When it Rings Will You Answer?

One and One and One is Three

Posts Tagged ‘bad poems

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they loved each other
it was a selfish love
they kept it hidden from the rest the world
it was not ready for its beauty

they built a home for their hearts
their bodies would then follow
they did not need anything else
they would not have known if they did

they loved each other
it was anything but selfish
the world would be ready
but not today

Written by josiahh

January 3, 2015 at 11:27 AM

He Sits Alone and Drinks

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he sits alone and drinks
he doesn’t know how he ended up here
while he pours another he’ll reminisce
i used to be happy, he”ll think
i used to have friends
he sits alone and drinks
he sits alone and thinks it’s everyone else but him
it can’t be him
another swig and the anger seeps in
another swig and he feels the tears
he can’t remember the last time
anyone had even asked him how he was
he can’t remember if anyone had asked if he was okay
he sits alone and drinks
he’ll trace it back to her
her memory will take the brunt of his temper
he sits alone and drinks because she went away
she went away because he sits alone and drinks

Written by josiahh

May 18, 2014 at 9:20 PM

DAY EIGHT – “An Outlandish House”

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This house! This house! This outlandish house
You wouldn’t believe what you saw in this house
A bowling alley with three hundred lanes
five separate hangars for ten separate planes
This house! This house! This outlandish house
You wouldn’t believe what you saw in this house
Ten thousand people and that’s just the staff
I’m telling you all there’s even a freaking giraffe!
This house! This house! This outlandish house
You wouldn’t believe what you saw in this house
The five hundred swimming pools are both in and outdoor
While each winding hall leads to another liquor store
This house! This house! This outlandish house
You wouldn’t believe what you saw in this house
There are Escher stairs for the hell of it
And a Labyrinth where at the centre the Goblin King sits
I swear that I’m telling you the god’s honest truth
Riding a unicorn I’ve seen Babe Ruth
And as he rode by
I heard him decry
Oh this house! This house! This outlandish house
You wouldn’t believe what you saw in this house

Not With a Bang but With a Whimper

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Through hazy eyes

She saw the world

Not how it was

But how she thought it should be

She doesn’t remember

The moment it happened

She doesn’t remember

Giving in

Through clear eyes

She sees the world

Exactly how it is

Written by josiahh

March 29, 2014 at 5:22 PM

Embarrassing Throwbacks: “One milk, two sugar”

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***I found this in a notebook. I wrote it eight years ago. It’s so terrible I felt the need to share.***

ONE MILK TWO SUGAR

I asked her once if she was happy. She looked straight through me and answered simple and true, “one milk, two sugar.” She was lost, that much I could tell. So was I. When I asked her where she was from, “one milk, two sugar.” I asked her where she was headed, “one milk, two sugar.” There was something about her that kept me asking questions. Mesmerized and unable to walk away, I longed to hear her voice. It was small and timid yet towering and terrifying. I felt as though I was a small child starved for his mother’s apathetic ear. Completely willing to walk to the end of the world for a simple nod, pat on the back, or a wink of an eye. Anything but, “one milk, two sugar.”

What was it that she was looking for? I couldn’t stand it. She was damaged and I couldn’t fix her. I was helpless and at the mercy of this tragically flawed figurehead. A shining beacon for the lost and broken. She turned to me and grasped my hand and said, “one milk, two sugar” and I understood.

It’s been eight months since I’ve seen her. I haven’t heard from her in ten. Her voice still resonates deep within. “My darling boy, the world may beat us down and our loves may break our hearts and leave us but we’ll always have the afterlife to meet for tea and make things right. One milk, two sugar.”

 

No Amount of Fire or Freshness

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you thought you saw her last night
and you lost your breath
your head knew that it wasn’t
but your heart still wished for death
you are joylessly bound by the thought of her presence
and driven to an edge you hoped you’d never reach
desperate, you claw at one last shred of redemption
but that is not the lesson they teach
no, that is not the lesson that they teach

Written by josiahh

April 10, 2013 at 9:19 AM

Burned Out Lights on His Christmas Tree

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 the burned out lights on his Christmas tree don’t bother him one bit
 because in his mind they’re only sleeping
 just waiting to be lit
 he’ll patiently wait until Christmas day for his burned out lights to wake
 but if they don’t, he won’t be upset
 because the burned out lights on his Christmas tree
 just weren’t ready yet.
 So he’ll pack them up for another year
 and wait and wait and wait
 for his burned out lights to perform would bring him Christmas cheer.
 
 
 
 

Written by josiahh

December 5, 2012 at 12:23 PM