Since that phone call yesterday
I can't do a mother-fucking thing,
but stare, and do laps around my house.
Your name alone has that effect
On my life without you.
Cocaine...
Checking
For what?
Even I don't know for certain.
I can't seem to form it into a
shape that I can name, or define.
I have never felt like this before.
And I've been through hell
with, and without permission.
17 windows secured.
4 doors locked every way available.
0 chimneys to worry about,
but give me a minute and I might invent one.
How long is too long to listen for noises?
Which noises are real, and which are self invented?
It doesn't matter because, I feel it.
Coming on like the 5 O'clock news in a mental ward.
Or rain on your only day off to go fish.
Darting eyes
Uneasy posture
Dripping palms
Ringing ears
Cotton mouth
Anxiety saturating
Predisposition disposing
Telephone yanked
House over cleaned
Friends turned away
Family sent to safer waters
Public contact shunned, yet monitored.
Instinctually strained like a bowl of dinner noodles.
Fridge alphabetised, twice.
All realistic priorities neglected.
Completely unnerved,
and as jumpy as a cheap motion detector
light on a retired couple's garage.
I'm setting new perimeters to
Joe Joe Dancer's last waltz.
I am afraid of you
Has it been that long?
Seperation did not make my heart grow fonder.
It turned me into you.
Searching with no good eye to close.
Mother's coming home,
and everyone is watching me wait
For one more chance
To bury this hatchet
once, and for all.
Only time will tell me
What you could never.
Author notes
Written January 5th, 2004
In a list
A contest entry
- Drugs and Ciggarettes... by NikoAmbiguous.
300 points, ended May 29, 2006, 15 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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i like the way you wrote this - and this poem is jsut good all about. thanks for entering it into my contest! it's a good write
<3 jerusha -
yeah this was good. i'm not sure how it replies to drugs but it was still good. and yeah good job and thanks for entering.
~later~ -
it doesn't really say anything about drugs, but i get how it can be taken that way. good job, thanks for entering
-
this writing is excellent. you so accurately describe what i have lived over and over for so many years - i dont even want to calculate. what is impressive is that you captured the stuttered, disjointed thinking and paranoia so eloquently.
from the darting eyes to the waltz is my favorite section and the line that most strongly affected me was "Public contact shunned, yet monitored." for some reason that seemed to characterize and represent so much more than i wanted to know. very nice poem. -
wow, i really like this poem...its kind of what i was looking for. great write. i like your style. good luck in the contest. thanks for entering.
-Isa -
Ah, good call, great note.
-
Seperation did not make my heart grow founder
-fonder? perhaps....
have to agree with plinky, with the burying of the hatchet, that's what i thought also, but, i thought more in the back or face, than in the head...nice nice
blood guts and glory, ...yup, id say this one does it for me
Nyx... -
thought you were gioing to put bury this hatchet...in mothers head...read nervy and jumpy and quick. liked the finish as well.
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