Submissions by brokentitanium (k.)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I'm just a human living my life, and this is where I spill the stuff I can't say out loud. Sometimes the words arrange themselves nicely, and that's pretty cool.
herself
fine is just a word
to make the questions end
spending all her energy
on games of let’s pretend
sinking into pain
lifts her out of hurt today
something to control
when control feels far away
she’s the master here
can choose which pain to feel
she exchanges blood for tears
when reality’s too real
knows it isn’t right
says she’ll stop tomorrow
but then tomorrow comes
filled with the same sorrow
you’d give all your sunshine
to take away her gray
how were you so blind
not to...
to make the questions end
spending all her energy
on games of let’s pretend
sinking into pain
lifts her out of hurt today
something to control
when control feels far away
she’s the master here
can choose which pain to feel
she exchanges blood for tears
when reality’s too real
knows it isn’t right
says she’ll stop tomorrow
but then tomorrow comes
filled with the same sorrow
you’d give all your sunshine
to take away her gray
how were you so blind
not to...
#MentalHealth
#NaPoWriMo2022
397 reads
4 Comments
Farts and Cheese
I asked my girl for a poetry cue;
she told me, “farts and cheese.”
I guess I’m lucky she didn’t say “poo,”
but seriously, kid?? Geez!
It’s not that hard to write about farts
in a house full of Crohn’s Disease,
but I’m not quite sure I have the smarts
to relate flatulence to cheese.
Shall I write about cheese that smells like a fart?
I’ve encountered some of these…
But it takes a different sort of art
to depict farts that smell like cheese.
I googled the words, just for fun
to assist with this uphill climb. ...
she told me, “farts and cheese.”
I guess I’m lucky she didn’t say “poo,”
but seriously, kid?? Geez!
It’s not that hard to write about farts
in a house full of Crohn’s Disease,
but I’m not quite sure I have the smarts
to relate flatulence to cheese.
Shall I write about cheese that smells like a fart?
I’ve encountered some of these…
But it takes a different sort of art
to depict farts that smell like cheese.
I googled the words, just for fun
to assist with this uphill climb. ...
#teens
#funny
#WritingPoetry #NaPoWriMo2022
#WritingPoetry #NaPoWriMo2022
487 reads
8 Comments
Choose Love
Your touch,
your love,
the intimate collision of our souls
will hurt.
There’s no way past this fact.
Flawed humans can’t mingle
without bumping sharp edges,
and ego tears easily
as spider webs in a hail storm.
The truth is, I could have chosen anyone,
if it was just about worth or deserving.
All souls are of infinite value,
though misshapen by circumstance
or heredity
or trauma --
so all are worth suffering for,
once you decide to know them.
But with my limited capacity for suffering,
I chose...
your love,
the intimate collision of our souls
will hurt.
There’s no way past this fact.
Flawed humans can’t mingle
without bumping sharp edges,
and ego tears easily
as spider webs in a hail storm.
The truth is, I could have chosen anyone,
if it was just about worth or deserving.
All souls are of infinite value,
though misshapen by circumstance
or heredity
or trauma --
so all are worth suffering for,
once you decide to know them.
But with my limited capacity for suffering,
I chose...
#love
#courage
#honesty #NaPoWriMo2022
#honesty #NaPoWriMo2022
431 reads
4 Comments
Tell the boss I’m starting late today
Your discontent preceded you
sounding footfalls on the floor
couched in a kiss so heavily intentional;
the right thing to do before heading out the door
But the eyes and tone spoke disapproval.
Immediately flipping through mental list:
What promise did I make that I’ve forgotten?
What expected duty have I missed?
So this morning I’m folding, I’m scrubbing, I’m sorting --
it won’t be perfection, but I’ll make it alright,
to prove that we’re still on the same team here
and leave nothing open for judgement tonight.
sounding footfalls on the floor
couched in a kiss so heavily intentional;
the right thing to do before heading out the door
But the eyes and tone spoke disapproval.
Immediately flipping through mental list:
What promise did I make that I’ve forgotten?
What expected duty have I missed?
So this morning I’m folding, I’m scrubbing, I’m sorting --
it won’t be perfection, but I’ll make it alright,
to prove that we’re still on the same team here
and leave nothing open for judgement tonight.
#anxiety
#marriage
#MentalHealth #NaPoWriMo2022
#MentalHealth #NaPoWriMo2022
209 reads
2 Comments
Legacy of a Dad
To me you were always the high-strung professor,
rarely present except to storm out of your study
with a voice like booming thunder,
“who took my scissors??”
Making it clear our presence
was an inconvenience
to your comfortable routine
and military orderliness.
We offered bald-faced denials
wrought by fear,
followed by surreptitious returns
of “borrowed” items…
when you weren’t looking.
It’s how I learned to keep a straight face
and to disappear.
But occasionally,
there was the playful you ...
rarely present except to storm out of your study
with a voice like booming thunder,
“who took my scissors??”
Making it clear our presence
was an inconvenience
to your comfortable routine
and military orderliness.
We offered bald-faced denials
wrought by fear,
followed by surreptitious returns
of “borrowed” items…
when you weren’t looking.
It’s how I learned to keep a straight face
and to disappear.
But occasionally,
there was the playful you ...
#love
#regret
#father
#memories
#NaPoWriMo2022
316 reads
8 Comments
Pour me another stimulant
Mondays are
so
gloopy
Despite best intentions to
get
shit
done
moments glom together
like stale, fused ju-jubes
brain
moving
slowly
….
tick
tock
….
tick
tock
….
molasses
style
until big sticky chunks of time
have passed suddenly
without checkmarks on the to-do list
meanwhile the world
dives
gleefully
into
productivity ...
so
gloopy
Despite best intentions to
get
shit
done
moments glom together
like stale, fused ju-jubes
brain
moving
slowly
….
tick
tock
….
tick
tock
….
molasses
style
until big sticky chunks of time
have passed suddenly
without checkmarks on the to-do list
meanwhile the world
dives
gleefully
into
productivity ...
#morning
#coffee
#NaPoWriMo2022
513 reads
12 Comments
Pen vomit
No words in my mouth
No phrases in my head
No sentences in my mind
My language is dead
No steps in my legs
No strength in my back
No ideas in my brain
All these things I lack
But words are expected
So thoughts I must think
I'm hoping my pen
Can barf out some good ink
My legs ran with me
Fifteen kilometers today
There's no gas in my tank
I don't know what to say
So I'll just play word-Jenga
With these tidbits that rhyme
And save the deep meanings
For some other time
No phrases in my head
No sentences in my mind
My language is dead
No steps in my legs
No strength in my back
No ideas in my brain
All these things I lack
But words are expected
So thoughts I must think
I'm hoping my pen
Can barf out some good ink
My legs ran with me
Fifteen kilometers today
There's no gas in my tank
I don't know what to say
So I'll just play word-Jenga
With these tidbits that rhyme
And save the deep meanings
For some other time
#sleep
#WritingPoetry
#apathy #NaPoWriMo2022
#apathy #NaPoWriMo2022
287 reads
11 Comments
The space beside
I want to tell you of the blueness of sky
and the sound of geese flying over today
and that scene in a movie that made me cry
and the beautiful song that blew me away
I want to carry you around all day
in the pocket closest to my heart
so we can just laugh and talk and play
and not feel always so far apart
Instead there’s an empty space beside me
I carry it everywhere I roam
I’m complete; it’s not a hole inside me
I just long for connection that feels like home
and the sound of geese flying over today
and that scene in a movie that made me cry
and the beautiful song that blew me away
I want to carry you around all day
in the pocket closest to my heart
so we can just laugh and talk and play
and not feel always so far apart
Instead there’s an empty space beside me
I carry it everywhere I roam
I’m complete; it’s not a hole inside me
I just long for connection that feels like home
#love
#loneliness
#friendship #NaPoWriMo2022
#friendship #NaPoWriMo2022
577 reads
15 Comments
Schrodinger’s antidepressant
I once hallucinated a cat.
Not there until I saw it,
gone the moment I looked,
it was definitely there.
I know it wasn’t a flight of imagination,
or interpretation of movement or light.
There were no bushes to rustle
and no shadows in that open moonlit field.
I wasn’t thinking about cats
(or of anything really)
just returning to my tent
after brushing my teeth at the campground.
But anyway, there it was
just left of my feet
and I actually dodged to avoid it
lest we get entangled
in my visual cortex.
I...
Not there until I saw it,
gone the moment I looked,
it was definitely there.
I know it wasn’t a flight of imagination,
or interpretation of movement or light.
There were no bushes to rustle
and no shadows in that open moonlit field.
I wasn’t thinking about cats
(or of anything really)
just returning to my tent
after brushing my teeth at the campground.
But anyway, there it was
just left of my feet
and I actually dodged to avoid it
lest we get entangled
in my visual cortex.
I...
#depression
#memories
#MentalHealth #NaPoWriMo2022
#MentalHealth #NaPoWriMo2022
371 reads
12 Comments
523 reads
25 Comments
521 reads
10 Comments
Pick-up Sticks
There was no such thing as time then.
Just low winter sun
streaming through window panes,
casting angular shadows on the rug –
Was it greenish?
Some nondescript colour that hid dog-vomit spots.
Unlike the zebra-stripe shag by the fireplace,
this rug was rough enough
to burn wrestling elbows
but thick enough to cushion the sound of a head strike.
Pick-up sticks were easier on the rug;
The hardwood was too slippery.
We had such attention spans then,
carefully levering the reds
out from under the blues and greens,...
Just low winter sun
streaming through window panes,
casting angular shadows on the rug –
Was it greenish?
Some nondescript colour that hid dog-vomit spots.
Unlike the zebra-stripe shag by the fireplace,
this rug was rough enough
to burn wrestling elbows
but thick enough to cushion the sound of a head strike.
Pick-up sticks were easier on the rug;
The hardwood was too slippery.
We had such attention spans then,
carefully levering the reds
out from under the blues and greens,...
#childhood
#memories
#nostalgia #NaPoWriMo2022
#nostalgia #NaPoWriMo2022
344 reads
10 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by brokentitanium (k.)