#NaPoWriMo – Day 18: “You’re the Only One I’ve Told This To”

pixelatedeye

 

 

You’re the Only One I’ve Told This To // by Jennifer Patino

 

You told me my every day voice sounds different,
and it’s because it’s actually mine

For once, I took a shoulda and
made a “would you look at that”

I was heard this time, not just
background music,   or a surface scene track

So when you decided to write off my sophomoric soliloquies,
you crumbled the last best year of my life

to the dust and dirt,          where my Gram went
that summer when I returned barely speaking

I wrote barely skimming my grief,   and my
escape routes, my admitted defeat

I wrote constantly with you in mind,   I sang
all the songs you requested

I took all of your recommendations to heart,
so now is not the time to start aiming

suggestions scaled to fit you at me;
We live in a world where comments are over-encouraged,

sour honey sentiments
and poisonous passive aggressive barbs

No blockade can make you un-see,
and no dull blade will make you un-feel

No, you are not going to un-hear me
here in this pixelated Paradise,

in this high-speed Hell            You will
make sure I spill it all like rose oil,

You will sniff toxic LA air in so deeply
to try and cover up the sickly, sweet smell
of my decaying truth

 

napowrimo2018

 

 

#NaPoWriMo – Day 14: “The Plummet”

plummet

 

 

The Plummet // by Jennifer Patino

 

I’m trapped inside a vicious nightmare,
my own body a prison

How does one fight
something that exists
so deep inside?

To remove it
would mean to die
with lack of grace
like the rebel angels
when they fell

When they plummeted down to Earth
only to find
a new version
of a cyclic hell

Over and over,
and over again
choices echo
like whirlwinds

The only sound
answering back
is the howling
and the occasional
knock on the window
from a frightened
tree branch
that tried fruitlessly
to escape its master

The oak trunk
just outside
my battered window
stands tall,
stands proud,
stands strong,
stands its tilled ground

Its strength won’t let me go
no matter how
wicked the winds blow

Barely lucid & paled
are my eyes as they stare,

They find nothing there
but silence
as my innards sear and burn

Look closely and
you’ll see reflecting
off the orange lights, the turn
of my hallucinatory haze

A glimpse,
a shudder,
one gasp,
one tear

One minute turns in
to so many days

If this ship
is emptied,
with no one on board,
my ears will still hear
my own screams,
and the air
will still be
thick with suffering
you can cut through
with a sword

Pierce me now,
end it quick,
for the clocks tick
with every fluttering blink

The spectators choose
to stay blind,
they turn their heads
and count to ten

They pray for forgiveness
as I descend,
alone

I am welcomed
by demons
disguised as men,
but a part of me remains,
surrounded by friends

Time stops,
it restarts,

and it will forever
begin again

 

napowrimo2018

 

* Author’s Note: Another revision today. This one was originally written in 2009 under a different title I wasn’t very happy with. This makes more sense & I have changed a lot of it. The added stanzas to the original give the poem more depth & I included more rhymes because it was losing its flow near the end. I remember exactly where I was when I wrote it along with the scene & the emotions I was trying to portray, & I believe I’ve done a better job articulating it now that I’m so far removed. I don’t even want to share the original here because it’s pretty awful! 😀 

 

 

#NaPoWriMo – Day 12: “On the Floor of Your Apartment”

vinyl

 

 

On the Floor of Your Apartment // by Jennifer Patino

 

He tells me love is the difference between the green apple & the red,

but hunger makes me ignore colors so I don’t see a difference

until he takes a bite from one

 

Those perfect pearls imprinting their message

on the fruit’s thin flesh

 

We walk, dreaming,

then head home & kick out the jams on vinyl,

psychoanalyzing every bleeding lyric

 

The world is our backyard,

& through the dying and the screaming

we can still laugh

because we’re stuck in the good ‘ole days,

 

The times of the Catholic veils & the kickball games,

the bruised knees & the muddy playgrounds

 

We can ignore the current state of animosity

& the humanistic games,

the bruised & battered hearts,

& the filth of the streets

for this one perfect moment

when all that is said to be real doesn’t mean anything anymore

 

The rain falls down through the open sky light

cleansing our naked souls in purity

 

The diamond droplets dance on your eyelashes,

your tongue traces your lips,

& our eyes stay open,

mirroring images of each other

as we float on together through this afternoon sun shower abyss

 

napowrimo2018

 

Author’s Note: I went with a revision today because I’ve had this poem in my mind for the past few days. One line in particular kept standing out to me so I wanted to revisit this piece from 2006. I’m a lot happier with it now.