detergent

deterrent I am reminded

your thoughts as fuzzy and as warm I cuddle you

what good is that you say

I say it

we are all bargaining

on the source of our good wishes was it the farmer or the carpool or the fish in the pool it was so nice so warm so hapy

so much like you when all of us are relentless

like you we make a sacrifice to some unknown god, name it heaven, and paint it with plaster like our own divine deity.

like that will help, i say

you say

we are all bargaining like our sheep grazing somewhere,

only he who knows it can decipher

me reading notes to myself and when i read them I do not know what I have written

it is cat and mouse we play,

but the song’s so catchy, the song’s so matchy rhymy you get the idea

I was stranded on these last three notes ,words you left me in this note and that I was forced to live with.

I did not strive to be myself I should have but I did not and i was swept away into an anomaly of sorts when bashed counterparts play in the assembly and they sing without

my telling

or knowing

or the understanding of one night without pie or my lemon warm fuzzy

your lemon pie you say

i say

we are all bargaining.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x xx x x x x x x

after school drama

come on, let us play you say, firstly that ball is soaked in mud EWWW i don’t want to touch it now your dirty hands on this carpet on the grass slick and sleek like newly washed sea otters now not they give you kind signature smiles, she waves back to the camera and expects to get some sort of response

she lifts up your finger and you do what she says, and you do what she says no matter what and she says the grass was hers and so the mud and the grass and the land all hers and yours and hers and yours and you smiled and she was gone and you sat there on the grass and the mud

dripping

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

after hours drama

like one night

at holy shrine

one time there was a ruckus in the parking lot

and you

but you refused to move

to budge, even,

when i tipped you over you just fell

like a silent statue

you cried with me one time

and I relented having you as a friend

if the ” big boys don’t cry you cry

and if they shove you, you die

when the coffin is buried you breathe in a sigh

and get buried alive

and don’t care.

and lie

cry

you were a companion, you know

i say,

that time is here and gone

now gone

you spit at the ground and shove bottles in my hand and give out the largest little scream and yell until your face is blue and you don’t know what to do

stop trying to be yourself, stop trying to be yourself for god’s sakes, stop it.