Poem of the Month - January

"Aisumasen Renee"

I can’t believe
I trashed our friendship with my pen
Can you believe
Renee, Aisumasen?

How could I not know
You would be hurt, so shaken
How can I show
Renee, Aisumasen?

What now can I do
To hear you say, “You’re Forgiven”?
I’m such a fool
Renee, Aisumasen

What else can I do
To make us friends again?
What will we do
To make this loss a gain?

What should I have said?
You would not hear my words then
What I should have said
Renee, Aisumasen

What can I now say?
There is a word I have heard
This word I will say
Renee, Aisumasen
  
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*(12/09/1980)  
My first real poem, please read my comment below on its creation. I'm not looking for critcal reviews of this poem, it is not one of my best works, as likely no one elses first poem a masterpiece. The story behind the inspiration for it is more important than the actual poem, but what it was able to accomplish is what makes it the most important one I have ever written. The lesson I learned after writing “Aisumasen Renee” has guided every poem I have written since.    
  
I had not been planning to post this on here. But after getting several comments and PM's about my poems being very personal and from the heart, I thought it might be a good idea, as it both saves a lot of explaining the same story over and over, and because I hope it helps to explain why I have continued to write poetry 37 years after and perhaps inspire others to reach deep down inside as often as possible. You never know when something you write may change your life.
jj
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I wrote Aisumasen Renee in the early morning hours after John Lennon was killed, during my
Senior year in high school. I had been up all that night after hearing about John’s death and decided there was no way I was going to school that morning. A couple of weeks before, just prior Thanksgiving break, I had done a terrible thing. There was a girl named Renee who was a sweet, innocent person that I had a huge crush on and wanted in the worst way to date.  
 
I was in Electrical shop and Renee was in Cosmetology class across the hall. After finishing an exam early that day, I went to the back of the class and started writing a love letter to her. It started out very nice, but a few minutes later a couple of kids in class finished their exams and came over to see what I was up to. Well, as teenagers will do, they started teasing me and making suggestions as to what I should write in the letter. That was when all the trouble started.  
 
I should have put the letter away and finished it at home, but peer pressure got the best of me and I wound up writing a dirty, nasty letter instead of the love letter I had intended to write. Whatever possessed me to give it to her after “we” were finished writing it is beyond my comprehension still. I gave it to a kid that was going to have his hair cut in the Cosmo class and he set it on her desk when she wasn’t looking. What happened next is painful and embarrassing to this day.  
 
I could hear her crying from across the hall. Then I saw her walk past the classroom door into the office next door with tears running down her face. I’m not sure if I was more sorry for hurting her, or more afraid of what was about to happen to me. It’s awful to think I was worried about getting in trouble, but it’s the truth. Making her cry hurt me deeply, but the fear of the consequences was also very strong.  
 
Then came the moment of truth I had to confess writing the letter. I had not signed it, with good reason, but I knew I would not get away with it, so there was no point in denying the inevitable. I went into the office, confessed and cried my eyes out. Renee wanted to know who had written the letter and she came to the door and saw me sitting there. She started crying again and ran away.  
 
I felt like the lowest scum of the world and wanted to run away myself. Somehow I managed to avoid disciplinary action at school for it. Getting away with it was the worst thing that could’ve happened. All I could think about over the next few weeks was how I might apologize to her. Then came the night John Lennon was shot and I heard the song “Aisumasen”. It seemed like such a beautiful word and I knew immediately that it was the right one for me to let Renee know how I was feeling. I wrote the poem shortly after the song finished playing.  
 
The next day I did not go to school because I was too upset and tired from having been up all night. I got up that afternoon and went to the mall to see if I could find a card that was appropriate for the poem. I found the perfect card with Snoopy apologizing. It just said “I’m Sorry” and that was all it had to say. Then as I was walking to the counter to pay for it, I saw this little statue of Snoopy crying and it also said, “I’m Sorry” on the base. I picked it up and got them both. After I wrote the poem in the card, I packaged them together in a box and mailed it to her. Renee forgave me and we became friends for a time after that. If I had not written that letter, I would never have started writing poetry. Still, I would rather not have written any of my poems if it meant I could go back in time and stop myself that day.  
 
After she forgave me I came to realize how important that poem had been in the repenting process. I don’t know for sure how much of an impact it had on Renee’s forgiveness of me, but it most definitely affected me very deeply. Knowing that I could express my feelings to someone through a poem, and having my apology accepted, gave me a sincere respect for poetry. It wasn’t just an exercise in class anymore; it was a learning experience in life.  
 
It was then that I decided I would continue to write poetry and only write it when my feelings inspired me to write. Poetry is not a game where practice makes perfect. I will not force poems out just to write something, even though all the books about how to write poetry tell you to write every day, as often as possible. To me, it seems false, like writing to please an audience rather than express what is in my heart. For me, that expression is the only reason to write poetry. jj

#relationshipgoals

And then she woke up
Head filled with thunder
Heart split a sunder
Prey to the hunter
And she wonders
Why she's here again
He got into her head again
Words are so sweet
Until the sentences end
She knows what this is
But she likes to pretend

That one day
He'll stay
And he'll say
That he loves her
Without a slur
And he'll mean every word
But those words
Will never be heard
And the longer it lasts
The more it chips away at her
Self confidence
And the moment he left
Felt like a bullet to her chest
He left just like all the rest
I said it's probably for the best

I said
Fuck it!
Sometimes
We have to cut
Those emotional ties
In order to survive
And once again
To actually feel alive
Sometimes we need to take
Solace in solitude
And know
This road
We roam
Is long
But you'll make your own home
Yes you'll finally be strong
On your own

But my words
As always
Fell upon her deaf ears
As she wiped away
An ocean of fresh tears
She professed to me all of her fears

She didn't think
She could live here life
Without a him
Right by her side
Defined by a love
That she couldn't find
So she makes another mistake
And lets another man take
What he wants from her
And leaves her a little bit more broken
And that remains
To this day
Even if it goes unspoken
And the next man comes along
She thinks this really could be the one
She becomes consumed by his love
She can't imagine
Another man's touch

And as two became one
The loneliness seemed to subside
The emptiness inside
Was no longer a place
Where her heart would reside
She loved him so much
But that only made him complacent
Controlling
Manipulative
The corner stones of an abusive relationship

She flat out refused
To acknowledge any of his lies
He could do nothing wrong
In her love stained eyes
He cheats on her multiple times
Because she always just lets that shit slide
Deep down it eats away at her
But it's better than being
Alone in this life

And then one night
She finally decided enough was enough
She said fuck this life
It's way too tough
I've given up on fate
No longer believe in love
I no longer believe
In that emotional connection
Eyedea was right
It's little more
Than a chemical reaction

So she closed her eyes
And fell into the night
Let the darkness overtake her
And said goodbye to this life
And as the darkness got darker
She thought about her mother
Would she wonder
What pushed her daughter
To the edge

And then nothing
And then silence
And then nothing
And then peace

And then she woke up
Head filled with thunder
And she started to wonder
Why she could see the sun rise
It hurt her eyes
But it made her realise
Life is probably worth living
It's not a precursor to her suicide

And that was the day
When she finally decided to let go
She said
How can I expect anyone to love me
If I can't even love myself, ya know?
She said
I don't need a player 2 in my life
I'll brave through this dark
And I'll find my own light
It took me some time
But I think I'll be alright
Plus you were right
I massively need to change my taste in men

She said I've come to realise
That sometimes
We have to cut
Those emotional ties
In order to survive
And once again
To actually feel alive
Sometimes we need to take
Solace in solitude
And know
This road
We roam
Is long
But I'll make my own home
Yes I'll finally be strong
On my own

She said
Sometimes
We have to cut
Those emotional ties
In order to survive
And once again
To actually feel alive
Sometimes we need to take
Solace in solitude
And I was like
wait wait wait wait wait
Those were the exact words
That I said to you
And that my little ginger haired friend
Is called plagiarism
And that ain't cool
That ain't cool
At all




Say Goodbye To These

We've got this cat named kitty
And she doesn't care too much for me
Even though I talk to her in Dothraki
And do the things you do
To try and keep a cat healthy
I give her eats
And I buy her treats
And don't go mad when she shits
All over my sheets
And when she tries to kill me
by tripping up my feets
I'm still like
Awwwwww you so sweet

And she looks at me like
Who the fuck are you
Don't you fucking look at me
Now where the fuck is my food
Go to the fridge
Get the pouch
Then deliver food to mouth
And then fuck you I'm out
Imma go and hunt this mouse

And she kinda looks like toothless From how to train your dragon
Sad eyes
That hide
In a little ball of fluff
But she'll rip the shit out of your posters
If you don't give her any attention
Then just like P.O.S
She'll be like fuck your stuff

But I love the shit out of that little kitty
Even though she clearly
Prefers my housemates to me
And although she'll never invite me
to one of her cat parties
At least she's not a fucking dog

Christmas caught me
like a rusty wire coat hanger
smacked
across the back
of my naked legs

friends i'd made
forgot to phone
fuck me in the end
i can get in trouble all on my own thank you

spitting
coughing up
yellow
creamy
chicken noodle soup chunks

their white chalk
drew my outline
on sewage pavement
in the gutter of night

i'd buy more
into your words
welps
if it brought me closer to your god

She began as a coin dropped
in a wishing well by a hopeful man,
his heart aflame for what he
couldn’t touch,
swirling in currents
he could hardly understand,
and she, a waif, beginning
only upon his desirous pleas,
that, so alive, she had never wanted
this to be.

So she was summoned from
the depths, blue and dark,
where unknowns lay like
dormant plants in root form.
Her spring wore Narcissi
in bloom along her frail wrists ---
Her frame was breakable but
her heart wasn’t for it was
wrought from stone,
deep within the earths plunderings
when man found her.

In man’s dreams she arose
ethereal and light with transparency.
Her light blues wore white in her
nonexistent glory as she
grew wings slowly,
one vein at a time.
What flowed was substance never
created by any God ---
Oh, man, I cannot know your
meanderings but to not know
whom I really am.

Poetically she smiled,
erupting lavender musings
that became visions of a future ---
Man so led the little girl
into her pastels of mint green
and innocent pinks and corals;
how his thoughts tainted her
yet she remained pure,
here in his covetings;
in the crystalline capsule
of his mind.

By night she wandered
the barren folds of expectations
and a worlds language
while he slept,
writing her own journey
while his pen lay still.

She searched far and wide for
a way to be understood,
but she then returned to her
cocoon in waiting for the man
to evoke her.
She had no identity to show,
no self to lay claim to, she was
in theory, his alone.

How she wanted, in this way
to be owned by him, for him
to grasp her heart as it beat,
to a God-source unfounded
by anything real.

Oh, man, give birth to me
for my wings grow heavy,
within, set me free,
for I shall always return to you
in winters and springs sleeping
among the growing things.

You will only know me
to flutter your heart
and soften the stings
of the worlds cruelties,
of people and their follies,
and I will alight you as you sleep
so within will you know me,
as so without will you write of me.

It was in these moments she
was born in the man’s tales,
a pastel rainbow from a well
of unknowns and intangibles.
How she molded herself to him
and became his hearts desire.

Yet, she was but a poem;
a plot conspired in
lucid dreams and sunlit instants
of this emerging centerpiece --
To write of her is to love her.

How the man craved her
illusive revelations of
himself in her;
how this was how he wanted to
love her ---
Passionately, fervently,
and in every word he could find.

But the words were never
quite enough to form her completely;
her gauzy presence eluded him.
Her white face was but a
ghastly apparition of
himself fading, aging.

And as the little girl grew
and became wise,
she surrounded him in
dissolution and disenchantment.
Her wisdom was of the ages as
her eyes became hollow, dark and empty
as the wordless peace
was a blizzard of cold reconnaisance
falling on a frozen landscape of
the man’s hidden potential.
And under it lay her,
unborn and unfound and unformed ---
Encased in crystal pools in his mind.

And in the deep well where
fluidity is constant,
so do man’s covetings dwell ---
So does the man ever return
to where gravitates
all unanswerable wishes,
all the Worlds loose change.
As he gazed into the wishing well,
the countless pennies
became his tears.