Only Ideas

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
taken from my book, "As The Marker Snaps"

Submitted: July 20, 2014

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Submitted: July 20, 2014

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Only Ideas

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Kinda got stuck in reverse

__in my heart's transmission

But to what do I owe this honor to

__of going backwards?

When I find myself

Will I look ugly?

Questions go nowhere over a long span across

__the fields of wonder and awe

But whatever the deal with life is

The snap of the marker

And "quiet on the set!" ringing in our ears

__strikes the fear that we all know

Traveling across the sea of faces

That all look blank

__with no expression

The time it takes to pull the meat

__out of the freezer

And thee honest temptations

__to let the dust bunnies wiggle

Just about spills blood

__on all of our hands

I didn't just forget what I wrote

I forgot I wrote it

When I see myself lose all I tried

__to keep in my life

I shatter in my inability

__to face her again

But when I look at my reasons

It's more than enough to agree

That I can't be around that somebody

Understanding doesn't come too often

Maybe I'll step back

__and stick  a needle in my arm?

I think not!

Weebling and wobbling

Would not be worth

Going back on my word

I don't have another run in me

It's not even a question

But, still

I'm not alright

I find no one to hold onto

I've escaped every infatuation

__I had left

It's not just "over"

It's "not even began"

So where does the water leak?

Take a look above you!

There's nothing wet falling down!

But I get asked to repair

__a damage on a roof

____that's not there

And as I'm throwing up the pieces

__of my appetite

I know I'm just gonna have to fill

__my stomach again

Windows don't just shut

Doors close too

I wander away

__from the likes of being me

Only to end up lying in a puddle

__of wept tears

Shooting at beer cans

__that I didn't even drink

But just thought it be fun

__to pretend I shot some one

Only to believe I've done too much

To only bend the rules

To only eat the pie

To only sleep in a bed

Made of thoughts from a head

__that knew nothing of the sort

____of why I try to get a grip

______on feelings I beg to have

But turn out to only be ideas

That I could again be in love

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07-18-'14 #6

D. L. Cannon


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