Cardboard Box Poem

Stepping into the box
I close the cardboard door
calling it prison.
Putting weights on top
I dragged to-dos inside
until there was no room to breathe.

When I heard no new box would come
I saw the disarray of my prison box.
The to-dos were holding the weights at bay.
There was no escape.

Then I saw my heart cracking,
Then I knew I had to slumber,
Then in the morning’s light I saw
I had put the weight on myself.
I could release the to-dos.
I found my breath and joy
watching my troubles prance away.

My Nightmare Mind Box

writing

My mind is a box, lately, that I am trapped inside. My optimism says there must be a door, a window, or a hidden way out. I don’t see one. All I see are wall entrapping myself in my mind causing me to be unable to do much of anything I would consider being me.

To the left is the security of my day job, creating a thick time-consuming wall. To the right is my obligations and my bills stacked as high as my job with no holes to escape from. Behind me is my past failures, current fears, and reminders that the future can not be known. There is a reason my back is towards that wall, by focusing on that wall I would sit down, stop fighting and accept the box I’m in. Above me, on the ceiling of this box are all the people, careers, and talents that I compare myself to. I place them above me, although I am the only me. Below me are all my ideas trapped under glass in a cloudy stew of tar and mire. Still I know they’re there, just like a mother knows her baby. In front of me are painting of could-be’s, maybe’s, and the future if I only live my current life . I know there are keys to unlock each painting, except for the immanent future, that one does not need a key. The keys to my dream futures are unknown, lost or far from me. I do not believe they are in this box. All I can do is stand and look at the pretty pictures hoping and looking for at least one key.

Perhaps breaking the glass under my feet will lead to a key.

Questions (A Poem)

poetry

For a little while now I have had a feelings for someone, well a crush on someone. I have written a few poems about this and have not posted them, because it was too fresh. Now, that it is on the tail end I feel comfortable sharing the poetry I wrote. 

If I write about you
will these butterflies fly away?
If I admit my feeling
will my heart slow its racing?
If I stare at your picture
will my heart remember to beat when I see your face?
Can you answer my questions?
Let me know you’re listening,
show me you care
or should I back away,
silently slink into the shadows,
back pedal and back up,
should I let you know
or let these feelings go?
Can you answer my questions?
Say you’ll slowly signal for more
or tell me to take off.
Either way speak,
answer my questions
that I cannot ask.

no sleep

poetry

No, no you can not sleep

not when the sun-shines

not when the heat beats.

No there is no slumber

not when they day is bright

and the sun shines it’s light.

No, no you can not sleep

not until the night falls

and the sun sets.

No there is no sleep

not under the children closes their eyes

and the nights cools your tan.