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Array
(
[sid] => 180730
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => these days
[time] => 2015-03-08 03:15:15
[hometext] => some feedback would be nice. thank you for reading.
[bodytext] => there’s a thin line between boredom and I miss you. these days, on an occasional Sunday, you are where I end up. I run the same errands every couple of hours. I cook for a starved party of one, who’s never hungry when it’s time to eat. I try to write but it doesn’t come out the way I feel. I play musical chairs with my thoughts and find enlightenment every ten minutes only to lose sight of it every five. understanding isn’t the same as finding assurance. I smell the scent left on my clothes in attempt at remembering who I am. I let the water stream as I sit in the shower. tucking my knees into my chest pretending they’re your arms. I stare at the grout connecting the pieces of tile creating lines of compromise between what I thought you needed and what I wanted to give you. I finish bottles of wine and arrange them like flowers. white,red. I try to read but I see your initials everywhere and it drives. me. mad. I can’t write though I reserve the right to blame it on my inability to find my favorite pen. I stare at the clock. I stare at the clock because I am out of errands to run. I cook for a starved party who’s lost her appetite. I can’t find words. I play mind games though it doesn’t bring me any insight. I smell clothes. I still don’t recognize myself, my scent. my arms are terrible at being yours. my vision’s blurry and I don’t know if it’s the tears or the bottles of flowers. I find my pen. I write your initials. there’s a thin line between boredom and I miss you. on an occasional Sunday, I can’t tell the difference. these days, I run errands but you, you are always where I end up.
[comments] => 3
[counter] => 269
[topic] => 43
[informant] => Cathartic
[notes] =>
[ihome] => 0
[alanguage] => english
[acomm] => 0
[haspoll] => 0
[pollID] => 0
[score] => 0
[ratings] => 0
[editpoem] => 1
[associated] =>
[topicname] => oops
)
these days
Contributed by
Cathartic
on
Sunday, 8th March 2015 @ 03:15:15 AM in AEST
Topic:
oops
|
there’s a thin line between boredom and I miss you. these days, on an occasional Sunday, you are where I end up. I run the same errands every couple of hours. I cook for a starved party of one, who’s never hungry when it’s time to eat. I try to write but it doesn’t come out the way I feel. I play musical chairs with my thoughts and find enlightenment every ten minutes only to lose sight of it every five. understanding isn’t the same as finding assurance. I smell the scent left on my clothes in attempt at remembering who I am. I let the water stream as I sit in the shower. tucking my knees into my chest pretending they’re your arms. I stare at the grout connecting the pieces of tile creating lines of compromise between what I thought you needed and what I wanted to give you. I finish bottles of wine and arrange them like flowers. white,red. I try to read but I see your initials everywhere and it drives. me. mad. I can’t write though I reserve the right to blame it on my inability to find my favorite pen. I stare at the clock. I stare at the clock because I am out of errands to run. I cook for a starved party who’s lost her appetite. I can’t find words. I play mind games though it doesn’t bring me any insight. I smell clothes. I still don’t recognize myself, my scent. my arms are terrible at being yours. my vision’s blurry and I don’t know if it’s the tears or the bottles of flowers. I find my pen. I write your initials. there’s a thin line between boredom and I miss you. on an occasional Sunday, I can’t tell the difference. these days, I run errands but you, you are always where I end up.
Copyright ©
Cathartic
... [
2015-03-08 03:15:15]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: these days
(User Rating: 1 )
by JamesStockdale on
Sunday, 8th March 2015 @ 08:50:25 AM AEST
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a Message)
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Its pretty weird in a great way.
It starts out to me as one thing and then it grabs me as when I was younger I know that feeling all to well. In my 50's now nothing like that is so intense and I can not let it get to me as I can blow off that mindset easily- its a youth thing I guess. Well done.
I do wonder how this reads with folks with tablets or small monitors- its very wide |
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Re: these days
(User Rating: 1 )
by unknown_utopia on
Monday, 9th March 2015 @ 12:13:46 AM AEST
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a Message)
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I can relate to this flow
being null n void
when you really wanna write
but the innervisions fade on you,
thanx for sharing....
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Re: these days
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Monday, 9th March 2015 @ 02:27:03 AM AEST
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a Message)
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I liked it, especially the very last line. Been there...a lot! But (yes there's always that damn but) the formatting made it a little hard to read on a computer for me. Maybe it's my weak eyes. I think it may have worked better (for me) if it would have been broken up into stanzas and flowed down the page instead of one huge single paragraph.
However, it's your poetry and I believe the poet should write their poems the way they want to and not the way others think they should.
Thank you,
Tim |
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