The Poem You Asked About

A poem I once wrote for some boy who ended up being not so important

The other night in the

Fluorescence

Of the library

Our knees touched

 

And you drank lemon iced-tea

And I wore my glasses

 

And you teased me per usual

Asking

If you had a

Poem.

 

When I said no

It wasn’t a lie

But if you ever ask again

It wouldn’t be

The truth

 

I do not know

Why I am interested in you.

When you asked me

I said it was

Because you do an

Awesome

Shaggy impression

 

And I like

How you play

The harmonica.

 

I forgot to add

That I like how your eyes

Always look sleepy

 

But I’d never

Say that to your face.

 

Because I don’t really want to be

Interested in you.

 

In fact

Part of me wishes

You were just some drunk teenager

Or even better

A pothead

Who only had one thing on his mind.

 

Because then it would have been easy

To split that bottle of wine

And let you rough me up

And walk away the next

Morning

 

But instead you

Ended up

Making me laugh

 

And whistled with ease

 

And our conversation felt

So easy

 

So when you first kissed me

On that bench at 3 AM

I got that cliché feeling

Which I don’t usually get

Because I know

Most men are a*s holes

 

But for some reason I thought

You might be something

Else

 

And when I was lying next to you

I felt a

Physical attraction

 

I felt myself being

Pulled at the seams

 

I felt that same

Want

I had experienced

Many times

 

But I valued your charisma

 

And I

Admired your character

 

And I had known the sting of

Unfulfilled expectations

That proceeded

The other quick

Lovers

I had encountered

 

And so I

Held back

 

Because thirteen partners

Taught me

Well

 

Because I

Learned that lesson

The hard way

 

So I regret blurting those words

The second time

We met

 

When I lay next to you

Again

Eyes clouded by

Booze and bong

Smoke

 

My ‘ID’ got a hold of me

That wanting sensation

Lacing its fingers tightly

Across my super ego’s

Mouth

 

Letting only my body do

The talking

 

But I am no w***e

And I don’t need to

Convince you of that

 

Because if you cannot see

The other

Qualities I posses

Whether they be

Comical or

Deep or

Charming

 

You do not deserve this

 

These pieces that make me whole

The leftovers

The originals

 

Some warm and

Some tinted with

Regret

 

But none I haven’t

Learned from

 

These 18 years have

Crafted a masterpiece

(Yes, me.)

 

And although I

Wish you could

Get that

 

I’ll survive

If you don’t.

 

Reviews

[Shmoke-Sifted Heftlande..]

the best advice I can give
almost never write about a romantic relationship
it's a poetry killer, in my opinion
if you get stuck in that rut
you poems become death by specialization
I've been at this for many years
I've watched people limit themselves
needlessly
I could pull some flattery out of my a*s,
but if you genuinely love poetry, open the emotional spectrum
who knows if you'll like what you see
but isn't that why it's exciting?

[kookoobananas]

I really appreciate that honest review! I do struggle in opening up to other things, I often find that I have a lot more trouble writing about things other than romance, but I definitely want to broaden my work!

[Shmoke-Sifted Heftlander]

it's about broadening yourself by going within; your work follows you into the rabbit hole; you have some nice moments in these three poems, it's just a pattern you may wanna nip in the bud...specialization can limit and eventually cause misery

[www]

The title drew me in. I really, really, really liked this. I imagined a story and two characters. Love, lust, doubt, confusion. I get it, I really do. I loved it.

[kookoobananas]

thank you so much! I love when other writers feel that they can relate to me through my writing! glad you enjoyed it!

[h d e rushin]

True blues happens when the devolution, the surrendering of power, becomes
archetypal to the eyes your looking into. If not, it can sound fawning or as if
your seeking favor by servile flattery. PULL A KNIFE OUT! BE THREATENING!
This is poetry and so few are watching.

I like this poem. It is rich in confrontation.John offered you some great advice.
I'm far too old and feeble to offer any.
dana