giving up on life
by rcribay
the queen
size box spring
taunts me
in the foyer
knowing
no matter how
hard we push
it will never
fit up that
staircase.
the queen
size box spring
taunts me
in the foyer
knowing
no matter how
hard we push
it will never
fit up that
staircase.
AKA: on my upcoming 3 day absence from the sieve
tight in my tummy
tight in my thoughts
i prepare myself for travel
with stomach knots
flying makes me grumpy
but new places i enjoy
thought control i’ll attempt
thanksgiving i’ll employ
i wish i could drink whiskey
without the stomach rot
i know it’d help me relax
and help me forget thought
thirty six hours is too long to travel
no matter where you go
but thankfully it wont take three months
like by an old boat – slow
i’ll put my head down and get there
no matter what i do
arrive there eventually
I WILL I WILL I WILL
sadness hits me
staring out the
passenger side
window at the
art museum’s
columns and steps in
the stagnant orange
air underneath
these street lamps
as the stop light
changes and the
car begins to
move.
Twenty four hours of forty eight
Partying like a rock star from noon to one late
Now I’m kinda sorta in trouble cuz my brother can’t relay vivid directions
While I sit at my laptop making poetry corrections
they set out to take on the
massive evil beast, grabbing hold of
tail
torso
back
neck
then the head
gasping for air
it blew forth fire
they searched for the fabled
weak spot between four
scales
but his strength outdid them all-
talons of six inches, eight inches, more
he grabbed them each and took to flight
flinging them against a mountain
but it was made of jello
this was their goal.
Scientists announced Tuesday that our love is expanding at an infinite rate. While this perpetual growth cannot be seen, it can be concluded based upon observable effects. For example, the wavelengths of Time Spent Not Thinking About Each Other (T.S.N.T.A.E.O.) are exponentially drifting further apart, resulting in an undeniable red shift. Three predictions regarding the fate of these findings have been put forth by the scientific community: 1. Our love will continue to expand infinitely; 2. Our love will continue to grow, but the rate at which it does so will slow and approach a limit; 3. Our love will eventually peak and then subsequently collapse in upon itself, creating a black hole from which even light cannot escape.
i took the road less traveled
and was a little disappointed
unpaved i found it muddy
and mosquito ridden
at times a tree had fallen
covering the path and making
it difficult to traverse
i entered through the narrow gate
but first had to lose some weight
squeezed my shoulders through
and caught my arm on a spike
contracting tetanus
quit romanticizing things we must do
sometimes it sucks
and gives me diarrhea
drifting and blinking
constellations
all but three
escaped my jar
above leaves
of shadowed trees
beneath a sky
lit by lightning
equally ephemeral
similarly silent.
people never told me
the more you understand
the more fully you can become
overwhelmed
no no.
thats right, they did say
ignorance is bliss
but they left it painted
on a wall
in a book they called
fiction
Hospice
A word with all the powers of a magnet
Drawing things together
Somethings are shunned and wish to be repelled
But they always return
Others are accepted easily
But can never come back
Everything attracted has something in common
Power to express emotions
Love
Pain
Fear
Last wishes- like fire -are warm
But too much fire surrounding one self becomes
The source of more love
The source of more pain
The source of more fear
The smoke becomes a heavy blanket
Smothering its starter
To reduce the burden a stand must be made
One of courage where friends may be hurt
You can piss out the fire
But you cant piss out the pain
Great difficulty lies on the path where you try to be kind and loving
But sacrifices must be made
To live the rest of ones days with only the closest people to their heart.
forgets the stage
ya’ll to whom i’m talking
quietly sneaks away to semi private room
toots
laughs that it can be called that
toots again
smiles
runs and then looks back
finds people ogling the word
t
o
oo
o
t
transient
olfactory
orifice
transmission
wednesday night i looked
up and realized
i had forgotten the
sky
transfixed by my (re)discovery
i stared until
stars (re)appeared
thousands by
the second
i (re)ached for your hand
forgot what we left east of us
as we escaped into central PA
meanwhile
stars continued to (re)appear
and the sky seemed so saturated
i half expected
it
to exhale.
your torrential downpour -
wash us clean from our pride
to remind us
of things we cannot control
your voice alone is the thunder
your grace alone is the rain
no matter the price of gas
you will not cease to send your rain
people dying in earthquakes
those who will drown today in oceans
they’re as real as this house
this street, this page, these words
and my wife.
you created life
we try so hard to harness
you alone create.
how small i am and how big you are
to strike down,
create
destroy
remembering that you are not safe
but you are good
your rain
so thick i cannot see
you remind us who you are
and who are
we.
water from a hose
hot before cool and passed
brother to brother—
the break worthwhile
untainted by man
like bottled water will be
and much much purer—
for guzzles earned
when I-25
reached one end to the other
my house to Grandpa’s—
places for play
A celebration of life occurs once and only once in every year
For every single person who lives life fully and believing,
Paying attention to now and not saying the end is near.
Now is the time for me to say happy birthday from a son
who’ll keep believing that you’ll keep achieving
sometimes i get confused
between hobbits
chopping trees
and italian food
I work in order to be at my leisure
but I am not at my leisure because I work;
this sick circle takes me around
and around and around yet again
with no exit in sight until the
ripe age of 65. 62 if I’m lucky.
59 1/2 if I’m ridiculously lucky.
Lucky thing that I married money,
(which hasn’t paid off yet
but may before I’m 59 1/2,
if I’m not dead by then,
or maimed, or paralyzed,
either physically or mentally
by the stultifying effects of life)
as a means of saving my zest for life.
Rising tension in my home
Makes me appreciate the peace,
That once freely did roam,
Now captivated creature we need to release.
*
Like a pipe blocked and filled with steam,
The pressure uprise could be
An inferno or geyser it would seem
When it explodes higher than a tree.
Rules can be bent
Crossing bridges over streams.
Our eyes will adjust
I consider myself to be a normal boy
(perhaps even a normal man)
with normal likes and dislikes
(such as apple pie and country music),
but then I question all this
when I find myself liking the smell of my own farts
rating the quality of each I release.
oh sweet refuse, filling the air
byproduct of my own waste,
handiwork of my own bowels.
sink
somewhere in the pacific swallowed perhaps
by
the waves of this cold black ocean as their
sandals
wash ashore: and this we cannot even begin
to comprehend
despite
our in
tern
et a
cc
e
s
s.
Summoning all my courage and reciting
the Bene Gesserit litany against fear
I plunged my hand beneath the water
grasping the cardboard
with which in my stupidity
I had clogged the toilet
when you run everyday for a week
without changing your clothes
the whole house can be ruined
by the overwhelming smell
of those stinky socks
like that
i intend to invade your thoughts
Riding off into the sunset
isn’t as glamorous as in the movies;
in stead of being triumphant,
really it’s just a lot of squinting
and wishing for sunglasses.
Genuine and synthetic happiness is therapeutic while summer thoughts of joyful and depressing moments in one’s own history and genealogy caress and tear upon their minds
it takes a skill
few have
and reserves
few care to create
or hold
a skill we have
and reserves we maintain
the sieve and the sand
will leave its
own fragrant
mark
